Exodus

”œI'm quite sure I didn't request your opinion, but I appreciate those desperate words of wisdom, truly”¦”

The time for amusement was at an end, this man dared to tread on waters that he had never once seen before. He spoke in sheer assumption and belittled what was left of his own wit in front of these men before him. Exodus flooded the insistence to allow this dispute to reach elevated levels and watched as the beakers and sensitive objects around him cackled and cracked. It was at this moment that natural instincts would force itself onto his before now, distressed behavior and so he hid his emotion with a devious chuckle. ”œPlease. Don't make me kill you.”

This ambition, this dream was not his. There was never once in his life that he had desire and the whored crave for the title known as the Dark Lord of the Sith. It just wasn't who he was or what he wanted to be. The brotherhood had become too dissimilar to his own ethics and the traditional appreciation of what sourced his own power and his life thereafter; each of them starved for more, each of them talked as if their expertise could silence all in their path and in spite of that, there was none who could sprout evidence to what their mouths had told. The order had become weak and indecent to the influence of fear that was once had and Exodus couldn't care less about their values. ”œIf it is a tool that you desire for your personal gain, your first choice was an accurate one.”

Somewhere between the folds of discussion, there was an awkward conundrum that struck Exodus. There was request of a leader when it had been determined in advance that these men who stood here were of equal balance; the notion was comprehensible at the least because perhaps a sense of direction is what the clandestine faction needed rather than a leader per se. All attention fell onto man who had been christened as a member of the sacred triumvirate, the Sith Trinity, and that classification alone had now placed him in an inauspicious position. He cocked his head and his arms casually crossed. The black threadbare cloak that washed over him swept wide and undusted the bedrock floors. He stepped forward and the cloak split ways to expose a powerful chest covered in archaic armor. ”œUnder this condition.”

The World of Vjun was a creation that remained emblematic to those few who had served the Demon of Blight, the God of Rot; Sith Master Nurgle. It was rumored to proliferate and flourish the powers of those who had once tasted his power, the planet breathed the dark side and those that entered its damnable atmosphere was thrust into the friction of spirit and smothered with its power. These demons became unconquerable. At last, a destination was reached but it was not that of Byss. For a reason exclusive to Exodus, he had buried his tracks and deluded his true intentions. The blandishment of darkness seduced his exhausted soul and empowered him without exception; the planet crammed its amplitude into him and revived his intestinal fortitude. The complexion in his face deepened and soaked into a convalescent definition with his emerald irises at its colored climax. The rumors were exact. The ship landed near the castle in which he had first met his prospect and he could feel that of course, it was inhabited. The unlit assassins moved as instruction had reached their ear. Two masked men entered the room in which Julio bid his time, he hadn't a clue where he had been led to, nor what was paved for his future. The man was as clueless as he was when he had first delved for power. Despite whatever resistance, he couldn't see as perception had been stolen from him and so the men hauled and pulled the man off of the ship and into the presence of the unwearied Exodus. ”œBeneath this world, creatures that lack the pleasure of slumber await. Survive their craze and the senses that were stolen from you will be returned. Once you are finished, do not stray afar, I shall come for you.”

The transport crawled with biomechanical assassins drenched in over cloths that tiptoed in absolute conscientiousness and precision. The man that had been delivered to their burden had remained silent but even so, watchful reports detailed his excessive mental strain and sweat as if he'd been on pins and needles, but perhaps his terminal injuries were the reason. Exodus considered his interest in this new child of darkness, the potential he carried at his premature period in time. It reminded him of himself when he had crossed this forsaken path. It was remarkable how far he had come. In actual fact, it had been awhile since Exodus had swum in so much thought. Dark, unkempt hair sprawled across his pillow and treacherous spheres of poisoned emerald focused into the tall atmosphere, reaching as far as his visualization would allow. A hand crossed his bare stomach and scratched lightly before the door to his quarter's thundered open. That same hand shot out towards the source of the commotion and homed in on a man dressed in what some would distinguish as navigational attire. The man stood shocked, his mouth agape in an attempt to express regret but there were no words and he could not find them for the life of him. More often than not, his throat would crumple in the seconds to come, as a rule he would lie in a pool of his own disgust by now, but Exodus smiled and wiped a thin of his hair from his face instead. ”œThank”¦ you, Lord Exodus. It will not happen again.”

