Jawa Hoo-Doo

Sia hovered in silence as the ship dropped from the sky as a beaconed harold parting the clouds for a revenant return, the wind and atmospheric pressure flapping against his Robes as yellowed lenses simply sat lost. Apothos' question had caught him off guard to say the least, a forethought he had yet to come up with an answer to. Where to indeed. Fulgermancy had been his culminating goal since his induction, the cosmic power of energy and life at his finger tips with crimsoned display. His focus had never looked past it, and in this, he found a concerning fault. His body twitched outwardly as his mind traversed the proceedings of his thoughts, not convulsive, but trembling. And yet, his form was warm, almost hot to the touch if one decided to check. "Dromund Kaas." Sia spoke amidst the suctioning breath as his rebreather filled his lungs. "I must venture there and see the world's energies." The location may have seemed sporadic, as if pulled from the air upon high. But there was methods to his madness. Having cleared his mind of the homing focus he had set upon learning the abilities of Fulgermancy, he couldn't help but feel its pull upon his darkened soul, a call of hunger and despair. It peaked his interest.

Sia grimaced beneath his hooded robes and fringed cloth wrappings, the Niemoidian's words stinging like the venomous spit of opposition, as his head shifted to the side in shame. It was true. He held no way off this world, not anymore at least. The trip from Lehon, as one would put it, had strained his ship to the breaking point, and he had spent the time since searching this planet for what he sought. And parts weren't readily available here like it was on Lehon and Tatooine. Shifting his face back to Apothos, he sighed and shook his hooded head. Twice now he would be reliant upon another, and it's pain delved deeper than the lightning ever could. "You've found me at a disadvantage I'm afraid." His words were reluctant and filled with a venomous undertone. "So much was sacrificed for the power I've received, this knowledge of the stars. I am stranded, wounded, and relatively unarmed." Sia allowed his words to linger as he hung upon the air of Zoist, his form in better shape than when the Niemoidian first found him, and yet, not completely out of the sands yet. His lightsaber sat fried upon his hip, so he only held the Force to defend himself, and his new understanding of it. As much as it broke his prideful nature, shambled him in humility, he held no other choice but rely upon the Niemoidian. And in essence, he felt this was what Apothos pondered to offer. With another sigh escaping his lips, he finished. "I don't suppose you do?" His voice came out more like a groan than a question, his reluctance more prevalent. "One that I could catch a ride within."

Sia's mind warped between reality and nightmares as he felt Apothos' will fall over his form, his visions of the energies intertwined with the visions of dreams and past events as nothingness threatened to take him. It was the pain of his flesh and bone that sustained him, the will of a being upon the precipice of death that brought out the primordial desire to live, and upon his hindered breaths, the essence of a bewildered sapient upon his face as he struggled to breath. And yet, within him, he felt the recourse of Apothos' magic, as wires were reconnected, burnt tubes became whole, and the rebreather's apparatus began to function as his heartbeat and vitals brought it back to life. The glowing yellow lenses beneath his cloak flickered as the strengthened sound of his breath returned, no longer a rattle within his chest, but reminiscent of an iron lung. Humbled, Sia gave an approving nod as he remained bobbing before Apothos, two sorcerers of the Sith standing in near silence upon Zoist's frozen tundra. Breaking the silence, Sia spoke. "You have my thanks. I would offer a reward..." Sia motions across his broken form and the area upon which they lingered. "But I'm afraid that I have nothing to offer."

Sia's mind verge upon the precipice of unconsciousness as he hung there in the air at eye's level, moments of consciousness lost to the cobblestone of time as his mind faded in and out. Only Apothos' words and presence would bring him back as his glowing lens flickered awake. Like a bobble on a fishing line, he hovered. "Not much of a choice, I have." Sia spoke incoherently, his tone weak and raspy as he struggled to breath. "Do what you will, but I will reject any attempts of discourse." With that said, Sia slowly dropped his guard as he allowed Apothos' in. Silently and closely he watched, the energies swirling around and through them as his pain became barely bearable. His bones etched and fractured by the intense lightning, his flesh scorched and tattooed by its immense power. This is what sustained him where mere mortals would fade. And yet, he remained cautious, not only in nature but in mind as well. Sith rarely helped another, and investments carried numerous debts. But for Sia, there was little option. Power had came at a cost, and as fractured as he was, power was the only thing keeping him from death's door.

