Private Bad Omens

[Rakaan Horne]

Rakaan could feel the heat of the blade near, with each small shift and crack in his defense had it seemed to burn his unarmoured skin. He sneered in the face of the beast as a result, the corner of his mouth turned to further the scowl and his brow furrowed with each uttered word. But no matter his resistance, he was soon to be cleaved in two as it continue to bear down on him.

Before his bellow, came the silent hiss of the burn. It seared the fabric of his cloth, and his eyes widened as his own skin crackled beneath the blade. His old friend called and teased at the corner of his mind, and without the faintest intention had Rakaan answered with a sudden detonation in the Force. Beside the pained yell had Rakaan sent out a shockwave in the Force - walls shook, the ground rumbled, and the roof of the old tunnel started to give way in what may have also sent Sephi hurtling off of Rakaan.

Darth Sephi

 

[Darth Sephi]

Just as the great saber began to burn flesh and Sephi could smell the heat of it, mouth watering at its fleshy scent, the Dark Side filled the area beneath his stomach and pushed. His distraction at the scent of meat gave an opening - and the opening was brutal. An instant bruise formed over his abdomen, the air knocked from his sith enhanced lungs, and his body flung against the collapsing roof - forcing bricks free and letting its full weight drop onto him.​

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A ton of material fell and buried him. He could feel its weigh, feel the lack of air he could pull into his lungs - a mixture of the collapsed roof now atop him, and the still straining diaphgram in his chest. He grit his teeth, pushed some from his gaze until he could break his head free. He fought now with the pile as his head was barely out of the rubble, struggling.​

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He sounded more like a chained animal now, straining, growling, barking. He was practically gnashing at the stones with his teeth - but still he persisted, on and on until he could free himself.​

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Rakaan Horne​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

He climbed to his feet, albeit it in more of a cumbersome clamber as overhead material had fallen around and on the two; himself, to a lesser extent, able to free himself from the mess he created with an unintended reaction. Had it been fear that caused it, he wondered, unsure and all too keen to silence the thought that rolled around in his mind.

But with his saber extended, standing over the caged beast that gnashed violently, Rakaan swung his pale blade like an executioner’s axe towards Darth Sephi’s neck after a moment of quiet deliberation and heavy breaths in order to collect his composure.

 

[Darth Sephi]

Sephi spoke to him in the idle walk towards his entrapment. It took all his energy to stop the ceiling from crushing him, to still hold breath - amd given a few more minutes he'd of freed himself with the sheer strength of his body; but without the force he simply needed to buy time.

"You're a tool to them. Just a Sith subservient to blind bastards.", he groaned and strained through fangs of yellowed ivory.

"Every step you take is weighed down by their chains of obedience, you'll never be free so long as you're their slave. Fight all you want, you'll never have a purpose as long as you're a dog."

He was straining through spit now, dribbling down his chin as Rakaan Horne closed the distance to him. When he was in range, he spit hard and focused towards his eyes - and the lightsaber he dropped launched backwards to stab through his stomach.

But no matter how it hit, the executioners blade would meet its mark, though unclean in its intent to sever. It landed deep in the neck then held as Sephis skin burned under its plasmatic authority, but stilled by his dark will to live. They strained against one another as the Saber refused to finish him.

"You'll be nothing. You'll always be nothing.", he said through the strain.

 

[Rakaan Horne]

His firm hold over the silence felt as if it started to loosen. His features broadened the scowl with the small utterance of each word, each sound, and the mere look on the face of the beast was all Rakaan needed to feel the ire continue on and on. He loathed himself whenever he touched that side of the Force he once ran from, he once felt so much shame because of, and for that, he hated the Sith all the more. Even if he hated himself for the hate he felt even more. The Darth was correct, for he was weak in this moment; weak to the outside influences, chained to the mantra he was told over and over, silenced because of a code.

Rakaan shook his head. He refused to think of that, but with an embittered slash, had Rakaan deflected the blade that soared towards him. Not to see, but to hear it as it skittered across the old stone. His white blade reached the neck of Sephi, and it went no further. Stuck, almost. Shock met his face, then, before the same scowl returned and it turned into an embittered, hateful look.

But no matter what, those words reached his core. He could not cast them aside, each one fell into his mind and refused to be evicted.

It was with a furious yell that Rakaan swiftly raised his saber over his shoulder and sent it towards the neck once more. But the action continued, repeated, over and over, it found itself back over the shoulder and sent down; with each move, his yell intensified and his aim became careless. To strike at the neck, the head, careless as to where as all the memories of his old Jedi friends resurfaced and all the memories of his failures came beside them.

Darth Sephi

 

[Darth Sephi]

In thar final moment, Sephi let out a cruel and mocking laughter as the blade was pulled back and struck again. The first, second, even the third time it would barely bite deeper - but as the swings grew more careless, as it grew to a flurry against a defenseless man - it became harder to stop.

Hair singed, his hand cut deep from trying to block the blade, and his face turned to a muddled mess of burn scars and gore. When he went limp there was nothing identifiable above the rock - only the mirror of violence churning in Rakaan Horne s mind. Surely he had won, but the reflection of his actions spoke to something much deeper.

As he'd turn, as he'd study what he had done - Sephis jaw would move, and in a hoarse whisper he'd hear him.

Slowly, bone exposed to air worked away and a tongue barely holding spoke pestilence into the air. The Sith Code, repeated low and heavy, growled behind mawled flesh.

"... will set me free..."

And then silence.

Rakaan Horne