(OOC: Been busy but I didn't want to keep you waiting, so I threw together a quick post so we could get back into this with speed.) The scene was soon filled with a horde of men dressed in the darkest of robes, their appearances were clandestine and their intent impossible to differentiate as each movement that they made became one with the shadows that skimmed across the landscape. The six men of dark entered a line formation and bowed to no one in particular, it was an odd token action but all of that became clear when one of even more disturbing nature stepped out from the staid undergrowth and presented himself as a God before the people. He was distinctly at superior stature and physique than them all and held immensity from beneath those shady fleeces. He breathed aloud and the atmosphere seemed to chill over. However, the Wookies were a fearless and valiant race and would not be frightened at the mere sight of death; Exodus could at least respect that about the creatures and he to surprise, he did. Furthermore, the wooly creatures made pass and the men entered the outpost, retrieved their objective and headed towards their shuttle craft without further mention. Julio would be carried by the six men who had accompanied the Sith Master and their next destination would be discussed when he had awakened onboard.

A cold hand, both powerful and sudden, slithered onto the neck of the victim and clenched without mercy. The clasp was ruthless and stole the air from the suffered mortal, he would choke but the clutch was too flawless. Exodus watched as the veins swelled in the man's neckline and shifted to an awkward, duller shade. He watched and smiled before he would even dare to release the hold, and as he did he was quick to cover the man's mouth to silence his strive for air. ”œAh”¦ You are, even now, a mortal.”

It was the scent of blood that allured his interest, its stench was unmistakable. He hunted and carved his path from end to end within the wild tropical forest. His swiftness and remarkable pace struck as odd, it was as if he had traveled these lands before and was well aware of its sophistication. The wilderness and its feral creatures became silent whilst they hid in the corners of darkness; they could sense and even better feel the intoxicating darkness that oozed off of Exodus' wicked form, they craved for its poison to no end. The forest path came to an end and all motion ceased within that instant. He peeled his dark hood from his face and allowed both of his hands to wrench apart two thick branches that intertwined and obscured his vision into what seemed to be an equipped outpost. With a raucous crack, the perverted tree limbs parted and bestowed Exodus admission onto restricted land. It was a second no sooner that he could now hear approaching voices speak with worried emphasis; the native dialect of the Wookie without a doubt. They were out of sight but he could see them, he watched them with an instinctive sense of sound. He could feel the distance between each of their steps and how much closer it brought them towards him. His concentration strengthened and the world collapsed in on him with a mouthful of knowledge that would soon make him invisible to the curious bunch who hunted after that racket Exodus had made. Three Wookie soldiers spun the corner and aimed high conscientiously, their vibrant crossbows readied and a set of fuzzy fingers prepared to heave the trigger. There was no one in sight; no scent, no trace, no one. The Wookie scout that led the other two scratched his head in confusion and babbled with his exotic speech before the three made haste towards their nearby placement once more. Exodus smiled from above, his svelte leap allowed him to soar atop the militaristic compound and land with no sound to evidence his arrival. There he is. He had found what had etched his interest, and it was of course the man who lie crippled from inside of this broad bamboo boarded wall. Exodus spread his figure evenly across the top of the room; he had no means to enter from above without a loud and undeniable noise alerting those outside and even if he was to force the wood to bend to his will with sheer force the chances of a snap in its width was more than likely. It would seem he was out of options and would remain atop this accommodation just a breath away from what had called to him. Just then, Exodus' entire form flickered and transcended smoothly through the material at ghost pace. The rumors were exact, and this Phantom could not be stopped by this mortal realm. His entry was wraithlike and he floated to the floor beside the brutally beaten victim. He blended with the shadows cast by the darkness and the flames of the torches that lit the other rooms. He was there, but he was not; he vanished but he stood right next to the ear of this man and spoke with an evil sure to wake him. ”œMake a sound”¦ and I'll paint these walls with blood.”

