As Natural As Breathing

[Mythos]

Animus finished his rotation of moves spending what energy he did have to have all moves strike with power and precision, the pain in his side and numbness of the right side of his torso did not hinder his moves, but the throbbing pain was still there. Animus did not notice his enemy fall but instead fell backwards in motion to observe and analyze what had just happened. His eyes narrowed in Scorn because Animus, was now going to do a very Un-Sith thing. His character was not modeled to behave as most Siths, Sure, he could fight dirty at times but that was not the point, Animus followed a very Vague concept of Honor, so Vague it sometimes seemed to belong in the Jedi Order, however, many things of his character apart from that did not.

Animus gave a duelist salute, a sight inclination of the torso and the parting of the blade angularly to the right, the act pained him beyond what his grimace would discern, but upon reaching his stance again the pain was dulled in part. It was meant to say; i recognize you and invite you to attack, an old tradition Animus meant to keep. Animus however, was not feeling too well, his ribcage slashed and various wounds over his body including one particular one he wouldn't remove, 3 inches from his heart, courtesy of [member="Darth Pyrrhus"].

Turing off his lightsaber he clenched his side wound looking at [member="Setzi Lunelle"] and smiling. He began laughing, every breath hurting his until he coughed causing even more pain and a cry of frustration, he thought avoiding death by inches was terribly hilarious, he thought if death would ever catch him, let a grin be on his face that would strike fear into the hearts of enemies. His head feeling a bit woozy after the battle, maybe an internal injury he breathed in and out. Now came the good part. He was tired and a bit dizzy but he tried to shake it off with some focus and steady breathing.

He turned and faced Tanuk, the master of Makashi, Animus was going to get the most of of this engagement, if there was some neat trick, move of footwork, angle of attack, or attack pattern he could squeeze of the Togruta, he was determined to do it. Animus bowed to Tanuk the same way, the move causing the same pain, but he felt it die down a notch, the eyebrow raised at the realization. Looking to the master as he prepared his stance, now, an Apprentices' stance of makashi, well endowed and smile across his lips, arrogance and pride diminishing the pain of various puncture wounds, but not much. "Shall we Master Pyrrhus?"

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Darth Pyrrhus observed as the two acolytes clashed together. They seemed more content to exchange blows between themselves, rather than direct them at the Togruta. What this meant was simply that his role became observing their form and offering advice as they went on. He had been doing so, and he continued to offer his input. Both seemed to drift into other forms. It wasn't unexpected, they were but initiates to the Contention Form. Still, how were they to progress if they did not correct their mistakes?

Setzi often slipped into Shii-Cho, while Animus often slipped into... Well, everything. Juyo and Ataru, mixed in with Makashi. The Acolyte seemed to be going for a jack of all trades - proficient in all, but expert in none. It tempted Pyrrhus to beat the advantage of specialization into him. "Don't be so tempted to try to master everything. In pursuit of that, you will master none. Focus." Never had he seen Vrag break from her Makashi, never had he seen Vrag defeated. "Changing forms allows you to change the flow of battle, perhaps even catch your opponent off-guard. But beyond the element of surprise, that is it. Once that is spent, all your cards are on the table. In a prolonged combat, a master of one form will prevail." It was slightly ironic and hypocritical of Pyrrhus to say this, as he himself was proficient in Shii-Cho, Makashi, Soresu and Djem So. However, such were the fruits of his training, imparted on him by his Master. Now, he sought to specialize in two. "Let Shii-Cho be your foundation. Prioritize mastering one form. When you're proficient enough, add one more. No more than two, or you will stretch your knowledge too thin. Build your style on one pillar, let one more compliment the first. If you've done this, and still feel a need for more, then pursue that path. But be aware of the drawbacks." In the end, it mattered little what he did or didn't do. If he succeeded, it would not matter. All that mattered was strength. The only reason Pyrrhus could stand here and say this was that he had yet to be proven wrong. Until that happened, and the reality of someone stronger was imposed upon him, he would impose his own world view onto others. This was his way of the Sith.

