Morpheus

((Back, finally. Had to buy a $50 firewall...*groan*)) Morph simply pulled a remote from his pocket, one that was specialliy made for his ship. It sent out a comm signal, summoning his ship to him, which it should arrive in an hour or so. "Master, all I own is the things I carry, and the things in my ship, which will be here shortly." It was strange, calling another master, as he had never done so before in his life. To be honest, he revered the man, respected him because of his power. He probably not do this for any other man, save John because he saw the potential in Morph, and the other masters out of fear of death. Morph kept outside the door, but just barely, keeping his eye on his master. He gave him his respected space, but he also wanted to be near him, in case he was needed shortly. -------------later----------- Morph's ship landed, with difficulty, at the main landing site, locking it's doors up tightly. Not even a bypass could open it, only a specially modified commcode from his remote. ((I put this in here now, only because I did not wish to remember it later. I probably won't use it right now, so assume this is a while later.))

((My bad, our computer got hit bad with a virus, which is why I'm using my neighbor's. could be up later today, could be as late as wednesday. We'll see. Anyway, I'm on a piece of crap laptop, so pardon the grammatical errors.)) Morph listened to DH's words, locking them away in his memory so that he would never forget. Cover DH's back, do what he does...sounded easy enough. As he followed him, he thought about the phrase "equip you". Did that mean he would be getting a lightsaber soon? He sure hoped so, as he knew these were some of the best weapons ever made. ((And I have two swords strapped to my back, fyi, a Sith and a normal. Both suck.)) He only followed and observed, never speaking in the presence of his Master before being spoken to first, basic diplomacy. Finally, he would get to kill something, finally he had a master to guide him down his dark journey, finally...he would get his revenge on his family. Wearing a smug grin, he smartly walked behind his master on a left flank, wondering what was to come.

Morph noted the separation between the two entities, these powerful Masters in the Mist ((I had to add that)). He approached silently, not wanting to disturb any thoughts. He stopped short as he could just see DH's form in silent thought. He waited, not wanting to be overzealous in his quest for a master, playing a little hard to get. He had to act superior in order to get the superior choice, that was simple politics taught to him by his father. If you act confident, and you look like you know what you're doing, the general populace doesn't care, and won't notice you. The lesson faded from his conscious memory, only to be replaced by DH looking directly at him, his eyes piercing his soul. ((edited in, DH got a chance to post before me. Sneaky, sneaky!!)) "I am ready, Master Heretic, I believe I have been ready before the others, and I am ready to go through the hell that is Sith training. There is one question that I wish to ask beforehand, though, what kind of powers will I learn from you? I know little of the force, other that I can sort of see with it, and levitate with it. The Sith again I know little about, about their history, but right now that matters little to me. I want power, as I am sure every person here wants, and I am not afraid to say it. I do, however, think you will be slightly impressed with my skill with the sword. I have been trained by the best, and I believe my skill is superior as it can go. Unless you Sith have somehow found a way to modify that as well..." He ended, thinking he said all that needed saying.

((Jeez, people! I'm off only one night, and I have force messages flowing in and out of my head!!!...lol)) Morph was still leaning against the wall. He had heard what John had said, especially the part about the Sith sword. What he meant was that it could not cut through duracrete, or metal, or anything else like that. It was made for bloodshed, but a lightsaber was that much more powerful. the swings, the blocks... Morph was almost sure he was ready for one. He had no knowledge of them, save what he had read in books. But they looked powerful and intimidating, exactly what he was. He looked over to where DH and Raynuk had left. Yes, it was time, he needed a Master to guide him in the aincent arts of the Sith powers. A Master would help him in the war, he could stay close, killing those he could, and his Master killing those he couldn't. He knew the finesse and subtle nuances of swordplay, but the force was a whole new thing to him, like a child playing with a new toy. He would need someone strong to guide him, and his "relative grandparent" in his mind would help him no further. He knew he had the power to banish him all along, and he heard a silent scream of agony as he did so. From now on, it was him, and him alone. He didn't need someone else in his mind to baby him, to get him out of stuff he had squarely stepped his foot in. No, now he was on his own, taking his first steps down the dark side. And wasn't it beautiful, like blood spurting from a freshly hewn neck. Morph stood up fully, stretching, and followed the two Masters down the hallway which they went, far enough away to not catch any stray conversation, but close enough to follow them. He had questions for Darth Heretic, questions that needed to be answered. However, he also respected their privacy, and kept his eyes half closed keeping tabs on their relative auras, making sure he didn't get too close if they stopped. He was sure one or both of them would sense his presence, and would attend to him at their leisure.