The beat never ceased and the constant pulse remained ever so relentless. It pounded on his chest, beckoning to escape. The thunderous sound crawled up his throat and slithered into his skull with haste as his vessel sunk into the depths. An intoxication of adrenaline imprisoned itself into his spheres of emerald green that hunted the atmosphere with curious crave. His irises bled with sheer phosphorescence and pierced the night skies. Exodus; the deceptive weapon exhausted a brazen breath and landed in the outskirts of what was assumed to be civilization. The screen of the dark chariot lifted up and expelled the humid air that suppressed the Dark Assassin. He tossed aside his buckle and leapt from his seat with a movement that appeared to be questionable, as if he naturally just walked on winds. His boots descended and touched the landscape at last and his obsidian crafted robes pooled around his able physique. Exodus inhaled a deep, endless intake of the most foul of smells he had ever crossed in his time and then spit his repugnance a few feet away. ”œThis place stinks of inferiors.”

A deadlocked euphoria of the force made manifest across the universe, it was an unusual disturbance of some nature. The willful omen sent a flourish of caution throughout the chasms of each world and all that were attuned could hear its call. The vessel that carried Exodus shuddered and convulsed with imbalance and then came to a restful halt. ”œWhat now?”

With the meeting adjourned, there was but a few questions that loitered within his mind. There was no time however; the brotherhood was cast off into confrontation once more and a certain commitment strained Exodus to commence even if he did not wish too. With a restless haste, he departed from the chamber and made speed towards a depot of TIE Defenders as was best suited for this new objective; his own vessel was still under construction and therefore ineffective at this point in time. Once there, no questions were asked, he suited up and entered space for Coruscant.

He is no longer human... One cannot have power of that magnitude... And still perceive the universe as we do. Real Name: Aeson Malacoda Syn. Nickname: Exodus; Lord of Transcendence; Lord Malacoda Age: 26 Species: Unknown Height: 6' 3" Weight: 220 lbs Hair: Hay-hued; ends are chocolate brown Eyes: Gray Emerald Sex: Male Homeworld: Dxun Alignment: Evil Force Side: Dark Side Force Element: Lightning; Fire Mastered Style: Djem So Trained by: Renin, Kakuto Ryu, Alora, Nurgle. Trained who: Dominique, Blake, Taim, Julio, Ko Dai Jix Current Affiliation: The Sith Convenant Current Rank: Dark Lord of the Sith Lord of Transcendence; Sith Trinity Lord Malacoda, Of the Seven Comrades: None Enemies: Everything that moves [W]eapons -- Transcendence One of his most recent alchemic masterpieces, Exodus took the concept of a simple double-bladed lightsaber and produced something with much more valuable assets. The hilt has been enveloped in an organic, unrefined membrane removed from the innocence of a simple Kaminoan. The skin although, serves a most notable purpose which is too protect the alchemic property known as ”œThe Eye”

Silence imprisoned the mouths of a few as scarce questions and obvious answers were tossed aside. As each man spoke; it was like weaknesses and strengths alike dawdled above their heads in an incomplete unison, it became all too kiss-and-tell. He made a mental memorandum of this and allowed the information to sink deep before he could opinionate the new Dark Lord. It would seem, so far, he was accurate in his decision to not presume the worst of the man. His authoritative desire to thrive for success outraced his aspiration for reckless brutality, and that in itself was an indispensable quality when it came to control. Discipline was what was lacked; several men chose to speak spiteful and audacious words towards this Darth Quietus, not even out of revulsion but out of show that their head was bigger than their ass, vastly bigger. There would be no insolence, no disrespect from Exodus. As experienced and as powerful as he could be claimed; he would show consideration for those that thrived to prosper and those that still considered his brothers and sisters of this dark cultivation. Although, the choice for Quietus to retaliate in such unpredictable circumstances would be foolish. Out of principle still, he would have Exodus' affiliation in battle. ”œAh...”

