The Amalgam
Darth Phyre II
OOC: Takes place after The Fall of Laertia Io but before that thread on the Sith yacht where The Parliament tried to kill The Worm Emperor in a fir of narcissistic mania.
"But it should've been perfect. I mean, he had me, Nicky Santoro, his best friend watching his @#$. And he had Ginger, the woman he loved on his arm. But in the end...we &$#@+& it all up. It should have been so sweet, too. But it turned out to be the last time that street guys like us were ever given anything that &+$#@+) valuable again."
--Darth Strelok, quoting Joe Pesci in a fit of madness and prophecy
Aboard The Leviathan of Danuta...
The strike had been as sudden as it was vicious, the Model 1 Commando units arriving with a crack team of Brain Demon Sorceresses.
Xiphos had given the Neutralizers permission to kill Themis' underlings to a certain extent, but not Themis herself. The ship was in the grip of her powerful battle cruiser tractor beam, so it couldn't flee. Arianna had convinced her to spare them. And because Xiphos was all about family, she had acquiesced to Arianna this one final time out of Arianna's unwavering loyalty.
(Cutaway of J. Jonah Jameson laughing uncontrollably)
It was inevitable
Darth Themis
would surrender as every future where she didn't ended in the execution of her and everyone else left alive.
Themis had been dragged before Xiphos on the bridge of the Leviathan of Danuta.
"I was willing to overlook a lot of things..." said Xiphos, shrouded in the darkness of the bridge before a Darth Themis forced to her knees by Model 1's sticking shotguns in her face.
"The fact you failed my parents. That your prophecy of their deaths was entirely self fulfilling. That you left me flawed, defective guardians that either died or abandoned me or had to be shoved into the brain of someone else to function properly once more. That the speech impediment was not a side effect, but on purpose, designed to prevent me from gaining the self confidence necessary to be my own person later in life. The perfect tool you could mold once my parents were out of the way. But it didn't work out like you expected. So you...you got desperate..."
Themis heard Laertia's boots moving across the deck of the futuristic bridge.
"I didn't manipulate your parents into getting themselves killed..." Themis said.
"Bullchit." said the voice in the dark. "You were the first to announce it. The first to come up with the idea of sending guardians to protect me. And how convenient, how utterly convenient that one of them would just so happen to look like you and have naturally addictive hyper-pheremones! I was all set to trust that face when it showed up with Alyosha on Atrisia! You literally couldn't have planned it better."
"That's not what happened. Your parents were going to die. I didn't make a self fulfilling prophecy! That's what the Force told me AND them!" Themis protested. "If I did manipulate you, it was only to try and get you away from the Cult that murdered your family!"
"Well, Reality had other plans..."
"Not reality!" Themis snapped "No! This has nothing to do with reality at all, and everything to do with your wounded pride towards the Galaxy! You never stopped fighting the Bryn'adul Wars even after they were over!" Themis said. "You've been clinging to your hatreds for over ten years, Julia! TEN YEARS! The Cult is just the only one willing to validate you. So you listen to them instead of the people who loved you because we were telling you the truth, and you didn't like that. But we stuck by, partly because we had nowhere to go, but MOSTLY because we all kept hoping, deep down, that you would come back to sanity and finally reject them the way your own children have begged you to!"
Themis actually started crying.
"You think we liked watching you dishonor your entire family by taking their killers into your bed? By lusting after your own corrupted master and the woman who butchered your grandparents, you sick feth? Many times we laid out alternatives but you didn't listen. Because it wasn't the Bryn'adul you were really angry at. It was the Jedi and everyone who rejected working with murdering filth like The Amalgam to justify your desperation to be with her. And you hate them so much because deep down, you are insecure as all get out over the choices you made to get here, so you lash out like a child with petty online stunts involving the death of your opponents. If your mother and father could see you now, they would no doubt ask to die again!" Themis spat finally in contempt, her disgust and disappointment at her god-daughter finally tumbling out. "You're destroying the mental health of your own society. They will tear away from you when the Cult's evil is finally up close and personal, when people hide in their homes from the Cult's evil!"
