D O M I N U S
M A N H U N T
Tag: Darth Miseria
Were these different times, he would have told her the stories.
As his little Dianah continued to walk the midnight path, her choices and tendencies reflected that of the mother she hardly knew. The Gray Goddess he once called her - a Sith who had been encased in carbonite for centuries. It was by pure happenstance that her Darkness radiated outside of her prison. Pure happenstance that it had caused a cult following on a distant world - and that Darth Metus had been sent to investigate. What followed was her release - and one of the greatest loves of the Sith's life. Though temporary. The bond long since severed, what Darth Metus had to remember her by were the children they had brought into the world.
And Darth Miseria was becoming every bit of her mother. Little did she know.
In the present, his Wrath was focused not upon the past - but upon those who had added difficulty to his daily life. Such folly would have to be answered. Thus, his voice had seethed against the Guards within the Palace. He demanded to know where their liege hid. And the response was the raising of blasters defensively. They did not know that he was coming. Some were ignorant and did not recognize the Vicelord when his face was covered. Such was their undoing. He raised not a hand, but simply tensed a finger. The Force was his weapon. The barrels of their weapons caved in on themselves. Shock caused many of the guards to drop their rifles immediately, opting to hastily reach for their sidearms.
The Sith chose one and dragged him forward by the Force. The seedy Human's visage came within mere inches of Darth Metus' mask. "You will be me to him. Now." Came his command. There was no threat. There was no or else. Those present had entered into a silent contract with the Sith Lord. Their lives hung in the balance. His whim could be their undoing. A hasty nod was given by the guard, followed by the flailing of his arms - signaling his peers to lower their weapons. "I'll take you! Please!" His finger eased. The man's feet returned to the ground. Shaking, the guard motioned for them to follow and led the way forward.
And as they advanced, Miseria would feel her sire's presence in her mind. The rumble of his wrathful voice echoing as if it belonged. That face...It looks like your mother.
As his little Dianah continued to walk the midnight path, her choices and tendencies reflected that of the mother she hardly knew. The Gray Goddess he once called her - a Sith who had been encased in carbonite for centuries. It was by pure happenstance that her Darkness radiated outside of her prison. Pure happenstance that it had caused a cult following on a distant world - and that Darth Metus had been sent to investigate. What followed was her release - and one of the greatest loves of the Sith's life. Though temporary. The bond long since severed, what Darth Metus had to remember her by were the children they had brought into the world.
And Darth Miseria was becoming every bit of her mother. Little did she know.
In the present, his Wrath was focused not upon the past - but upon those who had added difficulty to his daily life. Such folly would have to be answered. Thus, his voice had seethed against the Guards within the Palace. He demanded to know where their liege hid. And the response was the raising of blasters defensively. They did not know that he was coming. Some were ignorant and did not recognize the Vicelord when his face was covered. Such was their undoing. He raised not a hand, but simply tensed a finger. The Force was his weapon. The barrels of their weapons caved in on themselves. Shock caused many of the guards to drop their rifles immediately, opting to hastily reach for their sidearms.
The Sith chose one and dragged him forward by the Force. The seedy Human's visage came within mere inches of Darth Metus' mask. "You will be me to him. Now." Came his command. There was no threat. There was no or else. Those present had entered into a silent contract with the Sith Lord. Their lives hung in the balance. His whim could be their undoing. A hasty nod was given by the guard, followed by the flailing of his arms - signaling his peers to lower their weapons. "I'll take you! Please!" His finger eased. The man's feet returned to the ground. Shaking, the guard motioned for them to follow and led the way forward.
And as they advanced, Miseria would feel her sire's presence in her mind. The rumble of his wrathful voice echoing as if it belonged. That face...It looks like your mother.