Public A Punch in the Mouth (Bleed it OUT)

[Darth Moskvin]

Call M3 Lttle Sun5h1ne
-by Ghost-

Location: Corellia
Objective: Cause Ruckus and Mischief
Gear: Staff of the Damned / Talisman of the Witch / Magical Gems / Bow of Immolation / Hilt
Familiar: Archimedes
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr Domina Prime​

There seemed to be a quiet coffin like feeling of peace surrounding the galaxy as, for the first time, the entirety of the galaxy felt serenity. Government controlled worlds fell, changed philosophies, and some disappeared from obscurity, like rainbow clouds of caustic designs. The worlds, collectively, felt a sense of peace for the first time in many eons, each planetary citizen finding a passion of happiness and a renewed founding to reassign their family values. But not all was complacent. The Sith had survived the great reformation, hidden deep within the catacombs of their own newborn constructions. With the galaxy free from laced death shrouds and rotting linens, it was only a matter of time for certain unbridled minds to stretch their legs of discord. And Corellia was such a place to walk the future dead upon stretchers manifested from failed protective government bodies and infestations of insects seeking to feast with a passion of buffet style morals.

Corellia has always been a world of culture, always standing staunch with a closed fist of defiance against any oppressors; and yet, it was always weakened by minds of politics. The world, under one strong individual, had developed the planet into a fortress nearly impregnatable against any penetrating body. Security: tight. Laws: enforced. Martial Law: laxed but present in the minds of the citizens. In the days of its former glory, the planet was open, always embracing new arrivals. But times had changed, and even with the newly reformation of the galaxy: it stood like a fortress world always. And yet, it was its own security that would provide its own undulated weakness. For no world was ever safe.....Truly.

Running my dead tongue back and forth across my fangs, hoping way day before I die to taste my own blood, I stood in entombed quietness as the transport careened toward the surface of Corellia. I've always hated riding as a passenger, opting to kill and eat....or simply just kill the others with a fragile mental state of statements. I've seen my image splayed across the holonet for too many times I care to count. I am wanted on one planet or two for murder, or in defense, as a person of interest. I love interrogations.... that's how I see others how they perceive me, and in such turmoil of time: I flip the script. I, once the suspect, now becomes the interrogator, unlocking those dark, mystical secrets from those annoyances. But today, I came with another purpose. To meet others. And as I stepped off and out of the transport I was promptly asked for identification: flashing quickly the identification card of a person whom I killed days before to the deck officer whom he barely acknowledged, as his eyes were transfixed on some other less important topic. If he was either paid better or more astute in his duties, he would have noticed the picture was of an elderly man and not of myself: and if he questioned the discrepancies, I would have hand waved his memory away. Time, to some is money, but I'm an undead monster so time to me is nothing more than pettiness.

With formalities aside, it was nearly time to meet the others. We had work to do, but first....I now found myself rather hungry. I watched several passers-by and locked onto one target. She was a Mother of three young, probably smart female triplets, and when she stepped into the station's bathroom: I followed with stalking footsteps and made those girls orphans. I recalled, as I drained the woman inside a rather clean stall, a Holonet report about someone resembling me as an Eater of Men. Ha, how wrong that report was: I only feast on women. Ignorance it seems, will always run rampant.

 

[Domina Prime]

Objective 2: A large mass of citizens pool together in a celebration of peace, prosperity and new alliances as a speech is held by the Senator of Corellia. Festivities, food, and more importantly the promise of unparalleled safety has brought in good numbers a large amount of special individuals whom The Order has taken considerable interest in. The Royals of rival worlds, important CEOs, senators and other VIPs who are collected at the event for one reason or another.

Objective is to identify, capture, and or kill all VIPs listed on a ledger.