"My people have come to understand the value of strength..." Xiphos replied, stepping into view, face pale, skin clammy, eyes a hate filled sulphur.
"It's funny...in spite of your myriad treacheries and deceptions, I was willing to overlook all of that, simply because I loved your guardians, even knowing what they were, and why they were that way. Yet if I had not been exposed to such strange creations, I might not have been so able to accept the Cult, or love Amy. Or Elaine..."
"But I do not overlook you blatantly kidnapping her. I'll spare the serpents because Arianna asks, but the only reason you aren't dead is because you didn't destroy her..." Xiphos snarled, holding up the red saber crystal that had The Battalions spirit.
"It was a mistake to take her from you. I see that now..." Themis admitted. "Because with her, or without her, you eventually embraced the Cult, because that is who you are really married to."
Themis looked up at her greatest failure.
"I pity you. I pity your people more though, when they get a look at the real you. After you have removed every last guard rail and voice of reason to kill for its own sake. I weep on the inside for what is coming. To know that it will all be torn apart, everything you've built, by your own cruelty and madness. I shall always weep because I now understand the most terrible truth of all, Laertia...and that terrible truth is that the Force would have been better served sending your father into the future instead of you."
Tears of glowing green blood fell down her face.
"Did you never wonder why it was Phyre...Syd... whatever the hell she is calling herself these days... didn't you ever ask yourself just why every version of her was obsessed with you? And not him?"
"ENOUGH!" Xiphos roared. "I banish you to house arrest on a capital ship to be determined at a later date! TAKE HER AWAY!"
Themis was brutally hauled off. Xiphos got her panic attack under control before heading to the private ritual chamber in her quarters where a pool of white Cultist blood rested in a pit.
Focusing the Dark Side, Xiphos guided the stolen spirit to the lake of pale blood, which glowed violently red, thrashing about as the spirit started manipulating the corrupted blood to forge a new body, until with a sudden, hideous pulse the blood vanished and in its place rose a bubbling, sloughing body that reset into the figure and mind of
The Battalion
, who opened her eyes and Xiphos had teleported into her waiting grasp, running her hands through her lover's hair, a deep kiss planted on freshly recreated lips.
"Honey...so good of you to show..." The Battalion flirted. "Thought I was gonna have to resort to dialing a collect call from hell..."
Then she stopped, her mouth dropping open as she finally sensed the change, saw the eyes.
A delighted squeal escaped The Battalion's throat as she clasped Xiphos' face, glee and joy crossing her face.
"You TURNED!" The Battalion said in almost disbelief...
"Yes, I know. After you get dressed, we'll call Percival here. We are going to Dantooine...where it all started..."
"Of course..." The Battalion said slyly, snapping her fingers as all the lights flickered out.
"After we get dressed..."
Xiphos giggled in the darkness...
One hour later...
Xiphos awaited at the bridge with The Battalion, in her all white catsuit. She had been informed of the changes. She was worried about Percival and Galahad's mental state in particular. She loved both, in her own way. She was sad to see them fragment even slightly.
They were finally going to kill Amy. And Percival and
Alessandra Io
would have first class tickets to the execution. Xiphos loved Amy, but it was time. Xiphos owed Percival, owed Maple, owed Nine, owed herself, and even, ironically enough, owed The Marksmen, that band of Jedi Shadows she had once been part of, this last hurrah. This final...gesture. The closest Xiphos would ever get to a full apology to anyone for all the stuff she had done for the past decade. The closest she might ever get to passing real judgment on herself.
Today was not just a reckoning upon Amy, but upon Laertia Io herself. About the very concept of Laertia Io as a person.
Because today was the day Laertia Io was going to die....
Meanwhile...
