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Member Since 30 Jul 2015
Offline Last Active Today, 10:00 AM

#1843494 A Good Run

Posted by Antherion on 11 August 2018 - 11:24 AM

Best of wishes to you as you reach new heights in your academic career — and thanks for playing the slickest, coolest assassin I’ve had the pleasure of reading!

#1842889 What are some of y'alls non-RPing Hobbies?

Posted by Antherion on 10 August 2018 - 04:31 AM

- Tabletop Role-Playing Games

- Canvassing / Lobbying 

- Reading


I used to do fencing, but don't have the time or energy with nonstop classwork. God willing, I'll be able to get back into that sometime soonish, though, or some other sport. 

#1842721 What Comes Around

Posted by Antherion on 09 August 2018 - 09:02 PM

Coreship; Boarding Action



It was around the time the Sith he knew as The Slave was an individual worth betting on. While Darth Vesper had waited, biding his time (certainly not wallowing in his own misery), the strange being had reassembled a certain Darkstaff, and even, generously, used it to cure his decrepitude, the legacy of long, long years of stasis. Years of solitude and nightmares. Ever since his duel with that loathsome Jedi, these years had weighed on him more heavily - his heart still felt the dull ache of compassion, instincts towards mercy he needed to willfully quash - but this was conflict. Conflict might hurt, but it's strength. And here, far away from those who had wronged him and whom he had wronged, his spirit did not feel quite so split open. He could muster the purpose needed to marshal his power. That was enough. A vacation from his introspective misery and the utter ruin of all the designs he had laid before fleeing to the role of scavenger, executive, grave-robber. 


So, when the hole he carved in the hull of the ship with a flourish of his stolen lightsaber fell inwards, when the figure - dressed in simple, white robes suitable for combat - made contact with the floor of the craft, Vesper was smiling. However, as a certain former Dark Lord awakened, even something as stress-free as a simple treasure hunt began to curdle with anxiety. The smile quickly turned into a thin-lipped expression of concern: he could sense power, coiling outwards, and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt a touch of recognition, a ripple in the Force: something genuinely strong was awake. And now, it knew that he and his fellow GenoHaradan were here.


A rushed jog, down the hall, around a corner, left, right, right, left - and he found himself in touch with the main boarding group. He slowed to a brisk walk, falling in line with them.


"I feel our little incursion just got a lot more... time-sensitive. Shall we?"


Darth Maliphant | Thesh | Arekk | Koda Fett | Jorel Geller | Nilia Saavilin | Thraxis | Darth Adekos

#1841528 Of Light and Shadow

Posted by Antherion on 07 August 2018 - 07:19 PM

"I was going to say you had broken me. No, it seems we both left scars. I knew we would collide, but I never expected it to be this depressing." Once, seeing the scars he had marked on Cedric's body would have filled him with glee. Now, it seemed... bitter. Pointless. "My state, to the extent I can claim it, won. The rebel worlds are brought to heel. Yet you're the happy one between the two of us. Another thing I don't understand, I suppose."


"And you'd thought I died? Knowing how stubbornly I cling to life? Tsktsk, I'm almost disappointed." The Sith chuckled darkly, then let out a heavy sigh. "Once, I thought death was the worst thing that could happen to someone. Looking down the barrel of however long this body of mine has left in this state..."


Again, a sigh. As the aura of stinging light receded, the Sith crept closer - stepping slowly, gingerly. "Of course I would seek you out. You seem to want something from me ever since you decided to let me live, and if I can give it to you, maybe you'll tell me what you've done to me. I didn't die - but I can't fight like this. Not toe-to-toe with any one of my rivals. If they scented blood, they would kill me. No, more than that, I just can't bear living like this. Not with this pain."


A hoarse whisper, barely audible above the rushing of the rain. "I have survived torture and agony and bodily ruin, another's aid even once spared me death. Yet you broke my purpose. I am shattered. What have you done to me, Cedric? Stars above, what have you done?"