Darth Strosius | Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Moskvin |

(Other Sith Operatives Are Free To Join Objectives Or Create Their Own <3)




​

A fated end, the point of no return was among them. Just one more suicide mission...much like a dead end job they all only have one final destination. The Prime despised such an idea...the gull of it all, choosing Corellia as the target for this attack made little different to Dima. Its defenses, it's people, it all barely registered to the creature from beyond the stars. In her eyes, it was just another planet of humanoids strutting about as if they meant business.

And who could blame them? Going so long uncontested must make ones belly heavy with wine and bread while the mind driveled and drools. Comfort and peace only wrought destruction to those who enjoyed them in excess.

And thats all the alien creature saw now, as those five strange eyes twisted and swirled at the city below. The bright lights and dazzling colors seemed almost like a lure to draw her in as slowly her legs drifted across the thin, narrow structural beam that kept her overlooking much of the city many, many stories above what looked to be some form of ceremony.

Of what, the xeno could not tell. Debriefings told of a grand speech by a popular individual at a congregation of important senators, CEOs, royal benefactors all attending to take part in the cerebration of new deals and alliances made. And with so many bodies swarming around the building and pooling inside to hear the Senator of Corellia and be moved by their dramatic words none of them would be prepared for the sequence of events that would soon break out all around them. In fact, Dima herself barely knew. Having been assigned to this specific task while other operatives of the order preformed their own task across the planet in a random surprise attack by solo actors.

The Xeno had touched down on the world days before after sneaking in through a transport vessel. Using her active camouflage to remain undetected by the usual suspects the young Mandalorian now found herself stalking the event, waiting for the right moment to move in and collect the individuals of interest on the list she received.

And as those feet clicked and clacked along the metal sheets of the surface beneath her talons flexed as Dima kept her hands steady at her sides despite being so high up, as if walking on a tightrope above death like a spider...right leg forward left arm back...left leg forward right arm back...a rhythm of movement as her eyes became sharp and her actions...deliberate...mind focused...soul diligent...Dima wanted power but what was power without restraint? Diligence without Sloth...everything that The Prime was seemed to contradict itself in some way...To restrain her own power...to be wrathful yet show mercy...if anything, she seemed indecisive. The idea of butchering random civilians did not particularly interest the creature, not that it really mattered to much considering her greater role in all this...madness.

And as the eruption of cheers and applause filled the city air from the masses gathered below for the oh so inspiring words of hope Dima could feel a tingling...a ripple up her spine as her skin danced. That was the signal to begin the operation, checking the list again as from the depths below a small, tiny little droid could eventually be seeing flying its way up towards Dima to rest in front of her helm.

"I scouted the crowds and audiences! Lot of the marks are in special, closed off areas with guards and security! Few others are mingling with the commoners and mixed in with the masses. This is a mess!" The droid began, causing Dima to tilt her head for a moment before looking back down off the side of the building as if to inspect the tiny little ants below. "It's still not to late to turn back! Do you have any idea how risky this is? How do you even plan on getting away with this? Kidnapping senators and royalty? Getting off world with such important people is NOT going to be an easy task~" The droid warned, still unsure of the logistics of this whole 'suicide mission'.

"What do you see? When you look down at the mice below?" Dima mused, casually leaning down and plopping herself down on the thin metal beam high over the city as the droid glared down at the swarm of people moving around beneath them eating food and enjoying their parties.

"Uhh, very important people~" The droid muttered confused as Dima flicked the droid playfully with an impish giggle erupting from her lips.

"So silly X9, but no. You see, there were many assignments to take of those who wanted to be apart of this. Attacking this, blowing up that, bada boom, bada bing~" Dima explained, gesturing with her four arms awkwardly as she tried to explain herself. "But this one choose secure and contain. Because unlike the other task, this task provides something the others don't." Dima leaned in now and put a hand up to the side of her helm as if whispering a secret only she knew. "It gives leverage! Such important people are loved yes? Well, keeping such people under my claws will keep all the soldier boys at bay, yes?" Dima finished, making the droid stare at her, then look down at the crowd again before giving an almost uncertain nod.