The Amalgam meditated patiently on the very spot where Laertia's parents had been violently dismembered. It was morning. A perfect morning.
A perfect morning to finally die.
She had made her peace with that fact. Spent the morning going through albums of photos. Smiled at the memories of the days she had spent with Percival whenever he remembered she was his mother. She knew he would be coming to help kill her. She was happy with that. She wanted him to have that closure. Her final gift to him.
Within his lover, The Deluge, lay the secret to opening the realm of The Brain Demon. She wished she could have told him, but she had sensed he would join her in death eventually. She had cried about that when she realized it. It was one of the few times she ever felt actual remorse. Being forced to convert her own son's lover had been the straw that had finally broken her loyal back in regards to the Brain Demon.
Amy was finally done with it all herself. The Darth Phyre inside her was done also. Her violent delights would at last meet violent ends. (Quoth the bard: 90 XP)
All that was left was to have the last, most exciting duel of her life.
She had sent
Percival Io
one simple message she knew he would ignore over e-mail:
I wish it had been anyone else but Rebecca. But I couldn't disobey.
That, she felt, succinctly communicated her thoughts on the matter. If he ever did read that message, which even by her own admission was unlikely, then maybe...just maybe...he and he alone might finally know, in private, that The Amalgam really hadn't wanted to go through with it. Not that it mattered. She still had, and with her usual hamminess in the process. But inside she had known what that final act of cruelty would cost her...it would cost her a place in the world she helped Xiphos forge.
Other than that will she had entrusted to the Deluge, and her long ago direct testimony to him, that final message she had sent was the only other personal anecdote he would ever have from her on the conversion of Rebecca.
She hoped he had the time to at least figure out that much. She knew forgiving her was out of the question, but she hoped he would eventually understand that if she could have refused, she would have. Even if he would still kill her regardless.
Amy rose from the grass, heading to her old phantom class yacht, cleared of its valuables which were sent to Maple Harte...
Amy raised her hands, her face bubbling between hers and Phyre's as deep red lightning raced down and struck the craft, setting it ablaze. A symbolic gesture. There would be no fleeing into the shadows to wait out her enemies. Not again. Not this time.
Her service to The Dark Side ended today. Whatever other, lesser copies of The Amalgam might still be out there, forgotten even by her, it did not change the fact that this version of The Amalgam had reached the end of her road, and that her road was gonna end the only way it could end.
This Amalgam, this second Darth Phyre, was not leaving Dantooine alive, and no copies of this particular Amalgam would ever be found, for she had not made any.
The Amalgam awaited her family. Awaited to be killed.
A single white tear slid out of her eye as she remembered what it was like to be a part of a family. Though the emotion was completely corrupted by her inherently evil nature, she had genuinely loved House Io, its founder, The Nuetralizers, her son, Maple, Even The Battalion. Maple had not become all that Amy had wanted, but Amy was confident that someday, someday Darth Strelok, if nothing else, would at least gain closure over the Brain Demon. Over the Cult. Amy sincerely wanted that for Strelok, in spite of a lifetime and beyond of service to the Dark Side. Even Amy knew the Cult was ultimately but one more medium for the will of Darkness, and would pass as all things do.
Even the Darth Phyre deep inside, wearing Amy's face and mind as much out of genuine addiction as wanting to give those she cared for in her own twisted way closure at this point, knew The Cult's days were numbered. That the Brain Demon's days were numbered, and no less by dominos she had set up in Rebecca herself, deeply disgusted at having to betray her own first born.
Percival had made Darth Phyre break her own programming.
"I have ripped..." she said softly, waiting for them to arrive, the white blood tear sliding slowly down a perfect face. "And I have torn...and while it is not done...by no means will it ever, truly, be done, I..."
The Amalgam choked on the next words, breeze flowing harsh and chilly through raven locks.
"...I..." she struggled, falling to her knees as the weight of what was coming finally hit her.