”œThe pleasures' mine, old friend. Well met.”

The exchange of words withered as the vessel carved itself into the assiduous outer space and the manifestation of a most mesmeric visualization came to be. It was unlike most creations he had ever witnessed and was comparable to his own exceptional ship. As the two entered a reasonable distance, a communication link was established and the declaration of their identities were acknowledged and documented. Two escort crafts sputtered forth and marshaled Exodus and Yuri into a well-situated docking bay. As the ship landed, the hatch blew open and Exodus hopped out with an unnatural enthusiasm; he was curious to see who this new man was and if he was even commendable for his efforts. Workforce and the candid personnel took a moment to examine his character before he was permitted movement. The bustle and noise of commotion in the background froze and all eyes fell onto him and his counterpart. At this time, the two were split and had to be scrutinized individually in fear of combined efforts which could lead to complete destruction. Exodus stood still, impassive and impatient altogether, his monochrome gauntlet tapping habitually at his side. Pools of a dangerous emerald gazed into the distance, eager to capture the moment and those that made it here prior to him It would be foolish to refute the adrenaline that compelled him and so he accepted it and moved with sudden momentum; completely inconsiderate to the droids that had now addressed him with respect and admiration. His presence continued to spread throughout the enormous ship with voluptuousness unmatched, even as he attempted to obscure his arrival. He did not bother to turn back and ensure that Yuri could pass trouble free, he knew that his brother had his ways if anything came up; he appreciated that about him, he was independent until the death of him. By now, the troupe steered up a dank and unfilled corridor of chambers, each marked with odd illustrations which he could in some sense or another, grasp. Exodus moved with a morose sophistication, his mantle of dark hair bellowed up and down as his strident boots pounded the metallic floors beneath only giving birth to a miserable rhythm. The echo clattered off of the walls and it almost appeared as if his black reflection started to come to life. ..Tip””Tap... ..Tip””Tap... His final destination came to a close as his two escorts paused before a considerable door and shifted open slowly. There was few here, and even such were familiar faces. Exodus heaved a blasé breath into the air and took seat at the adorned table. He didn't bother to introduce himself, those that knew him, knew him well and were shrewd to be so enlightened.

The sail in the course of darkness held a most distasteful flavor in the atmosphere. Words of despair voiced to Exodus that the question troubled his old friend for reasons justified. He let the answer suffice and allowed the topic to pass. A sudden hush captured the moment with naught but the navigational devices sounding to and fro. Out of the two brothers, the one who preferred the quiet and was more comfortable with the silence at all times was Exodus, the man of few words. It was natural that Zeke cracked the calm and from time to time Exodus believed it to be quite refreshing that he did. The question unearthed times of past; their first official undertaking and their first weapon of prized value. The two had fashioned, formed and twisted a blade that was no less apart of their soul than anything else and the two had cherished that piece of history for as long as time could tell or at least Exodus had; it reminded him of whom he was. Instead of a response, Exodus slipped his hand beneath his dark robe and under the obsidian plate of armor upon his chest. What he withdrew was a beautiful hilt of the rarest material encrusted with an unblemished jewel of sheer emerald. The hilt shone with vivid vibrancies, it was as if it was alive. The blade seemed to be misplaced though, and the weapon looked as if it was incomplete. He closed his eyes and allowed his hand to hover above the eye-catching handle. Immediately, the protrusion of material around the jewel shifted and circulated. The hilt hummed with liveliness and a sharp length of death shot forth. ”œWith a few exceptions, absolutely.”

”œSome say his disappearance was explained only by death, but of course, we both know that is far from the truth.”