Pyrrhus continued to offer his input on their technique, as the battle raged on. Setzi's Rage was glorious to witness. Yet, it was a taxing power, and she was still new to it; or so he assumed. It burnt away at her reserves quickly, and it could seem like she unleashed her rage too soon. Animus, with the wounds he had already sustained, would likely have defeated himself with the exhausting acrobatics of Ataru. Patience had prevailed above fury. Then again, Pyrrhus with his fascination for Soresu, was biased.

Then came the inevitable. Setzi lost momentum, after her stamina reserve was quickly diminishing. Then Animus fought back. Though they were both Acolytes of the One Sith, and right now he was their trainer; Pyrrhus was biased. He was playing favourites. One of the two was his apprentice. More so than that, she was his lover. To see her pushed back, to see his blade cut against her chest... No more! - Setzi shouted. Their duel had ended, as Animus offered her mercy, but all the while, the Togruta's fury had steadily been building. It was a silent storm in the making, hidden beneath the surface of his red skin.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion

I'm sorry, Master Pyrrhus - her voice sounded into his mind. She must really have felt ashamed, or distressed, to call him by that name. No reply came, nor did he look over at her - his eyes were fixed on Animus. And he was... Laughing. His attack had seized, and now came the mockery of his defeated opponent. Of course, what he probably didn't consider, was that a mockery of Setzi Lunelle, was, by extension, a mockery of the Togruta Knight, Darth Pyrrhus. Animus distracted him from replying to Setzi, as his mind was on something else entirely.

Through passion, I gain strength

Animus turned to Pyrrhus, and bowed. The Togruta's only reply was extending his palm, as his lightsaber hilt almost violently ripped itself from his belt and back into his grip. There was no hesitation. It immediately ignited. Had he realized what was coming yet?

Through strength, I gain power

The acolyte before him was already weakened by previously gained wounds, as well as tired from the spar. Moreover, the Togruta outranked him. Was it a fair engagement, if Pyrrhus went all out? No. But when was love ever fair? Indeed we shall, Acolyte Malgus, indeed we shall. Pyrrhus kicked off from where he was standing, darting against the Acolyte before him. More so than before, when the Knight had nonchalantly swung his blade towards Animus; now he struck with vengeance. Like before, he held the blade in his left hand, and had his body facing sideways towards Animus (left shoulder towards him). He stepped in with a series of stabs, aiming to wound with the tip of his blade. They were pretty straight-forward, though fast. Target areas were thigh, hip, waist and shoulder. Distance played to his advantage, and he was not about to give it up.

Through power, I gain victory

[member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Darth Azurea"]

 

[Mythos]

Animus was overjoyed to see the Master accept his challenge... Yet another step towards Knighthood was to prove himself worthy before a new Master. Animus could feel the Dark side of the Force dripping from [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] like a fountain of Power and Strength feeding Animus and enveloping him in it's strength like water to a Sponge. Animus Was wounded, but the Dark Side flew within him in such force that he brushed aside exhaustion with the excitement and joy of Battle. It was time to put what he had learned to the Test. Tanuk came before him with the same rotation that had given him his wounds, Animus took his Advice to heart and based in Shi-cho to maintain himself in close and deflect his attacks with the pressure of his lightsaber in a Simple Slash to the right and deflect the thrusts, The clashing of his lightsaber as Animus stepped to the right of Pyrrhus to put himself in his chest and negate the Advantage of his power.

Using a darting unexpected movement Animus then Switched to Juyo and with force augmentation increased the speed of his footwork and the one handed lightsaber stance to execute an attack routine yo Master in the Face with with a flurry of Juyo strikes.
Animus had lifted a barrier shield of Duelists of the force, to protect him from attacks such as force Choke and limiting the Force push that may or may not come, this took concentration and focus, but he was taught how to fight while that invisible wall was up.