"I. Am. Done."
Amy found the strength to stand and lit the purple blades of her staff, practicing a final Kata...
"But it should've been perfect. I mean, he had me, Nicky Santoro, his best friend watching his @#$. And he had Ginger, the woman he loved on his arm. But in the end...we &$#@+& it all up. It should have been so sweet, too. But it turned out to be the last time that street guys like us were ever given anything that &+$#@+) valuable again."
--Darth Strelok, quoting Joe Pesci in a fit of madness and prophecy
Aboard The Leviathan of Danuta...
The strike had been as sudden as it was vicious, the Model 1 Commando units arriving with a crack team of Brain Demon Sorceresses.
Xiphos had given the Neutralizers permission to kill Themis' underlings to a certain extent, but not Themis herself. The ship was in the grip of her powerful battle cruiser tractor beam, so it couldn't flee. Arianna had convinced her to spare them. And because Xiphos was all about family, she had acquiesced to Arianna this one final time out of Arianna's unwavering loyalty.
(Cutaway of J. Jonah Jameson laughing uncontrollably)
It was inevitable
Darth Themis
would surrender as every future where she didn't ended in the execution of her and everyone else left alive.Themis had been dragged before Xiphos on the bridge of the Leviathan of Danuta.
"I was willing to overlook a lot of things..." said Xiphos, shrouded in the darkness of the bridge before a Darth Themis forced to her knees by Model 1's sticking shotguns in her face.
"The fact you failed my parents. That your prophecy of their deaths was entirely self fulfilling. That you left me flawed, defective guardians that either died or abandoned me or had to be shoved into the brain of someone else to function properly once more. That the speech impediment was not a side effect, but on purpose, designed to prevent me from gaining the self confidence necessary to be my own person later in life. The perfect tool you could mold once my parents were out of the way. But it didn't work out like you expected. So you...you got desperate..."
Themis heard Laertia's boots moving across the deck of the futuristic bridge.
"I didn't manipulate your parents into getting themselves killed..." Themis said.
"Bullchit." said the voice in the dark. "You were the first to announce it. The first to come up with the idea of sending guardians to protect me. And how convenient, how utterly convenient that one of them would just so happen to look like you and have naturally addictive hyper-pheremones! I was all set to trust that face when it showed up with Alyosha on Atrisia! You literally couldn't have planned it better."
"That's not what happened. Your parents were going to die. I didn't make a self fulfilling prophecy! That's what the Force told me AND them!" Themis protested. "If I did manipulate you, it was only to try and get you away from the Cult that murdered your family!"
"Well, Reality had other plans..."
"Not reality!" Themis snapped "No! This has nothing to do with reality at all, and everything to do with your wounded pride towards the Galaxy! You never stopped fighting the Bryn'adul Wars even after they were over!" Themis said. "You've been clinging to your hatreds for over ten years, Julia! TEN YEARS! The Cult is just the only one willing to validate you. So you listen to them instead of the people who loved you because we were telling you the truth, and you didn't like that. But we stuck by, partly because we had nowhere to go, but MOSTLY because we all kept hoping, deep down, that you would come back to sanity and finally reject them the way your own children have begged you to!"
Themis actually started crying.
"You think we liked watching you dishonor your entire family by taking their killers into your bed? By lusting after your own corrupted master and the woman who butchered your grandparents, you sick feth? Many times we laid out alternatives but you didn't listen. Because it wasn't the Bryn'adul you were really angry at. It was the Jedi and everyone who rejected working with murdering filth like The Amalgam to justify your desperation to be with her. And you hate them so much because deep down, you are insecure as all get out over the choices you made to get here, so you lash out like a child with petty online stunts involving the death of your opponents. If your mother and father could see you now, they would no doubt ask to die again!" Themis spat finally in contempt, her disgust and disappointment at her god-daughter finally tumbling out. "You're destroying the mental health of your own society. They will tear away from you when the Cult's evil is finally up close and personal, when people hide in their homes from the Cult's evil!"