So the Sith were going to war. Well, as long as he got a lightsaber, he'd be okay. Sith swords didn't do much beyond cutting flesh, but a lightsaber... He could almost feel a cylindrical object in his hands...The matter at hand returned to his attention, his every neuron focusing on the speakers and his own Master's emotions. John was very kind to take in four hopefuls, one of which had not shown...odd...anyway, not many Sith had trained multiple Hopefuls by themselves, and John was just the one to do it. But Kase seemed to belong to him, and John to Kase. Their pasts belonged together, as well as their future. Morph wasn't about to disrupt that. Besides, there were bigger and better masters to have, especially the padawanless Darth Heretic, who sat near to John, at an easy viewpoint. He caught the name in the banter of the Masters, when they were babbling back and forth about what they owned, or something like that. That part didn't really apply to him, and he ignored it somewhat. If anyone, he looked like a good master for him, strong, and with good leadership skills. He could make Morph powerful in the force...

((I think Kivuli "dropped out". Shame...He could had so much potential...)) Morph smirked at the compliment from his tutelage Master. He knew he was better than the others physically, and he was probably second best to Kase as far as the force aspect went. But there was time to work on it...yes, lots of time indeed. To become powerful, to kill, to maime, to torture. It was all coming together. He shot a glance to Darth Heretic, the only Master he hadn't heard of yet, curious to know who the man was. He looked powerful, yes, and cunning. He might not be the most tactful out of the group, but he made up for that with experience, it looked like. He looked down at the floor, studiying the tile pattern. He concentrated on the air, and the flowing particles in it, making invisible hands stir it. The result was a mini-twister, a true dust devil. Amusing... He quickly lost interest, dropping his hold, and focused on the matter at hand.

Morph followed Kase, shooting him a look, and rested his back on the wall shortly behind the both of them. He knew this was a time to be silent, lest he be killed (Or worse) foully. Looking over the mass gathering of the Sith masters, he fingered the rock in his pocket, making it shine in the force, trying to catch the gaze of a potential master.

Morpheus suddenly fell to the floor in pain. YOU FOOL!!!!! How could you let him do that? If you are to become the best, you must act like it. To the others, Morph convulsed as if he was being electrocuted again, for about three whole minutes. Why do I need to clean up after your mistakes? Maybe I should just leave you to the wolves, and choose another. Put your hand on your rear satchel. You feel that? YOU WILL FEEL THAT!!! Morph grimaced, still convulsing, his arm compelled itself to feel there. A bottle? A bottle of what? BE SILENT! Your thoughts are meaningless, your mind hopeless. I shall punish you later for this. For now, The figure pointed towards the bottle in Morph's mind. Let it be gone! The one that put it there shall suffer later. WONT HE?!??! Morph didn't convulse this time, but it was obvious he was in extreme pain. His head throbbed, his wole body pulsed with a piercing pain that seemed to penetrate his soul. But just as soon as it started, Morph found himself on his knees, panting, sweating like never before. He slowly reached back and felt his satchel, not letting anyone notice. Nothing was in it, at least not anymore. There was someone out there, probably one of the three other students, that wanted him out of the competition. Figured, as he was the best suited for master out of the four. ----------------------------------------- Back in John's room, a red wine bottle phased back into existence from the plane to which it was transported, into the place it formerly was. If someone were to even examine it forensically, they couldn't trace it back to Morph or the person who pulled a prank on him. It was untraceable, even through the force.