"Well, statistically speaking...that could technically raise your survival rate by a...small percentage. But that means you have to actually capture the marks, and not lose them to anyone else." The droid told Dima as she began swinging her feet below her playfully. "But yes, leverage. Very good Domina. We should stick with that~" X9 agreed, causing Dima to chuckle lightly as she swished her tail about behind her.

"You see, i told you i was getting smarter. My headthoughts are like- totally this big now~" She gestured with her four arms to symbolize how much her intelligence had grown. The droid just staring deadpan as the xeno just sat there looking pleased with herself.

"You've been hanging out with gungans again haven't you?" The droid questioned, causing Dimas eyes to light up in alarm behind her helmet as she nervously averted her gaze.

"Uhhhh, well, i uhhh...................gotta go!" She blurted after a long, awkward pause before carelessly throwing herself from the support beam that held her high in the city skylines. Plummeting down through the buildings and just narrowly dodging vehicles as she threaded the needle through traffic as well as other obstructions. The alien spider holding a strange rifle nosedived directly towards the structure where the celebratory event was being held.

"W-wait! NO DIMA NO!" She droid shouted, floating slowly down towards the mandalorian that just dropped out of the sky like some kind of orbital missile. "Oh kriff, we're dead we're dead we're so kriffing dead! I'M UPLOADING LIVE POSITIONS OF EVERYONE I FOUND ON THE LIST DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE IN THE CONFUSION! NO ONE ELSE MATTERS BUT THE PEOPLE ON THE LIST FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS DON'T KILL THE TARGETS!" X9 shouted through communications into the xenos ear.

The Game Was On

​

 

[Starlin Rand]

Location: A random street on Corellia
Tag: Darth Strosius

Starlin opened his eyes to an unfamiliar galaxy.

Of course, he didn't know it right that minute, but everything had changed. Factions had fallen, empires toppled, conquered worlds freed seemingly overnight. But all Starlin could think about was how sore he was after spending the night sleeping on the street. How did he wind up here?...

Staggering to his feet, he looked around. Where the hell was here, anyway? The city didn't look right. Was he even still on Coruscant? He took out his datapad to check, but his battery was dead. Figures.

Grumbling, he put a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and started off in a random direction, puffing smoke like a chimney as he walked.

 

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: 451 Suit

Armed With: Wind and Fire Wheels



Syd had spent days and weeks by herself, in silent shame and grief over her former Lover Laertia Io 's total fall to the Dark Side, and rebirth as the very same kind of animal she had once been.

I did this. It's my fault. All my fault.

All that was left now was to kill her... somehow...

Syd had not cared for the state of Galactic Affairs in a long, LONG time, except anonymously. So many faces to disappear into. Most of it was spent hunting Brain Demon Cultists. Or other Dark Side users. She had fallen back into old routines, trying to work up the courage to face Laertia.

In one of her more off days, she had tried to ease her depression by just flying with the Force. That was when she sensed someone familiar. Starlin Rand .

She hesitated. It had been a while since they had last met. She always tried to keep an eye on him from afar, write to him, tell him to keep practicing with the Light Side of The Force as much as possible and to help those in need. She had even sent him a sweater she had knitted for him, but had hesitated to ask if he had gotten it.

But she found she desperately needed to see him. To know he was alright.

"Starlin?" She called out from above to him, landing not to far away, clad in her old skintight red and gold suit. One of The Man in White 's little legacies over her.

"It's good to see you." she said, approaching, even as her by now Master level sense ability detected the commotion starting to occur with Domina Prime close by...

She didn't comment on his cigarette use. He was an adult by now, and the last thing he needed was being lectured and coddled.

"So...did you get my sweater?"