Cedric Grayson

#1841337 Of Light and Shadow

Posted by Antherion on 07 August 2018 - 11:52 AM

He was past the point of caring - about safety, about sense. He was past the point of his loathing of the Jedi weakness of compassion. He could care less about any of it right now, it meant less than nothing to him. First and foremost - before anything, before everything, he wanted answers. The strange figure of Cedric Grayson, the Jedi who knew war and embraced a life of military struggle, knew ambition and embraced a life of statesmanship, yet in defiance of all that Antherion thought was the way of the Galaxy did not fall to the Dark, had reached out to him with an open hand. Had made the decision not to kill him when he knew it was well in his power to do so - a quick saber through his weeping eye socket during their last exchange of blows would have been enough. He did not have it in him to cling to life, and he had never had the power to transfer his essence on his own; his spirit was split to the bone and he was vulnerable. But he needed to know why his heart was tearing itself apart, he needed to know now


To know why he hadn't killed him. No, more than that.


He knew the place to go, to wait, to find him. The place where he had mocked him. The place where diplomacy and peace had failed him. Lightning blossomed in the sky, and a rapport of thunder rippled through the air, and over the hill, his figure came into view - simple robes of black, his body soaked to the bone, his eyes still burning a furious and insistent gold. The cloth clung heavily on his frame, lending him a weight that he did not have on his own, highlighted by how it hanged off him - he had always been fairly thin. His hair was slicked to his forehead, to the back of his neck, seeming darker. His expression was drawn, poorly disguising the anguish he brimmed with. 


He kept his distance, mindful of the Blade of Ruusan, for a moment content to blend into the shadow and watch the figure move. So flushed with power, so full of life. He felt close to death and the oblivion of death, now more than ever, and less afraid than he by all rights should. Compared to Cedric, now, he seemed sickly. Frail. He bit his lip.




Cedric Grayson

#1841105 It is unaVOIDable, it is your destiny. [TSE Dom of Nathema Hex - AN,21]

Posted by Antherion on 07 August 2018 - 12:16 AM

One flaw in the endless exhumation and reburial of Sith power - put enough darksiders in the Galaxy, turned loose like so many ants on a fresh corpse, and you only have so long before the bones are picked clean. In this golden era of the Dark Side, a time of nigh-unceasing war and winnowing and explosive rates of Force sensitivity, the past was being dug up faster than it was being buried. So many tomb worlds - Korriban, Malachor, Prakith - and yet the graveyards were running out of ghosts. 


It irked Vesper. He knew better than to believe in the lie of cosmic justice, prated to the unthinking masses, but when enough suffering accumulates in a single body (and he had so, so much) one begins to involuntarily, instinctually itch for payment, for recompense. He was, as far as he was concerned, entitled to it; he did not expect to receive it from some mechanism of the Force. No, he would take it with his two hands. 


Exhaling hard, the Sith ceased his tiring work of burning his way through the jungle, armed with nothing but his bare hands. That was more a function of Antherion's anger than anything needful - if anything, marking a prominent trail to his destination. Turning backwards, he pursed his lips. If what I'm looking for can't be moved away immediately, he thought, then I've effectively ensured I have no secrecy to study it in. What I find, all Sith on this planet find. 


The slender man balled his fists. So be it. 


In the distance, a clearing - ruins in the truest sense of the words. As he walks, a pebble, then fist-sized chunks of stone, and on, and on - and before long, a temple, blasted to pieces by the force of an explosion. This was what he had been searching for, truly. Grown over by moss, smoothed by rain and wind - so much, erased. Something, perhaps, left over. Stepping towards the rubble, he rolled up his sleeves. I am Sith. I am majestic, no matter what stains me. And I will dig through whatever mud I must, to heal this aching in my heart.