For what seemed like eternity were passing moments as he laid within the warmed mud left by the energy that pierced his soul and mind, leaving behind a disabled and limp form. But Sia's consciousness, it remained vibrantly aware and energetic, taking in all that was presented to his gaze. To see the Galaxy in a whole new light, alive and bustling, and in one portion of himself, it sickened him. But my oh my, the energy, the pathways, the possibilities of corruption and potential to disease, it was boundless and infinite. His blinded gaze shifted as the words echoed around him, the energy within him glimmering behind the cracked lenses that once shielded his melted eyes. A soft lingering breath left his form as he took in another, his rebreather both fused and hindered to his lungs as he looked upon the energies of Apothos, energies that would have blinded him had he still held eyes. Like a spector, he grasped at the energies that flowed around his form and climbed an invisible ladder until he stood upright despite his lost limbs and his gaze was closer to eye level as the two blind beings met. "Neimoidian..." He spoke, his voice otherworldly and distant despite the two being mere feet from one another. His form remained limp, almost deathly, as he stared through the Cosmos upon this being before him. "I am Darth Sia. No more, no less. And you carry the Darkness upon you well." In the way he spoke, there was a subtle hint of hesitation, an almost praisingly aura of distrust in how he formed his words. And it would come across as so, his fascination with the energies that filled the alien's form to the point that he almost despised the creature. And yet, respected his potential and degree of power. As he lingered there above the ground, his robes flowing upon the freezing breeze as it's energy swirled around them, he gave an unwelcomed bow. But such was Sia's nature. He distasted and loathed other beings at face value on one hand, but tolerated them out of necessity and socially needs within the other. And for those like the Niemoidian before him, he respected them vaguely for their contributions and knowledge. And in his weakened state, he needed more help than what he wished to reveal. Even as he struggled to stay upright, his form swayed against both the air of Zoist as well as his consciousness as it threatened to fade again. He needed medical attention, and a new rebreather to replace the one that was fused upon his lungs, at the very least.

To percieve the flow of the Cosmos was almost maddening for a being who had only seen darkness and found brightness to be harmful. And yet, in a Miralukian sense, the brightness that born itself in the darkness brought new sight to be questioned and understood. His burn form now laying upon the stained snow, flesh blistered and scorched the only anguish of life felt in the moment, Sia grew weak and tired from his few meters of crawling and pulling himself toward salvation. Rolling over onto his back, the hiss of his augmented rebreather spoke of his struggle deeply, his fleshed lungs scarred to the bone just as the rest of his form. Even as he gazed upon the energies in the sky above him, he coughed and strangled on his own fluids, a mixture of mucus and blood threatening to drown him. And yet, he smiled beneath the cloth and bone that hid his form, for power attained was power to be used without consequence nor limits. For if knowledge was power, and Power was strength, then what he held in his scorched hand was a newfound strength to be bolstered and nurtured. With a bend of his thumb, he pressed the Holocron's activation symbol, his blinded gaze littered with the contents across the wind as it's energies fused with what he saw. And understanding was birthed... This holocron was forged from darkness and chaos, birthed to grant its contents to those willing to seek its knowledge. It required sacrifice and logic, faith and science, to truly understand the culmination of the Force and Energies, how the two intertwined and were symbiotic upon each other despite being two separations. And with this understanding came forth the knowledge born from understanding its separate and yet symbiotic flow with the natural and unnatural alike, a creation of the Darkside meant to coexist with the natural order of life. Fulgermancy was a natural order to the Chaos, a natural light amidst the darkness with the cruelest of intent and discerning. It was to know the enemy not only through a shared understanding, but to know their greatest strengths and weaknesses through the energy of thought and synapses. It was to know the mind of the enemy as much as one's own and to understand the electrical impulses both foreign and domestic within one's self as much as the others. And yet, it could be so much more, to understand the synapses and impulses of everything that makes up the Galaxy. And it's intent was to use this to its advantage. Metallurgy that could be enhanced to focus one's own proficiency, Machinations that could be created to exercise upon the weaknesses of others. And the energies to provide such understandings. It was all there for his mind to gaze through hollowed eyes. And yet, as he laid there gazing upon the brightened energies spelling out the information he took in, it held one last gift to grant as the energies collected by the lightning of Zoist's gluttonous storm pierced his mask and bore its contents into his brain before the Holocron returned to its dormant state. When he awoke to the energy latent darkness of his blindness, melted snow soaked his form and nerve endings twitched uncontrollably as he rolled back over and began to drag himself once again. Even as pained continously coursed his form, he fought to survive and relish what he had long sought and the power it granted beyond expectations. There was so much to do. So much to create. Damn his feeble form. (Fulgermancy Post 3 - Your post @Krath Apothos)

