Castle of Glass

[Voices of The Deep]

Ice cold optics remained steady and diligent as thoughts of The Awoken remained on her thoughts...it had been several months since she had come into contact with them...and given her recent escape from that prison colony she now needed to find a way to the other side of the Outer Rim to get back to them. This...was just a short stop.

And as the woman wandered the desolated barren surface of Korriban those blue eyes scanned the ancient ruins of the Valley of Dark Lords with little more than amusement...dark energy pulsed and the force seemed to whisper through the very air. It amused the woman how such a force of raw power and importance to the Sith could fall and become nothing more but an abandoned wasteland...it was...saddening in a way. If sadness was an emotion the Ice Queen could feel...either way, the Silver Sanctum had done a rather masterful job of restoring the desolated Valley of Dark Lords...and while it was still a ruin, certain energies of the light side could be felt because of the enclave they had established. She had heard rumors of their Dominion of the planet. And while she did not care for the faction...or any faction. She respected their strength and resolve. And her being here was not an intention to seek hostilities...in fact, somewhere within the conscious of the woman. She rather enjoyed seeing them progress and had no desire to cause problems with them.

Still...she was here to seek something that had been lost...and she only hoped no one stood in her way. She did not want holocrons...ancient artifacts, or even power. She desired the truth...and no one would keep it from her. She respected the claims the Silver Sanctum made...and she would not seek what was rightfully theirs.

With that said...she would see if they felt the same.


[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

For weeks Jericho found himself on the home planet of the sith, a place he trained daily at in his youth to combat darkness within himself and dueled a great many sith. After having his youth restored at least physically, a sense of excitement was restored and his control over his emotions once again imbalanced. The warrior traveled to the Valley of Dark Lords, place where the old tombs were somewhat restored and though his body was young again his skills in the force remained keen. He had felt a powerful and dark presence in one of the old tombs and decide to investigate it on his own without calling it in to the sanctum, a rash move made by the council member. It was rare for Jericho to act as reckless as he did but he felt as if he was compelled to. He was always so cautious and for good reason but due to recent events he found himself charging more often than not. In this recklessness the warrior went to the assistance of an old spirit, foolishly believing it was an old master of light, he battle though a great many traps and trials of the mind. After weeks of his Jericho found himself exhausted, his mind barrier weaken and that his when the spirit pounced. The spirit felt the presence of another being, almost familiar, to control it's new body. It tapped into the warriors darkest secrets, desires and weaknesses. It cast the illusion over an illusion his mind while the warriors body was controlled by the spirit.

"Are you nervous?" Jericho asked. He stood up straight, towering over a little girl. The girl looked up at him and cowered with fear. “Are you going to hurt me as well?” The little girl asked. Jericho’s lips creased upward and turned into a wide but hearty smile, full of assurance and encouragement. “I don’t find you guilty..you will live to spread the word of my mercy and punishment.” Behind them lay a village full of death; the building where in shambles and corpses littered the ground, like flowers. A battlefield, a second home to the warrior. "Th—thank you, master!" The child muttered. She reached out for his leg and hugged him. Jericho patted the little girl on the head as she did. “I was merely passing through, don’t thank me. Sadly I was not able to arrive sooner." He calmly stated as he collected himself. He tilted his head back to see all of the dead villagers and bandits. “You better go look for survivors.” That said, as he walked off in the opposite direction, but then little girl tugged at the warriors robed and pointed at a dark being. "Another one!" She called out and Jericho instantly leap to her defense.

To the eyes of [member="Queen Sovereign"] , she would see the warrior clad in his heavy armor and white robes covered from head to toe with noticeable signs of battle. His mask partly broken but able to still cover the the majority of his face. His eyes glazed over and filled with darkness. The spirit was desperate, he had finally was able to get rid of everything that held him back, he felt the rage of the warrior was going to use it against this new being and without a word, he charged at the woman aiming a wide and heavy hay maker at her jaw.

 

[Voices of The Deep]

The Azure Queen found herself rather lost in the haze of memories that threatened to consume her. The memories...endlessly spinning in the back of her mind. It seemed they had no true intention of forgiving the blue skinned woman. And as those bright icy colored eyes flicked and wandered upon the valley floor. And it seemed she had company...a presence making its way towards the snowy haired woman. Her vibrant gaze lifted and landed upon him from a curved glance long before he spotted her...The Ice Queen was narrowed her eyes...the village behind him seemed to stink of death and sickness...but Winter could not bring herself to really care...and when the man spotted her and quickly made his way towards her Winter merely frowned in disinterest.


If he truly intended to disturb her...so be it.