”œHe'll come with me.”

One twist of fate after another, an intricate web was being spun, but by whom? The Dark Lord unclothed himself before the men here and at a time so opportune; his words, so similar to that of Nurgle, his resolve so identical. Exodus couldn't help but lift an eyebrow with an intrusive boldness as the holograph spoke and declared cohesion within the brotherhood. Hands flushed with emotion clenched until the material of his gauntlet screeched. It was obvious by the look in his eyes that this was beginning to pester the short-tempered behemoth. As the memorandum closed and came to conclusion, Nurgle spoke daringly once more, with further instruction. A breath of displease drained from him as he was not accustomed to being so amenable. He closed his eyes and allowed his face to fall into open palms. His long considerable hair showered over him in a clear expression of his boredom and subsequently was brushed back with simplicity as his lifted his head yet again. As he opened, his vision welcomed a man that allowed awe to overcome the Sith Master. ”œTrowa.”

Inside of him, between the folds of flesh, an adrenaline of effervescence spread and multiplied with the swiftness. Presented to him was a scheme that had never transpired between the brotherhood of matchless evil. For a vast stretch of time, the actions and the movement of the Sith seemed to depend on that of the Empire. This was unacceptable. Exodus lowered his stare towards the floor beneath; he watched his cold reflection in them and fought the itch to spit at it. ”œWhat has become of us?”

His mind shifted frequencies and his thought was thrown into deep contemplation. Could he be serious? He couldn't fathom the scenario that was laid down in front of him; it was without a doubt out of character, or at least, coming from the former God of Plague, one would assume so. However, Exodus knew that between the Sith, there was never once where something was as it seemed; this must've been another one of those cases. He couldn't help question the inner workings of such a scheme but as it appeared, it looked as if this proposal was to further success within the bloodline, so for now, he would show willingness. ”œYour ways are wise Nurgle. I shall offer my prestige.”

The brim of vehemence settled once he established who it was that had called to him. The whirlwind of darkness sunk into its source once more and he breathed an exhalation of reprieve. An unknown pressure of force that stirred around his clenched fist seasoned and then withdrew. The Sith Master spoke, and without question, Exodus complied. There was an honor between the two, a bond that couldn't seem to shatter for an unexplainable reason, but whatever it was, it was formidable. The aforementioned God led him towards a more undisclosed chamber where the bodies of several more Sith were gathered. Exodus familiarized with but one, and the rest were noticed from simple hearsay; he knew a lot more than what was revealed though. Nurgle spoke once more and his cautioning brought a smile to the face of Exodus. He stepped inside the corridor without haste and spoke not a word. Instead, his actions and where he stood positioned next to his old friend would be indication enough of his intentions.

A known emanation carved itself into the planet at an astonishing speed. A ship, unreliable but sufficient for the job accelerated with topnotch speed; it would seem the craft even moved too fast for its own build, but it was controlled with a force that surpassed the norm. The vessel touched down in a matter of moments and suspicion started to arise. Exodus could feel the presence of a few familiar forces; beings with their own extraordinary skills and achievements of their lifetime. He lifted his hood to better disguise his exalted features and entered the academy at risk. His detection slipped from the grasps of those within; his existence was masked from them entirely but his movement still led in their direction. It was an instinctual precaution, but it was necessary for survival; if they could not feel or sense him, they could not surprise him with a sudden ambuscade. He knew of none other that could equal his technique in the manner and so he was conserved. Two colossal doors impeded the room where he felt a new beginning, he paused for but a second, stammered, and then heaved the doors open to present his arrival. His eyes flushed a vicious emerald and his aura exploded with darkness. ”œWhich of you has dared to summon me?”

At last, outside the seize of the adhesion, a lone vessel slithered towards a destination known too well to him. The Empire had fallen, and its weak presence was scurrilous; but it was to be expected. The warrior within abandoned all occurrences of the battle and instead headed forth towards Carida for something unexpected.