"My people have come to understand the value of strength..." Xiphos replied, stepping into view, face pale, skin clammy, eyes a hate filled sulphur.
"It's funny...in spite of your myriad treacheries and deceptions, I was willing to overlook all of that, simply because I loved your guardians, even knowing what they were, and why they were that way. Yet if I had not been exposed to such strange creations, I might not have been so able to accept the Cult, or love Amy. Or Elaine..."
"But I do not overlook you blatantly kidnapping her. I'll spare the serpents because Arianna asks, but the only reason you aren't dead is because you didn't destroy her..." Xiphos snarled, holding up the red saber crystal that had The Battalions spirit.
"It was a mistake to take her from you. I see that now..." Themis admitted. "Because with her, or without her, you eventually embraced the Cult, because that is who you are really married to."
Themis looked up at her greatest failure.
"I pity you. I pity your people more though, when they get a look at the real you. After you have removed every last guard rail and voice of reason to kill for its own sake. I weep on the inside for what is coming. To know that it will all be torn apart, everything you've built, by your own cruelty and madness. I shall always weep because I now understand the most terrible truth of all, Laertia...and that terrible truth is that the Force would have been better served sending your father into the future instead of you."
Tears of glowing green blood fell down her face.
"Did you never wonder why it was Phyre...Syd... whatever the hell she is calling herself these days... didn't you ever ask yourself just why every version of her was obsessed with you? And not him?"
"ENOUGH!" Xiphos roared. "I banish you to house arrest on a capital ship to be determined at a later date! TAKE HER AWAY!"
Themis was brutally hauled off. Xiphos got her panic attack under control before heading to the private ritual chamber in her quarters where a pool of white Cultist blood rested in a pit.
Focusing the Dark Side, Xiphos guided the stolen spirit to the lake of pale blood, which glowed violently red, thrashing about as the spirit started manipulating the corrupted blood to forge a new body, until with a sudden, hideous pulse the blood vanished and in its place rose a bubbling, sloughing body that reset into the figure and mind of
The Battalion
, who opened her eyes and Xiphos had teleported into her waiting grasp, running her hands through her lover's hair, a deep kiss planted on freshly recreated lips."Honey...so good of you to show..." The Battalion flirted. "Thought I was gonna have to resort to dialing a collect call from hell..."
Then she stopped, her mouth dropping open as she finally sensed the change, saw the eyes.
A delighted squeal escaped The Battalion's throat as she clasped Xiphos' face, glee and joy crossing her face.
"You TURNED!" The Battalion said in almost disbelief...
"Yes, I know. After you get dressed, we'll call Percival here. We are going to Dantooine...where it all started..."
"Of course..." The Battalion said slyly, snapping her fingers as all the lights flickered out.
"After we get dressed..."
Xiphos giggled in the darkness...
One hour later...
Xiphos awaited at the bridge with The Battalion, in her all white catsuit. She had been informed of the changes. She was worried about Percival and Galahad's mental state in particular. She loved both, in her own way. She was sad to see them fragment even slightly.
They were finally going to kill Amy. And Percival and
Alessandra Io
would have first class tickets to the execution. Xiphos loved Amy, but it was time. Xiphos owed Percival, owed Maple, owed Nine, owed herself, and even, ironically enough, owed The Marksmen, that band of Jedi Shadows she had once been part of, this last hurrah. This final...gesture. The closest Xiphos would ever get to a full apology to anyone for all the stuff she had done for the past decade. The closest she might ever get to passing real judgment on herself.Today was not just a reckoning upon Amy, but upon Laertia Io herself. About the very concept of Laertia Io as a person.
Because today was the day Laertia Io was going to die....
Meanwhile...
The Amalgam meditated patiently on the very spot where Laertia's parents had been violently dismembered. It was morning. A perfect morning.
