Cracking Skulls and Being Educated (Open to a Trainer/Master)

[Kelon Amadis]

Bruising his way through the temple grounds, one opponent at a time.

Kelon was anything but subtle, worse than any of his namesake by a wide margin. He’d just beaten one of the apprentices half to death. Limbering up for another round, the large zeltrix, half epicanthx, half zeltron was just getting warmed up. Whelps, all of them. Kelon clicked his neck side to side, balling his fists together and smashing one into his palm.

Little did he know these were just first week acolytes, he’d not come up against anyone of any real worth, but his arrogant and cocky attitude was all too common these days, and was earning him a reputation, not the good kind. He threw his weight around and anyone smaller than him got knocked the hell out. To be fair it wasn’t the worst reputation to have, till you met the wrong person, one of the Masters might even find it useful, till he outlived his usefulness.

6ft 6 black long hair, red skin like a zeltron but paler like an Epicanthx, he was wearing a stud encrusted black and silver vest, trousers, and had a saber by his side, but he’d never used it, or any force ability for that matter. He was hurling some sort of balled telekinetic push, but so far he was just getting frustrated that it wasn’t actually working, and was likely to go back and crack some more skulls instead.

“What are you looking at?”

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

It’d been quite a long time since she’d walked through the Temple with no purpose in mind other than seeing what there was to see. The last time she’d stumbled across the woman now known as Darth Venefica – a first week acolyte then, now a Sith Lord. It was point of pride for Matsu to push and shove a being through the ranks, to abuse them in to greatness. She took all kinds: those seeking the mentalism and sorcery in which she displayed her greatest talent and those looking to excel in more physical aspects of the Force. The latter she took as personal warriors, men and women that would surround her in battle and let her work her spells uninhibited.

She came across an acolyte – badly beaten, trying to suck air through a mouth and nose full of blood – and reached out to pull the memories of the last ten minutes from his head. A much larger man, near-human. Reddish skin, dark hair. Angry. Very angry. She relished his pain for the seconds it took to learn what she wanted before moving on, carving a path through the half-silence of the temple. Finding the same acolyte that had bullied his way through the grounds wasn’t hard – his frustration was choking, thick in the air of the room he was in and those around him. She was particularly sensitive to thought and feeling, having dedicated her life to sense and mental waves.

He was even bigger than the memory she’d stolen suggested. His anger made him seem even larger.

Matsu would look like a child to him. A full foot and half shorter and nearly a hundred pounds lighter, she was a svelte figure in a dark bodysuit watching him try to form something from the telekinesis he clearly understood but couldn’t seem to figure out how to manipulate. He seemed to notice her then however, a snappy retort that didn't faze the Lady. “It helps to direct your anger, focus your passion instead of letting it explode in all directions. To do otherwise is a waste,” she offered, her voice like sea-glass, smooth and gentle.

She looked and sounded the exact opposite of everything she truly was.

[member="Kelon Amadis"]​

 

[Kelon Amadis]

“A waste?” The half breed Zeltrix raised his chin, looking down at the smaller woman. “What’s the difference when they are down there, and I’m up here?” Headstrong yep, cocky attitude pulling his hands to rest on his belt. He seemed to think physical strength was everything. “I get angry, they drop.” Kelon cracked his neck again for emphasis. Maybe one day he’d live up to his attitude, but with Matsu hiding her true strength, right now he had no idea just who he was talking to!

He threw out another attempt at a tk attack, and it fizzled, so he thumped a wall instead. Rage did grow him, the Sith Lord was astute, it made him appear even bigger, heavier and stronger than he was, the potential for natural force illusions to be trained. Silver ringed knuckles took out a bite of the stone and absorbed most of the impact, but he still cut his hand. The act also showed everyone how much he had to learn, controlling the rage, and his technique.

“Alright, how do you do it?” He looked more at a level to the smaller Sith, frustrated with himself, and shaking his cut knuckle. “Show me,” he demanded.

Maybe first he needed to learn some respect?

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Physical strength had its place in the world, equally as important as less hands-on application of the Force and the body. Although she subscribed mainly to the latter, she was a proponent of the former as well. She had seen her partner Reverance do incredible things with sheer will and physical skill – there was no denying its potential.

She did not fraternize with the weak though she recognized their usefulness as cogs in the great Sith machine, disposable power banks to exploit. The one before her had the potential to be great if he could shed the excess that held him back. Attitude didn’t bother her. She was confident in herself and confidence in others was a trait she admired, a quality that also translated to abrasiveness in many of her counterparts. But this one hadn’t earned the right to behave as such, and she would never accept demands.

The acolyte would see nothing as Matsu did not need to move a muscle to express her connection to the Force. It was all in her head, a mentalist’s spark. Pain – crippling, transcendent, unbearable pain – pressed from her mind to the man’s, an ice pick through brain hemispheres, the peeling apart of lobes in lotus bloom, the flower of death, a string along a river once sacred now tainted by her intrusion. It was the simplest, easiest of messages. But one any creature could understand. When she stopped pressing a sledgehammer of her prowess towards him, she tilted her head, displaying a reptilian blink of study.