The heat of the electricity threatened to fuse flesh with cloth as the discharge of static threatened to topple his small stature against the melted snow. Yet, in the palm of his hand, the Holocron he held lit with its crimson core charged and matter became of the mind. Darkness of self clashed with darkness of nature and chaos, and beneath the crystals that shielded his eyes, the truth of Fulgermancy was revealed, the contents of the Holocron splattered across his gaze. Beneath the lenses that covered his eyes, they melted away like butter against the intense heat as it coursed across his form, leaving streaks of burnt flesh and fused cloth. The metallurgy that fused with his form heated red and became like plasteel as it dripped upon the revealed ground of Zoist beneath his feet. And yet this pain, in its glory, was power to claim and bind to his will, even as the pathways of energy marked his form eternally, a semblance of scorched tattoos beneath his robes. From the hand that held the enlightened Holocron, it coursed his veins and muscles as it ran down his arm, flowing fiercely across his veiled chest toward his heart, and from his heart, it split across his torso and stomach toward his limbs where it sought to escape. But Sia held no intent to let it escape just yet, his mind reacting to its course with determination and curiosity to understand why this potential power was limited amongst the Sith. And as his mind raced along side the fierce power, his mind, heart, throat, gut, and loins became focal points that expanded his own potential before finally he released the energy as he outstretched his other hand and let the crimson bolt escape his grasp. His form fell upon the scorched earth that had became this point of Zoist is his beaconing, and for a brief moment, his body could not retain his soul. With pained breaths, he could feel his heart slow to a near crawl until for a brief second, it stopped all together. As his soul yearned for release, he could feel these pathways within him begin to receed and close one by one, until the pathway within his chest began to fade and his consciousness sought to die. His last thoughts were immediately of failure. But in failure, there is the chance of success. And in his brief momentarily respite of retaliation, Sia refused to let this be his end. Just as his soul felt the final peeling of flesh and the pathway of his heart seemingly closed, a fire ignited within his spirit and as quickly as he sought to die, he fought to live. If the Force brought forth life, then so could the energy he felt course through his form moments before, and in a last ditch effort, beckoned the storm's call once again. In what would be his final breath, the vergence of life and chaos, Sia ripped the Force to his will and brought forth another bolt to his call. As the static around him charged and the molecular energy around him became feverish, he felt the power once more and felt it direct as the energy coursed his form in revival. Arching the pathways it had first forged, it delved deeper into his flesh and into bone as it returned the life it sought to steal, an equivalent of exchange for the knowledge he sought. And as it receded back to the heavens in its contention, breath returned to his lungs as his heart beat once again. And yet, now came the true testament of his resolve, as he laid there burnt and broken, the crimson Holocron glowing with anticipation to release its full knowledge held by blackened hand. Here he laid amidst a puddle of melted snow, wounded and broken as fused metal melted away and his rebreather half functional, his will his only substance. Reaching his hand out, he grasped at frozen snow and permafrost beneath as he began to pull himself against the ground. And what eyes he used to see goo beneath the very mask that hid his form. Yet, as vividly as he once saw, he saw things ever more brightly. He could see energy in its purest form, not only in himself, but upon the ground and in the air like strokes of a paint brush upon a lingering canvas. And in his mind, he could procieve the flow of the cosmos with hardly a thought. (Fulgermancy Post 2)

Standing upon the precipice of a cliff overlooking the vastly frozen world of Zoist, the harrowing of wind and lost souls brushing across his small stature, yellow eyes glared across the landscape and to the air in which an eternal storm brewed malovently. Three years of research, three years of remaining in the shadows of the old ones, had led him to this crescendo of time. He had finally found the key to his future, the power to unlock the door to creation and life. A world reborn from gluttonous destruction of death, hanging upon the charged air with a soft whisper. The Hutt had done well. His small stature descended from his perch and he came to the valley's floor with fulfillment and purpose. For what began on Lehon would certainly end here upon Zoist. A Sith Lord with no direction would raise up his destiny and meet fate upon the Dejaak Board with joy. He could feel the power of this world, the remnants of the Hutt whom brought forth eternal hunger, and he basked in it's feat. Sith had always been destructive, and for the Hutt's creation, was born of heresy and will, something all others should aspire to. Madness, yet, Mastery. It was true inspiration. But Sia shouldn't be so callous as to easily lose himself in the feats of others, nor concern himself with the Sith that had not so long ago gathered here. For his purpose here held little to do with them, only what each brought with them. Power, immeasurable amounts, looming across it's veiled surface. It radiated and permeated with the Darkness of its core, it's wound tore asunder like the maw of the Hutt's infamous madness. And above him upon it's horizon, it gathered collectively, brewing and boiling into a concoction of madness so concentrated that it's power rolled across it's form. It was a perfect Nexus, a nexus of Madness and Gluttony, a nexus of @Sheog the Mad. Crimson colored lightning arched across it's blackened collection, the presence of static coursing the air and charging its intensity, as the howls of the afterlife beckoned all to hear its call. Snow covered his boots and grieves as he trekked against the storm, the echo of each breath he took reverberated silently as it was swept away from his rebreather and the darkened steel threatened to freeze his stumps solid. But he did not relent, for this was a temporary state. His goal, his purpose, was in his grasp, and nothing could stop him from binding it to his whim. With each step, the crimson lightning illuminated to world in a blood saturated hue as the explosions of thunder erupted and clashed above all else in announcement and warning. Death was it's greeting and flame it's goodbye. A stumbled hand reached out toward the heavens in offering, a locked and powerless Holocron present in its palm. Fulgermancy was natural chaos personified, empowered by the imbalance of freedom and will, and delivered by madness. This was it's key. A Darker than Dark realm of infinite power born from an unholy trinity of life, death, and creation. And in its focal point, a culmination of it's existence, would be the wounded nexus that wrought it's decree. Sheog had created the perfect storm with his sacrifice. In a daring call into the Force, binding it's will to his own, Sia beckoned it's answer. With a blinding flash of crimson streaking from the heavens, it did. (Fulgermancy Post 1)