A perfect morning to finally die.
She had made her peace with that fact. Spent the morning going through albums of photos. Smiled at the memories of the days she had spent with Percival whenever he remembered she was his mother. She knew he would be coming to help kill her. She was happy with that. She wanted him to have that closure. Her final gift to him.
Within his lover, The Deluge, lay the secret to opening the realm of The Brain Demon. She wished she could have told him, but she had sensed he would join her in death eventually. She had cried about that when she realized it. It was one of the few times she ever felt actual remorse. Being forced to convert her own son's lover had been the straw that had finally broken her loyal back in regards to the Brain Demon.
Amy was finally done with it all herself. The Darth Phyre inside her was done also. Her violent delights would at last meet violent ends. (Quoth the bard: 90 XP)
All that was left was to have the last, most exciting duel of her life.
She had sent
Percival Io
one simple message she knew he would ignore over e-mail:I wish it had been anyone else but Rebecca. But I couldn't disobey.
That, she felt, succinctly communicated her thoughts on the matter. If he ever did read that message, which even by her own admission was unlikely, then maybe...just maybe...he and he alone might finally know, in private, that The Amalgam really hadn't wanted to go through with it. Not that it mattered. She still had, and with her usual hamminess in the process. But inside she had known what that final act of cruelty would cost her...it would cost her a place in the world she helped Xiphos forge.
Other than that will she had entrusted to the Deluge, and her long ago direct testimony to him, that final message she had sent was the only other personal anecdote he would ever have from her on the conversion of Rebecca.
She hoped he had the time to at least figure out that much. She knew forgiving her was out of the question, but she hoped he would eventually understand that if she could have refused, she would have. Even if he would still kill her regardless.
Amy rose from the grass, heading to her old phantom class yacht, cleared of its valuables which were sent to Maple Harte...
Amy raised her hands, her face bubbling between hers and Phyre's as deep red lightning raced down and struck the craft, setting it ablaze. A symbolic gesture. There would be no fleeing into the shadows to wait out her enemies. Not again. Not this time.
Her service to The Dark Side ended today. Whatever other, lesser copies of The Amalgam might still be out there, forgotten even by her, it did not change the fact that this version of The Amalgam had reached the end of her road, and that her road was gonna end the only way it could end.
This Amalgam, this second Darth Phyre, was not leaving Dantooine alive, and no copies of this particular Amalgam would ever be found, for she had not made any.
The Amalgam awaited her family. Awaited to be killed.
A single white tear slid out of her eye as she remembered what it was like to be a part of a family. Though the emotion was completely corrupted by her inherently evil nature, she had genuinely loved House Io, its founder, The Nuetralizers, her son, Maple, Even The Battalion. Maple had not become all that Amy had wanted, but Amy was confident that someday, someday Darth Strelok, if nothing else, would at least gain closure over the Brain Demon. Over the Cult. Amy sincerely wanted that for Strelok, in spite of a lifetime and beyond of service to the Dark Side. Even Amy knew the Cult was ultimately but one more medium for the will of Darkness, and would pass as all things do.
Even the Darth Phyre deep inside, wearing Amy's face and mind as much out of genuine addiction as wanting to give those she cared for in her own twisted way closure at this point, knew The Cult's days were numbered. That the Brain Demon's days were numbered, and no less by dominos she had set up in Rebecca herself, deeply disgusted at having to betray her own first born.
Percival had made Darth Phyre break her own programming.
"I have ripped..." she said softly, waiting for them to arrive, the white blood tear sliding slowly down a perfect face. "And I have torn...and while it is not done...by no means will it ever, truly, be done, I..."
The Amalgam choked on the next words, breeze flowing harsh and chilly through raven locks.
"...I..." she struggled, falling to her knees as the weight of what was coming finally hit her.
"I. Am. Done."
Amy found the strength to stand and lit the purple blades of her staff, practicing a final Kata...
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