“I will show you. But I will not be commanded.”

[member="Kelon Amadis"]​

 

[Kelon Amadis]

Kelon was wracked with extreme pain across his mind, piercing like ice, the big man held his head, taking a step back. Her fine control was excruciating, did he sink to his knee’s, no he could have easily, if a wall wasn’t handy, which he rested a thick arm against, trying to shake it off. On the surface of his skin, it started to blur, duplicate but not come away, trying to provide a small level of protection.

Force Doppleganger, Similfuturus

The dopplegangers were not long lived, and they only extended just off his skin, not strong enough to break away, like shifting blurs. Each one would be an exact match for him, right now they were poor imitations, trying to get him away from the pain and put the doppleganger in his place, but the pain and fine control of a Matsu itself stopped it from coming free.

Pain was nature’s way of telling you were alive, only he’d prefer it was someone else’s pain! “No arguments here.” Big man was humbled, like hell, but she did take the edge off his attitude, and he backed off looking at her very differently now.

That was impressive, no two ways about it. "What do I need to do?"

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

Force Doppleganger

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu didn’t mind admitting that without the Force she would be crushed by a man of this acolyte’s size. She was small and delicate, made for the long-range combat she’d come to perfect through illusion, magic, and telekinesis. She was a fair hand with knifes and deadly with the armor-piercing claws hidden within her prosthetic limbs. With lightsabers she could defend herself but little else. She was saved by her grace and athleticism, but without preternatural instinct afforded to her by her Sith status, she would never have been a fighter.

A blessing then, to be touched by the dark side. She craved blood and death.

The separate images of him bending backwards, spines pushed almost to breaking as they attempted to leave him but trapped by her grasp, were surprising. She assumed it was a manifestation of power brought on by the exquisite pain, something he wasn’t entirely conscious of controlling but could be capable of in the future. Intriguing.

She watched carefully when she cut off her power. She hated weakness and to see him cowering like a dog would have her walking away in disgust. A sadist, she was inherently cruel, but not indiscriminately.

He seemed, however, to pay deference without tucking his tail between his legs. Good.

Pushing off the wall, she moved closer, tilting her head in consideration of his question. “You asked what the difference is when you’re up there, and they are down here. Passion gives us power, and most assume the Sith are constantly at war with themselves.” She paused, circling him, hands held behind her back. “But imagine for a moment, that there are hundreds coming for you. You can get angry and force your abilities to come out the way you want, but it will exhaust you. You will have nothing left and they will devour you. Or…you can concentrate your power, let it fester and take shape, enjoy the violence. If you learn to direct your rage without fighting it you will destroy entire planets in an hour, every jaw crushed and every life taken giving you power. But you must sip instead of guzzling.”

Lifting a hand, she drew an illusion in front of him – this was Sith Magic, so the man that came to life in front of the pair appeared every bit as real as either of them. The only difference was he would disappear instead of dying if the acolyte could destroy him.

“Try again. And this time, sink in to your rage instead of trying to control it.” He had the basic understanding as evidenced by his ability to form a telekinetic ball – he just needed the follow-through.

[member="Kelon Amadis"]​

 

[Kelon Amadis]

Listening and crossing his meaty arms as she spoke. The halfbreen Zeltrix cocked his head, and stroked his goatee, scratching the chin was a trait the Amadis shared when in thought. Even so Kelon wasn’t a thinker by any stretch, even less so than his brothers, he was a doer, but he heard her loud and clear. The big guy got what she was saying, don’t tire yourself out, but he already enjoyed the violence so no problem there, passing on pain was a hobby of his.

He had to learn to do it without fighting to control it.

Head following her as she circled around him. Passion, she was speaking his language, he was half zeltron, that fire was in him all day every day, and would be so easy for Matsu to push, manipulate, or to stoke, unknown to him it was the cause of his force illusions spilling out. Whether that passion be crushing heads, ripping someone apart or finding entertainment at one of the many pleasure palaces of his preferred homeworld, it was all the same to the Zeltrix.

Regarding the Sith magic with an impressed nod of his head, Kelon clicked his neck and cracked his hands together, “yeah, no problem,” tsssst he clicked his tongue. The frustration of his earlier failures came up, and rather than try to put his rage into his hand, he let them come. Energy came up the muscles, the veins in the force you’d see a red sliver of rage to his aura. Eyes flaring as the ball of force expelled out of his hand, cracking the illusion right in the chest. He wasn’t fury incarnate like [member="Kylath Amadis"] might be, but he had it, he liked the violence, and the grin he had showed that clearly. It was a start anyway, a small first step for what Kelon might be by the time she’d finished with him.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]​