If Animus had learned anything with the fight between him and the Acolyte it was this. Success or Death.

[member="Darth Azurea"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Unlike the first time their blades had crossed, when the Acolyte had seemed overwhelmed; he now held his own. In spite of his injuries, Animus attempted to play with the Knight. Maybe he just took long to warm up. While the Acolyte drank from the dark fountain, stealing some of its power, Darth Pyrrhus was the fountain. He was where it all began. And it was time to flood this room.

Animus would have seen the rotation before; it was the same he had opened with earlier. Its purpose was to tease and entice, a safe place from where to launch the engagement and tempt the opponent. Animus slashed at the Togruta’s blade, pushing it to the side. The dance continued. Combat was fluid, and much like flowing water, when Animus stepped to Pyrrhus’ right, the Knight stepped to the left. Their blades spun around, and once more Animus was facing Pyrrhus’ shoulder, his chest no longer exposed. The experimentality of Juyo was great, but he was competing with the very self-aware footwork of Makashi.

Then the Acolyte followed up with his counter-attack. Dark Side gathered within the Acolyte, channeling through his body. The Force was powering his speed simultaneously as it served as a shield. Animus had been well trained, the Acolyte was more advanced than he had initially given him credit for. It felt like it was only yesterday that he was brought to the Academy on Glee for the first time. They grow up so fast… Nostalgia aside, the disengaged crimson blade was brought up in a guard.

With an economy of movement and conservation of energy, Pyrrhus made sure that he required the least amount of movement possible to deal with the incoming strikes. This was both to give him more time to react, as well as have him use no more energy than what was absolutely necessary.

Mid-combination, Pyrrhus parried. His lightsaber moved beneath Animus’ own, and pushed it upwards. The intent was to open up Animus. Of course, he had no second blade to strike him with, but his right hand was free. He assumed the window would only last for but a moment, but it was all he required. Animus had indeed put up a shield. Now came the time to test how dutifully he had erected it. Would the dam break, or shatter from the battering ram of the giant?

All the rage that had built up as Setzi had slowly been beaten back, the humiliation from Animus’ mocking laughter, the insult to his apprentice that extended via her to Pyrrhus himself… His fury had indeed been great, but he had kept it bottled up. He had nurtured his hatred, like the good Sith he was, to the point where it nearly felt like it was giving him actual physical pain. Until this very moment. Now the torrent of burning hot hatred was unleashed in the form of a powerful Force Blast.

For this particular Acolyte, the Togruta conjured up a concentrated blast of pure dark side energy, hurled towards his core. The near uncontrollable blast of power was a dangerous tool, that could obliterate objects, even destroy living begins. It was a good thing his shields were up. Afterwards, there were visible burn-marks on the aspiring sorcerer’s right hand, although Pyrrhus felt no pain.

[member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Darth Azurea"]

 

[Mythos]

The Only times where a shield had failed Animus was when he was not focused on keeping it up or when he was not ready for an Impact. When Animus came for the attack he noticed that the Master had relinquished some distance and got his free hand out, Animus was expecting a force blast, Animus thought he had this won. A Force Blast with his Shield up had never gotten through, Never! it took all of his focus to bring it up and it was a defense against force choke and such attacks however.... Tanuks Force Blast was unlike any attack that The Young Acolyte had ever seen.

Like a thin wall of Glass before a mallet the Shield Shattered, Animus Flew easily 20 feet and Landed scorching and hard. The attack made his eyes pop open just before he was sent flying in an Arc over Mighty Tanuk however the Fountain of the Dark Side that was the Togruta gave Animus an Adrenaline rush that initiated when his body landed on the Stone floor bouncing up backflipping to land on his feet.