#1840949 Insert Some Genuine Thought-Provoking Thread Title Here

Posted by Antherion on 06 August 2018 - 05:54 PM

When you make a habit of travelling, when you have the privileges afforded to you by Sith status, you see all sorts of places. The pyramidal tombs of Ankhypt, reaching out from the windblown desert sands, monuments to the immortality of long-dead kings. The solemn temples of Korriban, sands dyed red by the blood of endless power struggles, braziers burning blue into the night with sorcerous flames as constellations named and marked by the sorcerers of old wheeled in the sky. Malachor and Ziost, Bastion and even the Greywall, the austere fortress of the Jedi Lord who had dealt him terrible injury - perhaps the only Jedi to garner his respect as well as win his hatred for showing that even in that tepid order, there were some who were not poisoned against power, against ambition. 


Today, Darth Vesper saw the provisional headquarters of Wayne Tech and bit his tongue, wondering why he hadn't sent one of his aides, a proxy, or simply holocalled in. This building reeked of mid-level corporate dealings he by all rights as a man of his station should be above. Though he knew why, the wondering was important because if he admitted to himself that he did know - that he was rendering respect to the man he was about to deal with to smooth over relations - he would not be able to keep himself from leaping out a window.


Vectivus did business, Vesper thought as he climbed the stairway to the office - loath to take an elevator, a metal box with no escape routes - And near all the prominent Sith Lords of our time do business, he thought, and if I am willing to hand my soul over to a psycopath with a lightning rod of power to let him turn me into his mirror image, I am not above doing business. 


Bury your anger. Let it fester. Let it ferment into the wine of hatred, drink deep, and feel power. The way of the Sith. Vesper breathed. It would be uncouth if any of the papers he was handling caught fire in the middle of discussion. 


Even so, let's make this quick. 


He had dressed well for the occasion - his usual accouterments, the dark robes of the Sith, were traded for a set of short, pressed robes of white shimmersilk, trousers and slippers of the same color. His short, blonde hair had a tousled look, and he went for understated jewelry: a metal choker, almost of burnished, rippling steel, and a single, silver ring. He almost would have seemed a simple executive, dressed to impress, but pride demanded he not bury the signs of his status: his lightsaber hung at his hip, and he did not disguise the swirl of rippling gold in his eyes - the color of absolute, domineering power. 


Curtly stepping in after a knock, the Lord sized up the room, the man - sitting at his desk, instead of coming to greet him. A sleight. Not acted one, but not unnoticed. A cursory glance through the Force revealed... nothing. A mind of iron discipline or Epicanthix. It seemed that ever since those pillaging Panathan pirates had taken the reigns of all Sith activity in the Galaxy, Epicanthices were half as common as humans. Perhaps a testament to their excesses - even his once pristine human body was tainted by the alien blood, forcing him to reconsider his speciest views to something exactly the same, but excepting himself.


He opted for boldness. Donning a winning smile, he stepped forward and extended hand. "Mr. Wayne, I presume?"


Judas Wayne

#1839980 It is unaVOIDable, it is your destiny. [TSE Dom of Nathema Hex - AN,21]

Posted by Antherion on 05 August 2018 - 12:57 AM

OBJECTIVE: IV ; Searching For Power

LOCATION: The Deep Wilderness; Nathema




He didn't want them to see him. He didn't want them to look him in the eye. Antherion, the Darth Vesper, on a world touched, irreversibly tainted and riddled with the artifacts of the mightiest of the Sith Lord to ever live in history - a Sith Lord he had once served in the Empire of - was hiding his shame. He could not stand to be on the front. He could not stand to throw himself into more battle and bloodshed while this hollow pain gnawed at his heart and tore at his soul. He would come out of his hiding when he could look his fellows in the eye, join the peerage of Lords and stand with equal dignity. Not a moment sooner.


But even as he waited for that day to come, this pain made him no less deadly. 