Kol Huro System Astro Graphical Information Region: Outer Rim Territories Sector: Kanz Sector Grid Coordinates: N-4 Points of Interest: Kol Huro VII Societal Information Atmosphere: Acidic and Poisonous Indigenous Species: Droids Immigrated Species: Galactic Wide Primary Language(s): Binary, Galactic Basic Faction Affiliation: Independent JediRP Canon History Once a striving industrial system under Mustag Olus and the Order of Sith Lords, it fell into disarray in the century following the Galactic Empire and became an autonomy as a forgotten system. Scavengers make up most of the Immigrated Species that remained within the system, spanning across multiple species with some droids remaining active to continue the collection of ore and production and minimal upkeep. Kol Huro I - VI remain collective worlds for harvesting with a vast collection of factories being the productive heart upon Kol Huro VII.

Identity Real Name: Ra'Fell St. Dooine A.K.A: Darth Sia Homeworld: Tatooine Species: Jawa (Originally Kumumgah) Physical Description Age: Unknown Height: 3'2" Weight: 65lbs Hair: Black Eyes: Yellow Sex: Male Distinctive Features/Scars: Augmented Rebreather, Prosthetic Left Arm and Right Leg Personality/Traits: Obsessive, Paranoid, Observant. Ra'fell is rather silent for your typical Jawa, save for when he finds interest in something. Has a tendency to find sentients lackluster. Doesn't trust easy, if at all. Equipment Clothing or Armor: Modified Robes (Layered with Krayt Dragon Scales), Weapon: Shoto Lightsaber (Blood Orange Corusca Crystal) Common Inventory: Holocron containing texts of Fulgermancy (yet to be unlocked) Faction Information Force User Alignment: Unlawful Chaotic Current Faction Affiliation: Sith Current Faction Rank: Lord History Force Side: Dark Trained by: Corpus Ju'krell Trained who: N/A Known Skills: As a Sith Lord advancing into Fulgermancy, Ra'fell has a deep Knowledge of the Core Force Powers concerning Control, Alter, and Sense. Having undergone The Delving, Ra'fell has learnt to Percieve the Flow of the Cosmos, allowing him to create items such as Marks of Annihilation, the Cartographer's Cane, and Sith War Amulets, and has found the World unworthy to Feel his Tread. He is also proficient in Form IV: Ataru, but rarely wields a Lightsaber. Pre-Faction Background: The story goes that one night while wandering the Dune Sea, Ra'fell witnessed a vision of a battle between the ancient Masters that once ruled Tatooine and it's original inhabitants, the Kumumgah. Lost in a moment of panic, Ra'fell was overcome by one of the darker Kumumgah in their fight against their oppressors and woke near a recently slain Krayt Dragon. Unsure of what truly happened, he wandered back to his Clan's Sandcrawler. The following days would be a blur of half harvested memories and rage filled emotions until he and the Kumumgah were of one mind as the stood over the slain bodies of his Clan. Leaving Tatooine behind at the behest of who he had became, he sought of the Darkside that had oppressed the Kumumgah within and inevitably found his place amongst the Sith. Faction Background: Training at the Sith Academy under Darth Khrayus, a member of the Lannik species named Corpus Ju'krell, it was during this time that he discovered his lust for Fulgermancy and began to augment his form. After losing an arm during a duel in Lord Exodus' March on Coruscant after the Mandalorian Crusade, Ra'fell used his skills with technology to begin weeding out his weaknesses, including his right leg which had always been shorter than the other and eventually binding a rebreather to his form after being space walked by another Apprentice. It was until his final trial, during the campaign of Lehon, that Ra'fell truly learnt of Fulgermancy and the powers he could possess. It was on Lehon that he passed his final trial and began his search for information on Fulgermancy. As he returns to the Sith, he finds a different Galaxy in their defeat.