Morph threw on is robe as soon as he could, and without waiting for the others, he grabbed his weapons that had been given to them when they were locked here, and ran out the door. Half-jogging, as he didn't want to be late. He tried to listen to what the people in the other rooms were doing; yeah right, as if John had gone somewhere nearby. He felt a feeling of anger as John left, almost one that was not his own. That had to be what John was talking about, sensing auras. Great, another test...He remembered the cell, how he had seen through the walls, how it had come to him naturally. But the wall was surging with Sith power, and Morph didn't have any of that here. He shook his head, wondering what to do next, almost panicked. Until he heard the voices, whispers beckoning to him, wanting him, seeming lunging for him...He closed his eyes, just listening... As he did, his feet began to move, not by his will, but by someone else's. Your power is strong, young one, you are a great asset to the Sith. Your bloodline has run for thousands of years with the powerful strain of the force. I will use you in due time, young one, but for now, I want you to be aware the light side. It is dangerous for many Jedi and Sith alike, people who can taste both sides of the force even. Many have gone insane that way, curiously testing that which they do not understand. You don't seem to be one of those, though, you may be able to finally do it, like Freedon Nadd, so long ago. Remember, you are a Sith, and will always be one, although you are a pathetic one at the moment. He got a vision of the wrinkled old man, who seemed to look somehow familiar to him. His face was hidden in half of a Sith hooded robe, and his nose was rather bulbous. He had a powerful aura of hate around him, like as if the whole galaxy had hated him, and he had matched and overpowered it. I have chosen you for the future, to rule where I should be now. I choose you to retake my throne, and rule in my stead. But first, you must become a Sith master, yesss, that is the key. Once you have experience enough, I will contact you again. I will help train you, help forge you into the weapon you are, help make your blood run with rage as you use the force to smite your enemy....But first you must learn. It was here that the man raised his hand up, seeminly harmless, but- FRRRRRZAAAAKKKK!!! Lightning jabbed out at the young man, sending him sprawling in his own mind. The pain caused him to wake up, his eyes snapping open faster than a blaster bolt. He was in front of a doorway to some boiler room or somewhat, a furnace over in the corner, and a cowled figure standing nearby. A faint aura of anger hung in the air...He dared speak in the powerful presence. "Master? I am here...What dost thou bidst me do?" He spoke with an aincent dialect, one he did not know he knew. Strange things were happening, strange indeed. It was a good thing he still knew how to fight with his sword...

Morpheus looks up rather meekly, finding the eyes of someone familiar. Well, at least Kase had a master now. That was a good thing. He was already humbled a little since his stay here, punished once after another for doing seemingly nothing. He hesitated a reply, and lightly spoke, so as not to interrupt John. "Umm, hello? It sure is nice to see another familiar face around here since they locked us up..." He kept his reply short and quick, not wanting to displease anyone. Yet.

((Greeeeeeeat. Trapped again. SOMEONE RESCUE MEEEEEEEE...*sigh*)) Morph stands now in the middle of John's quarters, waiting, not touching ANYTHING, and keeping perfectly still. He would probably be punished for this, but that came with the job. He waited...

Morph quickly followed Kivuli and Tarrian out of the prison level. ((Sorry for the crappy post, a better one will be when I get there.))

((I was asleep, remember? But I'll do my best to stay with the storyline.)) Morpheus awoke from a fitful sleep to find that a figure dissipating before his eyes. The same figure that had appeared to him in his dreams too. The one Kivuli was just talking to. "Hey! He was in my dream! Who was that? What did he say?" Kivuli was just about to answer as the cell door swung slightly inward, opening just a crack. Both students were silenced, knowing that each had seen the man, and heard his offer. Both looked at each other, and back to the door, each waiting for the other to make a move. Honestly, Morph was scared. He was known to do this kind of shit, but this was at the Sith homeworld, and he did NOT want to get blasted again. But if Kivuli went....Well, he'd think about that if Kivuli actually went. They sat there, perpetuating the silence.

((It's ok, I just talked to johnskywalker about the system, and I understand I'm gonna be in here awhile. I'm prepared to do the best RP I can, provided the current conditions. A lot of thought, not a lot of action. Remember, though, that usually thinking a lot about the force turns them to the light side. I won't, but I sense some of the hopefuls will...If they can't be a force user one way, they will get it another. I intend to be a sith, I just don't want to fight a whole bunch of midget-Jedi that are half trained in the force. It's just not right ....)) Morpheus wakes up from a nightmare briefly, only to go back to sleep again, returning to the unrestful sleep.