"Show me," Antherion whispered under his breath, walking forward through the forest without abandon, without regard for subtlety or safety. "Show me what you found, all those millennia ago. Show me the secret to your heartlessness. Show me the key to your power." He pressed a hand to his chest, biting his lip. A memory of a face, a human face:


His sister, tears streaking her face. His sister, withering and dying. His sister, who was his to kill, whose power was his to steal, who belong to him and was his to possess, taken from him forever by time and the ravages of the twisting nether of the Force. There were many faces in his nightmares of late, but this was the one that haunted him the most. He did not know how to process the twisting in his gut, the knife-like feeling in his heart that he never before had felt. He only knew he wanted it to stop.


"Show me how you were free." 


He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing the Force for a hint - a clue. He got a direction. Southwest. He turned and faced the thicket of trees, raising a hand as he closed his eyes and concentrated. There was a hiss, and a sickening shiver as the energy leaped from his fingertips, and a sting in his eyes at coils of black smoke, and a strong smell of burning. 


He slashed the hand in a quick chop and the air cleared. He had no regard for this wilderness, and no reason to fear spending the coin of his power freely. He had enough suffering to fuel it. Leaving a scorched trail, he tread on the grey cinders, the path clear, intent on finding the object of his desires.

#1810072 Nipping Buds

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 08:54 PM

When his victim began to show pain - and he had been waiting for it, eagerly  - Vesper smiled, bearing his teeth. A viper, bearing his fangs as he circled around his prey. 
His serpent writhed on the ground for a few moments before going limp: it hadn't died, too many of its vital functions were mechanical, but it was damaged enough to require intense healing - if he wanted to use it again, he would need to return to Syngia and restructure its muscles, its nervous systems... a shame, an inconvenience, but not an insurmountable setback. He made a mental note to later retrieve its flaccid form once he dealt with the matter at hand.
These mental defenses, he thought as his forceful assault came up against the walls Darth Animus had erected, are surprisingly sophisticated. Of course, they eventually began to crumble - this was his area of specialty - but it bought time. Too much time. Soon, the figure was rushing at him, ready to rip open his throat - he grimaced, involuntarily raising one hand between them, memories fresh in his mind of Darth Abyss' boot coming down mercilessly on his neck - to make no mention of the consequences of that poison coming too close to him.
He hooked his fingertips, focusing his mental attack: not the general mind itself, but the motor centers of the Sith's brain, seeking to have him sprawled out in front of him by limbs that would no longer obey, going limp, feeling as though they were standing on water, simply failing
"Shadow Lord - yes, only the shadow of a lord - and there is no shadow that the night does not swallow. Now, b̞̳͕͇̙͍͖ͬ̒̿e̘͕̲͒̈̎̊ͮ͗ ͍̗͐ͩͯ̂̂s̮̀ͩͭͩ̒t̅ͦ͑ͧi̬̘̹̮͎̱̎l̦̭ͬl̩̩̻̞͑͑͌.̜͖̞̖ͯ̆ͫ"

#1810053 Map Index v2: Hexes for Nexus

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 08:13 PM

Zeradias Mant


Zone 2 complete

#1809728 Taking Avatar Requests

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 08:51 AM



Coincidentally, that is the only currency which I accept.

#1809547 Taking Avatar Requests

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 12:53 AM





Here ya go!

#1809541 Sith Lord to Serve

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 12:40 AM

Caztihs Krixus


I know we can't be 100% sure it'd be a fit 'til the first time we RP, but I'd love to have a thread with ya.

#1809532 Taking Avatar Requests

Posted by Antherion on 17 June 2018 - 12:04 AM



Do you have a specific type of border you'd like?


Edit: Here are two samples of what I can possibly give you with a default background (If you'd like, adding color to this sort of image is easy): 


KW85IEd.png  Y4Vizel.png

#1809453 Taking Avatar Requests

Posted by Antherion on 16 June 2018 - 09:01 PM

Vesper's Avatar Workshop









I do not know how to do gifs, but will otherwise take requests.