Kyrie Eleison Posted December 1, 2020 Share Posted December 1, 2020 She felt small against the tide, pulled this way and that by the emotions and personalities that crowded her mind. There had once been a fire around which they would all crowd for warmth, but now the flame had diminished with the influence of the force-eating lizards that inhabited the shuttle, and the voices had increased to a howl and like wolves they were hunting. The Anzati huddled into the crash webbing, bringing her armored knees to her small chest, hugging herself about the ankles, burying her eyes into the darkness. Her jaw was set , stress and self-hatred boring their way through her defenses to make them grind. Her lips moved in a silent song, one she sang to keep the wolves at bay. You come here… To Korriban? The Imperial Knight winced and brought her head up to stare out the viewscreen apart from her. There was flickering and reflective sand. Flitting lights swam in her eyes, distant cries echoing on silent winds Look around and you will see them. The burned, the tortured, the slain. Here they lie, desiccated in the sands and drowning in the Phlegethon. She could almost smell the burnt flesh. The tormented screaming. Her fingers clung to her crash webbing, white as alabaster in the sunlight. Did you think the dead lie still here? This is not a place of rest. Her torments were fast becoming her elements. A voice cut into her wallowing terror, that of Sandy Sarna. “Well lets hope they don’t just shoot us down eh.” Kyrie turned her head to look at the woman, taking in the reassurance of her humor, the warmth of her smile. It was almost enough to stoke the flames of her internal fire, but the lizard’s influence was far too great. She winced back a forced smile, her stutter pronounced as she pointed to the lights on the sands that only she could see. “Do you see the t-them c-coming? They yearn for life, hunger for it - like a pack of wolves on a hunt…” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kyrie Eleison Posted December 21, 2020 Share Posted December 21, 2020 The Master of the Exorcists could feel the sand shift beneath her feet as she walked, hunched in her cowl against the beating sunlight. The lights were dazzling. She felt incredibly small against the inherent darkness of this place. Even the ysalimiri could not keep the intrusive thoughts of the Dark Side at bay. Do you enjoy the touch of the dark? The sands twisted beneath her feet and she stumbled away from the party, her gaze diverted towards the northwest. Towards the Valley of the Dark Lords. Unnatural temptation. She desired to reach out, to call out in the force. You gaze into the dark, girl. The Imperial Knight stepped to the edge of the lizard’s influence, letting herself regain some strength. The air itself was repulsive. It stank of ancient death. Echoes of crimes and torture clung to her traveler’s clothing, and she shook herself as if to shake them all off her. Her mind formed the lessons of Il-Andon Rorik, her former master. …When darkness stains life, it is at first a slow spread. That of temptation, of lowered defenses, of the sweet caress of vice. Kyrie breathed in a lungful of the heated air, letting it fill her lungs. A simple thing, a touchstone of physicality that would help wrench herself from the psychosis that plagued her. Finally, before you are aware, you are a wanderer. Darkness has changed everything; it has turned your home into a foreign land, and those you hold as beloved into strangers. Kyrie turned her eyes back to her team and retreated into the dampened force. If any Sith had sensed her, it would be that stirring potential of an apprentice, of a partially corrupted thing. She would be a temptation, but nothing more. When she spoke to Master Sarna it was with an almost different voice, a different personality; that of a harnessed lord of war. A dragon in chains, awaiting its opportunity. “Yes… We will stake out the perimeter. If any Sith come, they wont know what hit them.” 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kyrie Eleison Posted December 28, 2020 Share Posted December 28, 2020 The Exorcist could not hide her disappointment at the lack of Sith response to her prodding, to the trap she had set. She dug a bootheel into the shifting sand and shaded her eyes against the harsh sun, staring hard at Master Sarna. She had no love of the Jedi Order, but this one had treated her differently. An unnatural kindness for those who forsook life itself by the tenets of their ridiculous code. At her feet, in the emptiness of fractured stone, revelation stirred. “Tis… but a world of ghosts. Nothing of any worth remains here for the Sith.” The woman knelt, her probiscis flicking at the dry air, as if beckoning battle to come to them. She placed a hand within the warm granules of sand, feeling the radiant heat against her bare skin, focusing on the physicality of it. An anchor against the darkness in her mind. She let out a small sigh of relief and opened a leather pouch at her side, filling it with the twisting, sparkling sand. It felt like a black weight on her side, as if it contained a revenant. More practice. She turned her face to the east, to the setting sun and walked towards extraction and the U-Wing that would bring the team back to Alliance Command 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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