It came again, the dark red line over his inner eye. He touched the wall again, anxious, wanting to know what this was. It felt good, it felt...natural. However, it didn't happen again. Morpheus developed a scowl on his face. He clenched his hand, hitting the wall lightly, mad at it, angry that it wouldn't let him know what it was. And as his hand hit it, he was frozen to it, the dark energy flowing through his veins, his eyes seeing things that couldn't be possible. He saw through the rock. Impossible...was this the force? He just sat there full of rage at the wall, staring, the anger seeming to feed itself somehow. He was in a prison of some sorts, a torture level you could call it, but mostly just a holding area. He looked down. Yeah, that was the torture area. But then he thought of Kivuli, who had started to snore. He pulled his hand away from the wall, ruining the image somewhat. it was stull there as long as his eyes were closed, but faded in a matter of seconds. It was like the wall was infused with the dark side of the force. He sat up from his lying position, and studied his cellmate. It was clear that the man would be out until morning, he was now snoring so hard. Morph looked around the cell, wondering if John would ever remember them. He rolled over, concentrating on what time he would get up in the morning, and went to sleep.

Morpheus studies the cell walls, looking for any weakness, any hope of escape. If they did escape, however, they were going to run headlong into about five or so angry Sith, who would rip their spleen out, and use it as a partial bowl as they drank their blood, to put it lightly if you will. He tried to think of something to pass the time. The other was sitting in the corner, contemplating what he would do when he got out. Morpheus pondered this. The only reason one was put in solitary confinement (Not exactly in their case, which is why his mind drifted over it) Was to think about what they had done. Parents had used it for years to get the attention of their children, And countries had prisons for criminals. It seemed like that John was actually caring for them, allowing them time to think on what they had done to deserve it instead of just blasting it out of them. He looked over to Kivuli, who was minding his own business. "So, what drew you to the Sith?" It was a simple question, and right now, instead of pain and rage on his mind, Morpheus was actually quite curious about his surroundings. The thick durasteel walls gave a gentle thump as his head hit it, relaxing into a resting position. It was of no longer use to ponder why they were here, they had done only one thing wrong. ((John posted our actions of walking in here, and Ranyuk assumed I heard as well. If you count those, then three things.)) He relaxed more, stretching his legs, getting a feel for the cell. He wanted the force, wanted to use it, wanted to be a Sith, but his learning was being restricted because of this. Kivuli continued to mind his own business, ignoring the question. Just a good time as any to learn about the force. The tattoo on his shoulder was supposed to create a massive aura of hate when traced, naturally drawing any Sith, but that was a myth, or so he thought. He closed his eyes, running his hand along the wall, searching for a way out. He gasped, and shuddered quickly when he saw a shot of red line quickly run over his inner eyelid.

((I assume we are both in the same cell, weaponless.)) Morpheus glanced over to the wall where Kivuli had smashed his fist. Under his thick overcoat, Morpheus's muscles rippled, ready for whatever Kivuli might try to pull. The man was obviously an ex-con, or had been imprisoned, that much was apparent. But Morpheus was about twice his size when it came to body mass, so he was in the safe zone. This was odd treatment, even for the Sith. Why would they do this to him, especially when he had done nothing more than try to wander away. The hatred moved about him, like a liquid it flowed through the air. He longed for the day when he had the powers to exact his revenge upon the one called Master Raynuk, or at least he thought that was what he was called. The man was overly-arrogant, and needed a good a**-whoopin. As to Kivuli, what he had done was obvious, and Morpheus had followed, blind to the punishment. He continued to sit in the corner, just waiting for the inevitable moment, prepared. "Well maybe we shouldn't have been so quick to just have fun outside the Sith order. That was what got us here in the first place. If we want to get out of here, they want one of two things. One, we get out on good behavior; or two, the more likely one, we fight each other to the death and the other is released. I would really hate to kill you over something so simple as this, so you and I better calm down fast. It might take a little longer, but we can outlast their patience. It was the lesson they wished us to learn, since we were so quick to lose it on Tattooine." He just continued to sit, and wait, and eye Kivuli out of the corner of his eye.