She smoldered like tired embers lazily falling from a fire...if ice could burn you...then she would. Born from darkness and eventually to die in darkness, but not before the consumption of all before her. Dull and dirty but still burning and if you touched, you'd get hurt. Winter knew hurt and embraced it and she wouldn't care if the whole damn planet froze over.


Observing the brutish mass, pounding this way, freight train of toothed mass, Winter remained motionless and frowning. She gazed at him, lacking the reverence she may or may not of had considering he was a stranger and she was new to these lands...fresh blood to the cauldron, but maintaining the respect given towards any dangerous weapon: handle with care. Wielders get hurt too, but only if they make a mistake.


Winter did not make mistakes.


Here was a great contrast: the huge and bulking, uncontrolled and messy, everything a blur of uncontained and raw strength. He was a dull mass, ready to engulf like a great burning flame feeding on not the blood but the joy of releasing the blood.Winter...whose every piece was sharp and edged and clean, every motion controlled and every fur sleek. She was every inch springy and cutting and small and thin, razor wire.


The distance was closed...the man getting closer...


Not tensed, but neither relaxed, the woman on legs ready to dart like pistons at a moment's falling. Winter knew she could be matched, but she wasn't about to be dominated. While she had never been prideful, it was obvious that she had found her confidence, that she knew what she could do. She knew what she could not do...and at the moment she would observe what this...stranger could do. From his size alone she knew that she was capable of causing him great harm. But she had no fear.


She did not know why this man wanted so badly to dominate her... There was no need, no point. She was no keen sword, no, she was a landmine, indiscriminate, equally prepared to destroy her creator as her most hated enemy. This man... he know grasping at a time bomb was not wise when you can't see the clock. So she remained, prepared for whatever would unravel from the chaotic coils of the universe's dark maw, whatever was to be released into the system. Winter approached chaos with lips tilted and words and movements liquid. And the second the mans arm winded back to launch a sloppy strike, Winter would simply stand...and the second he got close she would focus the power of the force into her legs.

Just as the mans fist came within a inch of her face...she would be gone, using her speed to move herself to the side of the man as his strike went through smoke...the momentum he gathered to get there so fast was still to strong for him to simply stop and change direction...and with that in mind, she moved her foot outward and attempted to trip the man so he would at least stumble...perhaps crash to the ground like a race car going to fast and losing its tires.

Winter was not all powerful...but she was intelligent, and she knew how this game worked...she did not need fancy powers or weapons to win this...and since this man used only his fist...she would do the same.


[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

The spirit rushed with his new body, it didn't want to lose this body it had spent too much time devising tricks to fool this the mind and steal this rage-ridden body. As he charged with his reckless and wide haymaker, he closed into her jaw. "Yesss....." His voice whispered with delight thinking that this would be an easy win for it. A lowly woman facing off with such a monster size brute of a body like this? It would be the easiest of takedown and it would be out of this miserable planet. As the fist nearly connected with her face, the spirit, found itself flying past where the woman was. "What....?" The spirit questioned and he felt the light touch of her foot over his ankle and flew into the wall and smashing the earth. As he stood from the crumbling spot he laid out he turned and face over to the woman. "Such speed..." The wick voice echoed through the wretched air. To think at the blink of an eye, she was about to dodge a surprise attack. Maybe muscle memory or keen senses? Or it was just because it was getting used to the body and was just loud and clunky. It stood tall and cracked its neck and the fingered that were still human, his eyes bloodshot from the possession. He raised his hands and waved her over for the fight.

[member="Queen Sovereign"]

Spoiler

sorry for the weak post. next one will give you more to work with.

 

[Voices of The Deep]

Crystallized blue eyes remained focused on the large hulking mass that had crashed into the rubble...her gaze steady as she slowly walked circles around her assaulter...hands up in a common boxing stance as her hands remained balled tightly into fist made of diamond. Watching closely as she wheezed and groaned on the ground from when she had tripped him...frankly she was not expecting such a counter to work but it seemed to do what it was meant to...and as the man commented on Winters speed she merely scoffed, shrugging a bit and twisting her neck, feeling her cold bones crack and pop from stiffness.

He didn't see anything yet...and as he forced himself to his feet and also lifted his hands for battle his wave to meet him was not met with hesitation...The Queen moved forward, pulling one hand all the way by her face and extending her fist all the way out before her...horizontal, as is striving to meet his. A fist bump if you will...Winter reveled in the opportunity to physically challenge herself. If he reached out and touched her fist with his own, it should only show her that the two of them accepted one another as opponents and respected that...