Every single part of his body screamed at Animus to stop except his legs, they were more than eager to continue. Animus fully expected the Knight to follow up his attack so Animus while in the back flip summoned not one, not two but three Copies of himself. All beside him in a neat file line before Animus would come at the Togruta again with the Same Ferocity and Rage, the Darkside grew inside him in such a maelstrom of force driven by the desire to posses the great and bountiful well of fury that was, Tanuk. Animus made all the copies Zig Zag in front of him, and himself mix in between their dashes and zags before they all would come at the Knight from all Angles. Breathing in gasps Animus was physically tired, but the Dark side of the Force that emanated from Tanuk fed him like a parasite, to add to the insane attack method Animus took a page from the Acolyte he had previously defeated and from a strange and distant angle made a dagger fly directly for the Knight Knee Cap.

Mighty and Powerful Tanuk would find himself Surrounded by 4 Acolytes and an Illusion that made their attacks blurry and hard to predict.
"Come"
"Forth"
"Knight"
"Show us your True Power!!"
The Illusions were so flawless they spoke in Unison with no clear distinction of which was the real Animus, even the Hum of their lightsaber was identical. If the Knight could beat this attack back, Animus would not only be impressed, but he would also be out of tricks.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Darth Azurea"] [member="Animus Malgus"]

The Acolyte’s glass wall shattered before the power of Sith Sorcery. Matsu Xiangu and Sage Bane had taught him to harness that potential well. Yet Animus was fortunate enough to have brought up the shield. If not, he may very well had the very skin on his bones torn off. Had he been particularily unlucky, a limb might’ve disintegrated. Being flung against the wall wasn’t so bad. It certainly kept the Togruta entertained.

The Acolyte chose to listen to his legs before the rest of his body, and charged. Yet before he came upon the Knight with another assault, he revealed he was full of surprises. Illusions, dopplegangers… He appeared advanced indeed. While his fury and determination was great, he was tempting the Togruta, challenging him on his home field. How could he resist? It was time to play. His true power? No. Well. Perhaps a taste.

Towards the Togruta Knight darted four Animuses, accompanied by one flying dagger. In its response, Darth Pyrrhus of Shili shifted to one of the more taunting opening stances of Makashi, and clearly the most flawed. Standing straight, chest and centre facing Animus for once, he held his sword arm out to his side in a horizontal line, level to the height of his shoulder. Seemingly, he left himself entirely open. As the flying dagger made his way to him, it appeared, he truly was. The blade dug into his knee, sinking far into the Togruta’s skin. A gust of blood exploded from his leg.

Yet, there was no howling pain, or no other visible reaction from the Togruta. In fact, his position remained unmoved, even as the four Animuses came upon him, blades first. Now in the event only one was real, there was only one he had to worry about. Regardless, Pyrrhus didn’t seem to worry at all, as he took them all. The lightsabers carved him open, ripping tendons from flesh. There was no blood, though strangely enough, there was gas. A dark red cloud of smoke hissed out from every open wound, surrounding Animus and Pyrrhus within a bloody mist.

The Togruta’s neck tilted slightly to the side and his eyes bore themselves through to the very soul of Animus. Somehow, someway, he was staring directly at the real Animus. There was a very distinct insanity within the Togruta’s eyes, one previously unseen. Gone were the calm and restrained features, out came the wild beast of Shili. The Togruta hunter shrieked, loudly, in a near deafening tone. The sound wasn’t a howl of pain, but more like the war cry of some twisted creature that had crawled straight out of nether. Pyrrhus mouth opened wide, unnaturally wide. The Togruta’s jaw dislocated, with loud popping cracks of bones shifting place. The sight of his arsenal of teeth was viscous. His species were known for having a razor sharp set. The restructure of his dental signature allowed his mouth to grow open wide. Like some bendy serpent, he stretched over towards Animus, still with that infernal shriek, as he seemed to attempt to eat the Acolyte whole. Had he just revealed his true form? It was dinner time.