 

[Darth Moskvin]

Call M3 Lttle Sun5h1ne
-by Ghost-

Location: Corellia
Objective: Cause Ruckus and Mischief
Gear: Staff of the Damned / Talisman of the Witch / Magical Gems / Bow of Immolation / Hilt
Familiar: Archimedes
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr Domina Prime Tathkawr​

Feeling rather inventive, I stepped into a cantina where rowdiness was the special of the day. So many species were quite inebriated: making my life far simpler than it should. Like a wraith, I strolled up to bar smelling of death and riches. The tender of the bar asked me my poison: And to me, that was a funny question considering who I am, ordering a water on the rocks; and when my drink arrived, I sipped, broke the neck of the patron next to me, raised him and sent him into the fray of frat boys. The image: quite horrifically beautiful. Some people love hearing music to ease the passing of their day, I love hearing chomps, bones breaking, and screams. To me, that's true music.

What I was doing was a simple example of drawing out the authorities: Come be a hero and arrest the Serial Killer. In fact, I was drawing out the authorities to attract the greatest authority of them all: Jedi. Now I don't hate the Jed like my brothers and sisters do; that's a political movement between them and history, which has nothing to do with my outlook on the galaxy. I rarely hold hate in my undead muscle for anyone really (Lies): My BFF Archie tells me to expand my emotions, but he wasn't there when my adopted Father was murdered before my eyes; my adopted Mother whisked away from my life. Now, listen dear reader. I hated my adopted parents, but they did in stall me a sense of survival instincts. So, I murder because I can and will always murder everyone minus children, I do have morals.

And as the bar brawl grew way beyond expectations: mostly my dead friend was rather good at his craft, I stood up and turned into my Warform (If you never met a Sangir, well enjoy the show), and slaughtered the whole entire patronage, returning to my form and finessing my drink before leaving tipping the bartender's corpse. I will not allow my reputation to be tainted because I don't tip.

 

[Tathkawr]

-

The young wookiee padawan had been sitting on this bench for quite some time. He had originally been assigned to accompany a jedi knight to Corellia to practice the force in an uncontrolled environment. But they had become separated once they had entered into the city. Tathkawr had found his way here to the city square through smell alone, which was very useful for wookiees to navigate their environment. Reaching into his little bandolier pouch and withdrawing some cookies from it. He had quite the strange obsession with them coupled with a rather strange appearance made many people avoid him.

He had expected to be found by his jedi knight companion, but it would seem the force had other plans. A powerful disturbance caught him by complete surprise resulting in him having to bring a hand to his head to prevent a migraine. Eyes shifting back and forth across the city square for only a brief moment in time.

The force was calling him to something with the screaming sounds of panicked civilians doing little to settle his nerves.

Gripping the wooden hilt of his lightsaber within his hand to remind himself of why he became a jedi.

Beginning to run from the bench towards the general direction the force called him to.

Coming across quite a formidable person ( Darth Moskvin )

"Wuyagah Arrrrrrwrrrrrrrooon."
(Stop right there)

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Distraction
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Starlin Rand

Corellia, a world of many talents and even more talented residents. A world so lively and full of potential. On the border of the Galactic Alliance and yet still safe from the wrath of the enemies that would dare invade or despoil their great alliance. A world that believed that lie. But most importantly it was a world that had recently entered into the gaze of the Sith once more, and now suffered for it.

:"A-All units, we need backup! I repeat we need-AGH!": The call for help was silenced by a sickening crunch as Alisteri crushed the officer's head beneath his boot. "A shame you don't arm your security forces as well as your armies." The Sith muttered with a small sigh as he glanced behind him at the five other bodies that he had left behind. What was meant to be a normal patrol had quickly turned into a small but brutal altercation whenever he had jumped onto the side of one of the security transports and wrenched the driver out.

Normally one used discretion when walking the streets of an enemy world, but this was no normal occasion. This time the infiltration and assassinations could be carried out by the other Sith as far as he was concerned. He had a much simpler job to do this time: cause a distraction. And as sirens blared in the distance, a grin slipped onto his masked face as he stepped away from the burning wreck of a transport and the bodies littering the street.