If he'd touch her fist, she'd give a nod and limber up...staying steady, she'd quickly crank her arm back as if she were going to throw a haymaker just as wild and sloppy as his own...throwing her fist forward in a hooking sweeping motion to the left. This strike was not designed to make contact...nor was it meant too miss...it was meant to distract.

There was a chance she'd take this sloppy strike as incompetence...as a mistake. And thus take the opening she had left for him as her fist swept by him and she leaned downward as if the force of the strike forced her to stumble forward...

Little did he know...

Winter did not make mistakes.

That strike was the beginning of a much larger plan. With her body tilted forward and her fist nearly touching the ground, she looked almost as if she were a baseball pitcher who had just thrown a heater...one leg stiff into the dirt and the other lifted up and bent at an angle similar to a boomerang. The punch was designed to throw her body into a position of increasing momentum while simultaneously looking vulnerable.

Not more than a split second later, Winter would make her true move...taking the leg that was in the air behind her she used the momentum gathered by the powerful punch and threw herself into the air and flipping her legs in a horizontal spin kick. The frame of her boots aimed to strike him on the side of his temple...if this was blocked, she would then land on her other leg and continue to spin and keep the momentum, but this time lowering herself to the ground and throwing her leg outward to sweep his feet from under him. If he also blocked or dodged this, she would spin once again and rise to her feet like a spinning top...this time launching her arm back and throwing a leg out to stop her spinning, and as her final strike if all others failed was to launch a devastating punch square into his chest with enough force to put him on his ass. If he dodged all three of her attempted strikes then he would indeed be quite formidable. But no one was untouchable...not even The Queen.


[member="Jericho"]


OOC: You're good. I get carried away with my writing anyway LOL. Here have another meaty and flowery post xD

 

[Jericho]

oops

 

[Jericho]

The spirit the controlled Jericho was confused at her motion as she reached out her hand as if expecting something. He did not know what she meant by and merely stayed with his hands up. Was she mocking it? Showing that she had the superior body? How dare she? The spirit had the body that towered almost a foot over her with the weight of a beast to back up any bark that was to be made. The man lowered his hands for a moment about to speak, attempting to taunt her as he felt like she tried to do. But without a word to be made, the blue-eyed mistress charged at him with a wide haymaker and bashed his jaw. The spirit let out a grunt when saw an opening and attempted to lash out but the woman was too fast and followed with a combination that, though he saw, could not keep up leaving the spirit awestruck and in shock. Her heel connected with his temple leaving his body vulnerable and dazed as she followed through with a sweep of his front leg that knocked him off center. The spirit was dazed as it fought to keep control of the body as well as fight the woman, a mistake made by the spirit. For a moment, the body remained down from her attack as the spirit was losing control over the warrior mind. "Noooo...." The spirit wept as he began to succumb to Jericho's control. "All my work...Undone...So easily..." It moaned and whispered as the body fell back into the control of the warrior.

Jericho awoke slowly from illusion cast by the spirit and out of muscle memory, reacted accordingly to the incoming strike made by the blue-eyed woman and with his left cybernetic hand caught her hand and slammed down his front foot into the ground to regain his center. As he was fighting a battle within his own mind and saw only what the illusion had cast for him to see, this woman was new to him. The energy and smell that oozed from the woman screamed of Dathomir. Jericho was all too familiar with her kind, but what brought her all way to Korriban? Aside from that, he had to assume that the spirit made them engage in such a fight and since Jericho had regained his senses, the woman had won without a doubt in his mind. Telling from the constant throbbing of his head and the power that was backed from her punch, the warrior could tell that she was skilled in hand to hand combat. Despite the circumstance of their meeting, this was interesting and he found himself wanting to continue this bout whether or not she knew he was possessed or not, wanted her to continue to fight as viciously as she did. This was most likely due his recent regaining of his youth and excitement. The warrior gripped her hand tightly before skipping back a few feet to quickly analyze her from head to toe.

The woman stood at least half a foot shorter than him and despite her seemingly petite size, she had packed quite a bit of power. With her size range, Jericho had to assume she was acrobatic and nimble; more than likely would use that to the fullest ability. He could overwhelm her with his own strength and speed as the tomb left little room for her to really move around. Environment wise Jericho had the advantage as he was not your typical giant. The warrior took in a deep breath and lightly rubbed his temple before getting into his stance, taking a little more time to let his body heal then readying himself for the bout. With another controlled breath, he charged at her with a flying knee in hopes for her to drop a hand but used mainly as a distraction using his back leg to propel himself faster switch into a superman punch, purposely leaving himself open to an attack, if she were to take attack he would use his defending hand to ribose her attack and switch to a grapple and wrap around her waist following slamming her down to the ground. Assuming she remains fighting hand to hand.

[member="Queen Sovereign"]