 

[Mythos]

Animus saw him stand in an Open stance of Makashi before him, it drove Animus insane, the very thought of being insulted and made an example of like a prominent fool, Animus was enraged. Watching as his knee slowly trickled blood but with no emotion, no sense of pain and agony, no buckle or whim of protest made Animus even more Furious. Is this why his master will not unleash his power? Because he is Unworthy? Because he is not fit to wear the mantle of Sith? It would not be for lack of Pride, and it would certainly not be for the lack of effort. Animus would rather Die than surrender, which is part of the reason he had to be beaten into a pulp by his Teacher the pain served him well. It also Gave him a great deal of Frustration. Animus was never satisfied with his performance, seeking perfection which was an Impossible task in anything. If you looked for Flaws like Animus did, you would allways find them

Suddenly however... The Togruta saw into the Real Animus, his eyes meeting with the Acolyte in a wild moment where time stood still. Suddenly Animus tilted his head in shock at what he was witnessing.... First a loud shriek in a deadly tone that broke the very barrier of tranquility there seemed to be in the room. Then The Master... Transformed into... a Monster? rows of sharp teeth, eyes with an Insanity none before seen except in the eyes of a Terentatek. Animus... was not about to back down. Animus screamed, his lightsaber held high as he charged the Beast's Mouth diving inside the massive Rows of Sharp fangs and Dove in with Fury and madness so powerful, the Force Shout went in front of him, however Animus did not notice and for some reason it was not as Powerful as the ones done before, perhaps it was the fact that he was moving while he was unleashing the rage. Animus unleashed all his might into True Fury and massive rage impacting every attack he would unleash upon the Monster than Pyrrhus had become. No fear of Death, just Bloodlust. If he died at the Hands of the Togruta he would die in a blazing clash of Glory and a Tidal wave of Hero's blood that would resound in the annals of history for eternity, this was it for him, a battle worthy of His might. He dove in, Blade in hand and blood in mind.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Darth Azurea"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Darth Azurea"] [member="Darth Mythos"]

In the face of the dark terror that was Darth Pyrrhus, Animus screamed. He was right to do so. His voice echoed through the Force, sending rippling waves of fury and anguish. This became the Acolyte’s song. Seemingly not bound by laws of physics, the Togruta’s jaw extended. He almost seemed to intend to eat the Force Shout whole.

The blast hit him head on, quite literally. With intense force, it blasted at his face, and tore a hole at the very back of his mouth. It expanded, growing rapidly, the tendons and nerves being quick to tear and become obliterated into nothingness. Then the Togruta’s head seemed to explode, flinging bits and pieces backwards, following the trajectory set by the Shout. The wall was painted red and pink, covered in bits of blood, flesh and brain. The blood bubbled, seemingly boiling, and it tore at the very atoms that held the wall together. It was carving its path through, like acid.

The headless Togruta toppled fowards. Like an aftershock, the rest of his body exploded. He gave up his corporeal form, becoming the air, becoming the room. At this close proximity, the blast would surely cover Animus in the very same bits and pieces of flesh and blood as the wall behind the former Togruta. His form scattered to every side, thick strands of Togruta meat latching itself to Animus like slugs. They would burn, with its acidic properties terrorizing his skin. The pain would be insufferable.

In the middle of the hopeless horror, there was a voice. It was…. Pyrrhus. “Become me, Animus. Melt together with me. Surrender your mind, and let me conquer your body” the wraith whispered. What was his end goal? What was his plot? To burn down the shape of what had once been Animus, and mold him in his image? To transfer his very essence and take control over the boy? Ideally, the pain kept his mind too occupied to ponder too hard on those thoughts.

When Animus had chosen to fight the beast, he had accepted it as reality. He had accepted the reality where Pyrrhus morphed before his eyes, and now attempted to consume him, giving power to the illusion. For it was an illusion, but trickery of the mind was Pyrrhus’ field of expertise. And the Togruta’s dark tendrils were seeping deep into the mind of the young Acolyte. Darth Pyrrhus, naturally, was observing from a distance.