Morpheus found himself held up against the wall, blasted for the second time today. It didn't feel good. It felt wonderful This blast wasn't as severe as the last, and Morph drank it in, marvelling at the pain, the very reminder that he was still alive. And soon, very soon, he would be able to cause that very same pain to others. And he would enjoy it. His goal was to become a Sith guard, the legendary half-dead warriors that were the bane of the Jedi. He had only heard of them once, long ago, but since then it was always in the back of his mind, nagging. It was now that he decided what he wanted to be: A Sith Guard. He would keep his eye out around the Sith base for any master that might be able to train him.

Morpheus's eyes opened as wide as they possibly could, despite the pain they caused. By now, it had faded down to a buzz, slightly more hurting than being rubbed hard with sandpaper. He stared at the Sith, full of wonder and amazement. How the h*** did he do that?!? Could my thoughts really give my opponent the edge in battle? Intriguing! Finally being released from the force grip, Morpheus sat down near Kase. Fortunately for the both of them, a slight breeze picked up, eliminating the smell. However, for some reson, the clean ionic smell stayed... Morpheus would have to keep his arrogant tendencies in check. They almost got him killed here, he could only imagine what would happen at the academy. But what John had just done, read Morpheus's mind, captured his attention more than anything. Morpheus had thought he had known the universe before, he was fairly smart, besides the fact that he actively participated in street fights whenever he could. This opened up a world of possibilities! The world could be at his fingertips! He remembered to contain his thoughts, and quickly put a can on his blossoming questions. There would be time for that later. In fact, now was a perfect time to practice it. He sat on the rock, eyes closed, just letting a general blank into his mind. It was relatively difficult, as he had never tried before, but he kept at it.

Morph held back the pain as best he could. A little every now and then was almost enjoyable to him, it reminded him he was still alive. But this.... He gritted his teeth, although it hurt, and spoke through his blistered lips as best he could. "Y-yes, Mast-ter." He didn't studder because he was afraid, no, that was quite the opposite, he was studdering because he had a nice electrical sore in the back of his throat. Although nobody could tell, because his eyes were crisped over almost closed, he was glaring at Simbera. He knew it wasn't his fault for what had happened to him, but it was his fault for keeping them here so Morph couldn't get to a bacta tank. Pain was life in the Sith, however, and he had to get used to it.

Hmm...sounds fun! "I'll be with him, don't worry, we can take care of ourselves...and others." He grinned evilly as John rolled his eyes and turned back to his apprentice. Morph ran off after Kivuli, catching him shortly.

"All I know about the force is that the Dark side wields more power faster. There is much to be said when a master of either side, but Jedi are weak when in training." Morph allowed himself to open up a little, to establish a common relationship between the two. It was good to have friends anywhere, and it was better to have supporters. "To tell the truth, I was an outcast from my own family. I somehow...messed up...a big peace talk with a warring planet. Kalzoth, I think it was. Anyway, it caused a war that my parents were planning to avert. Instead of public humiliation, they shunned me, erasing all records of my existence, including my real name. I have gone by Morpheus ever since, my life being an everchanging experience. It is the name of an aincent God of my race, the unseen god, whose physical presence is always changing, and often appears in dreams. Sometimes, when I look back, I feel like I am dreaming.... My parents were fools. One mistake everyone is allowed to make, nobody is perfect. I decided to join because of the pure power. Power to rule, power to lead, and power to intimidate. The force has run strong in my family, but nobody has ever rejected their high-up life to actually develop any skill with it. I came to prove them wrong, and after I become the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, I will go back to their world, and kill all who are on it, just for pleasure." Morph spotted a large beetle, and took pleasure in bringing his boot down upon it with a large crunch. "Yeah, that's how I got here. Nothing more to it really....All that stands in my way now are Sith who want to be top dog. You don't seem to be one of those. In fact, I kind of like you. Maybe sometime you could teach me a little of that Huttese, I have heard it is the most useful language in the galaxy besides basic." Morph looks down to the other's mouth, at the blood dripping from it, and remembered the blood spattered all over him. He must look like a mess. Just a normal day in the Sith life, he hoped. Anything more would be pleasant. He wanted to become the most brutal of all the Sith ranks, and intended to make it known to John shortly.