"Come and get it Alliance scum."

 

[Starlin Rand]

"Starlin?"

Starlin's jaw dropped at the sound of Syd's voice above him, the lit cigarette falling limply from his open mouth. "S-Syd?" he sputtered, utterly stunned.

The shock washed over him. He felt strange. She said it was good to see him. He didn't know what to do or say or even feel.

"So... did you get my sweater?"

"Sweater?" he echoed. She had sent him a sweater. Had he received any sweaters lately? "I don't think so. I... I've been living out of the Bright Knight..." Made it easy for him to lose mail, especially when he was traveling from planet to planet.

Before he could say anything more, a commotion in the far distance drew his attention. His antennapalps picked up screams and shouts, the sound of a fire crackling - and in the Force, he felt people dying. "Chit," he blurted, already running in the direction of the burning transport. The reunion with Syd would have to wait.

His hangover burned away amid the blazing Light of the Force as he sprinted to the site of the wreck. Bodies were already piling up in the streets - and the one obviously responsible, a black-clad figure, was still standing nearby.

Starlin ignited his lightsaber and shoto, adding blue and orange to the light of approaching police sirens and flickering flames. "Hey!" he shouted, hoping to get the guy's attention. "That's a really crappy Vader costume. The helmet shape is all wrong! Man, you historical LARPers are getting lazy."

Syd Celsius Darth Strosius​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The universe was changing.

That by itself was not too radical of a statement, the universe was always changing after all.

Still, this change was different, it promised shifts and turns that he had not expected, could not have expected.

There was a stability, a security, in what currently existed in the present, and he knew that every second that passed it could change, every night he slept, he could awake to a whole new brave new world.

Yet, he had only ever thought those things, he had never truly expected them to come about.

He did not know what had happened, not truly, yet there was a feeling in the air, a chill, as it blew through his hair, something deep within the core of his being that screamed silently against the wrongness of it all.

Something had happened, something had gone wrong, yet he did not know what it was.

An unemotional mask was upon his face, while to those around him, he looked like your standard gentleman, black and red suit, curled back black hair, and shining blue eyes, that glimmered and promised so much.

He had come to Corellia when he had felt this change, yet Corellia gave about as many answers as Sith Space had, there were murmurings, rumours, and words from the galactic west and east, changes happening in governance, as pieces moved rapidly around the board. Yet even still, he could not for the life of him make sense of this wind of change.

So instead he had chosen to ignore it, instead chosen to be drawn to a plot by his fellow Sith, to cause chaos and cause death. For war was coming, they all knew, a war not among the Rim, not among each other, but for victory, for conquest, for mastery over the self and the Force too.

They were to be the vanguard of this victory, yet even that was placing too much importance on themselves than really existed. They were not here with orders from superiors, were not here with any real plan of attack, instead, they were to be as they had told themselves the goal was.

Chaos.

Malum had himself, opted for something organised, something orderly, among the chaos. Eliminate the Senator or Monarch of Corellia, either by killing them, or capturing them.

Ambitious? Certainly.

Possible? Not likely.

Yet, had that not been most of his ventures?

He twirled off his dancing partner, as he took the hands of another, stepping forth, with arms moving in long-since practiced movements.

Yet it gave him a moment, a solitary moment to look up as well.

Purple.

It was a purple smudge, that was quickly becoming far larger, and far faster, as it descended from the sky.

It seemed his orderly chaos was going to quickly become chaotic chaos.

Perhaps he should have felt more frustrated at that, yet the winds of change had long since robbed that from him at the moment. Additionally, a distraction could do him very well.

His eyes blazed a reddish-blue hue, as the real gaze attempted to break forth from the confines of the contacts. He threw his partner into the crowd, and within a second, he had become invisible within the gathered assembly, invisible from sight, and invisible from sense.

Chaotic chaos would win out.

Domina Prime , Open.