 

[Mythos]

Animus watched in horror as the Mighty Frame of the Master exploded after it had become a monster and the bits and pieces of the Togruta were scattered throughout the room and latched onto his body. Then he felt the Acidic pain from his pieces as if they were compendiums og Acid.
Animus took off his robes as if they were on fire and began rolling on the ground intending to free the Pieces of Aciding Togruta out of his body.
This was madness! He killed the Master? What was going on!? It was Gore, blood and bits of pieces everywhere as the Headless togruta. The voice in his mind promised great power and the greatness of its master's Ability, In Animus' Mind Pyrrhus was dead and his essence was trying to latch onto his body.
The Intense agonizing pain in his body could not let him fight it off, so he did the only thing he could do...
He pulled out his lightsaber and screamed. "NEVER You Fishtank Making son of a Whore!"
The Lightsaber Plunged deeply into his stomach impaling himself, the Pain of the Self impalement brought him out of the Vision but into a state of catatonic shock. Slumping over he did indeed try to end his own life and would have succeeded had his self impalement been in a vital organ area and not between the ribs missing the lungs by inches. The Cauterization of the instant wond also helped him Not Die. He did not Die, but his body dumped in the floor was in desperate need of immediate Medical attention. He had become great with Makashi today... But at the cost of immeasurable pain and agony... he wouldn't be pissing off that Togruta for as long as he lived. He was inches from death.... the closest to death he had ever gotten... He is heartbeat was fading his vision growed weak as he laid upon bodies of blood. Violence and bloodshed both brought from this battle but War... is the Folly of Man.

Then... Something stirred inside him...
[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The Acolyte was quick to disrobe. While the acidic remains of the Togruta Sith were for the moment kept at bay, Animus would to his dismay discover that the imminent presence of pain and suffering was unavoidable. He had destroyed his corporal body, and Darth Pyrrhus was coming for him. Forfeiting the body, he sought to claim his soul. Or such was the charade he kept up. While Animus might have thought Pyrrhus dead, he was far from vanquished.

In absence of the burning pain, came the pressing weight of the presence of another attempting to invade and merge with his own. It was an illusion appealing to his senses, his mind, tricking it into believing it was under siege from the abstract. But for this, Animus had a solution. He showed that he would not collaborate. To him, it was success or death. Animus chose death, rather than subservience, when it came knocking on his door. His spirit was to be commended, although his body would likely complain, as his own crimson blade dug its way deep within himself. This was dedication. Or was it fear and desperation? Regardless, the Acolyte toppled over. Medical attention had been required even before, but now it was an absolute necessity, and time was unfortunately not on Animus' side. However, and luckily for him, Darth Pyrrhus did not seek to kill him.

The insult hurled at him was amusing, so much so that the Togruta's laugh echoed through the entire training room. No longer did it seemed bound by the laws imposed by his former physical form, but instead, echoed off the walls, coming from all sides. It'd be hard to determine whether it existed only in Animus' mind or the room itself. "You have chosen death instead. Very well." of course, he didn't intend to grant him death, but there was no need to inform him about that quite yet, was there?

Like a gust of wind, the dark red mist gathered, and the shapes of a tall Togruta seemed to almost materialize from the smoke. He didn't take any solid form, but the dark clouds clearly outlined his figure. "Sleep" his hand lifted, slowly, with the pace of someone who had transcended time and space. The Dark Side gathered, and became like a crushing weight pressing around and down upon the Acolyte dismissively. If all went according to plan, his vision would blacken, and Animus would fade from consciousness.

It was very likely that the Acolyte believed he was dying, especially considering that had been his intent as he had impaled himself on his own lightsaber. However, after he passed out, assuming he did so, medical attention would be his, and Pyrrhus would make sure that Animus found his way to a bacta tank. It was likely his stay in it would be a considerable one. The training session had been rough, but hopefully it had been equally educational.

[member="Darth Mythos"] [member="Darth Azurea"]