Morph looked over his shoulder. Pathetic. These Sith think they're all powerful or something. Fools, it dosent take a quantum physicist to see that power comes in numbers. But hose numbers had to be led. And Morpheus planned to be on top when that happened. "Iiajatsu. It's the code to my ship. It's on the desert outskirts, not far from here. He can use it if and when he wakes up. I was assuming I was traveling with you to our final resting place, right John? Ahh well, who cares. I'll hitch a ride with someone...." He looks them over. He expected them to be weak, pathetic fools. When he looked, though, he saw power in the eyes of each who looked back. And to think, these would be the ones he would lead in the future. There was one, however, that particularly caught his eye. An old Twi'leik, sunburned from the hot desert suns. A good ally as ever, he thought, as he went to go sit down next to him. "So, what brings you to the Sith? The power? The easy way to the force?" It wasn't hard to tell, he was an outcast like Morph was. Or at least he seemed one. How else would a Twi'leik spend a lot of time in a hot place?

Morpheus looked at the back of Simbera's head, eminating hate. John would make a good master for him, if he found no one stronger. He expected the best, and Morph intended to show the best, until Simbera was ousted, oruntil he was fully trained. Morpheus would become a full-trained Sith, no matter who was in his way. He knew how to play politics, his family came from royalty. He also knew how to use sheer power when needed, as he spent much of his time practicing with his sword, and working his muscles out. He was a body of sheer power. Nothing less he expected from himself, he was the best, and he wanted to prove it. The others would die if they got in the way, regardless if they were his friends. He could only trust himself. John noticed him, but was standing behind Morph, so he didn't pick up on it. He changed his mind to focus on the present, not what he would do in the future, as the apprentice walked off.

((Is this the thing from AOTC? Cause that's not what it's called. Ennh, whatever.)) Morph looked over his shoulder and smirked. "I have no patience. I know the Sith do not need it. I was just abiding by your wishes as to whose order to go in. You can kill me, I know this from in the bar, so I will follow you. I am a wild spirit, you may see this when we get to the academy, wherever it is." He grinned, drawing out his long vibrosword from its sheath. He ran, letting the pull of fresh blood guide him. Which one was ripe for the picking..... Screw it, go for the big one. There it was, a massive wraid, eyeing him, the Alpha Male of the pack. It charged him, picking up speed as it ran. Morpheus came to a stop, no longer wishing to waste energy as long as it was coming towards him. Wait for it, wait for it.... He jumped just in time to have the one charging from his right flank miss him. He somersaulted in midair, leg and arm muscles flexing, as he slashed down the back of the huge beast in a semi-straight line. The spinal cord was cut off right before the back legs, making them inoperable. The huge beast crumpled. The other let out a bellow, as it was his mate he killed. It started to charge again, it's rage building inside like a tied hose. And like anything tied off for too long, it would have to explode. He stood there, letting it run, watching for the slightest movement, looking it square in the eye, challenging it. Five feet in front of him, he threw himself to the left, coming up on a shoulder roll and nicking it in the rear left leg. The mate of the big Alpha Male hollered in pain as Morph landed on her back. "Ohh, does it hurt? I'm sorry....Not!" He shoved the sword right into the foot, up the big hoof. The most tender spot on a hoofed animal. It squealed, a suprising sound for such a large animal, but it did nonetheless. He drove harder, and it erupted into spasms, jolts of pain shooting up the leg into the brain. He smiled evilly, knowing full well what he was doing. And ducked right as the male leapt over him, intending to take his upper body off with his hoofs and body weight. He spoke as he ducked, "Nice try, but I heard you a mile off. Too bad you wont try again." He pulled the sword out and jabbed upwards, spewing the blood of the big male all over him as it cut through it like a hot knife through butter. God Damn, do these things STINK! Rage kept it going, anger fuled it's soul. Unfortunately that wasnt enough, as the entrails exploded all over the ground as soon as the male touched ground. Just like he thought it would. He walked back, dripping wet. "Will we get to do more of that when we get to the academy? It was kind of fun..."