Make the Metal Sing

[Atom Smasher]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAUA_Yd-9BI​

Seated atop the desk in his office of his Bastion headquarters, Aurelius Morday waited to receive a small group of young Sith who promptly signed up to attend a class on the craft of alchemy. His favourite organ music drawled majestically from a speaker on a low setting over vials of chemicals and beakers displayed in cases on the red striped wallpaper. Gold filigree outlined the red and glistened on the surface of the glass. A framed poster of the periodic table sat large on one side of the room and Aurelius himself sat nonchalantly, taking in the taste of a cigar while he arched his head backwards and listened to the music.

Brushing a hand over his sandy blonde hair, he looked at the time on a gold pocket watch and heard the sound of approaching footsteps from outside the door. Dressing for convenience, Aurelius wore a beige suit jacket and pants over a plain white shirt and polished brogues. He opted against wearing his usual robes to easily wear the protective suit the students and himself would require to conduct their dangerous experiments. The door opened and five young men entered, fresh within the ranks of the Sith and rising through the hierarchy. Aurelius hopped down from the desk and greeted them with his arms spread across the air, the cigar balanced between his pudgy fingers.

"Welcome boys, to my headquarters. My name is Aurelius Morday and I hope you will take away some valuable knowledge from this class. I will teach how how to mold the visceral and the tangible to apply some of the most abhorrent techniques conceivable by Sith." Bringing his mouth to his lips, Aurelius pressed them over the end of the cigar and took in a large amount of smoke. "You can call me Auri or Mr. Morday, so long as you don't call me "my lord", I don't like that sh-t." Not one to care for the formalities of the Sith order, he preferred to run his domain as a businessman, rather than a scholar or noble. "Now tell me your names so I know what to call you." The alchemist finished by inviting the students to introduce themselves.

"I believe in learning through practice, I can't function if I'm just sitting around writing and talking, but there are two pieces of important information I need to cover before we begin." Aurelius knew most students were less interested to hear theory and he quietly agreed with their plight. The alchemist could not sit still for more than fifteen seconds and became antsy if he was not working. The first two pieces of information however, he regarded as vital basic knowledge. "First of all, Sith alchemy and sorcery, while both arcane arts, are not the same craft. Alchemy manipulates physical and chemical matter, while sorcery manipulates energy, force and reality. Alchemy is the earthly, sorcery is the otherwordly." Aurelius continued. "Secondly, transmutation and augmentation are the two primary forms of applying alchemy, can anybody tell me the difference?" He finished with a question to test what the Acolytes already knew.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"], [member="Drios Rapux"], [member="Venthis Zambrano"], [member="Dakil"], [member="Lark"]

 

[Yaadri Osi-Yyn]

Imperial Alchemy Industries Headquarters,
Bastion.

Alchemy, a subject the young Zambrano had only heard mentioned to him before. Though a few days prior he had caught word of a class taking place on the subject and of course he wouldn't turn such an other down. He set off from his home, in his usual fighter. Landing back in the capital of The Sith Empire, Bastion. He was unsure of the Corporation he was heading to, he hadn't heard of what they were working on. Though from entering the facility he could already tell it was serious. The class was set for sign ups before it happened, a set limit of people was allowed to attend. Once he entered the lobby of the facility, he would glance around seeing if he could catch the eye of any of the other Sith acolytes who were to attend. Eventually seeing the other four, and meeting with them before heading to the office of the teacher of the lesson.

As the door opened it revealed the entirety of the room, from the periodic table on the wall to Aurelius himself sat on his desk. Venthis entered the room, shuffling over to the side wearing a simple black shirt, with black trousers. Wearing a seemingly expensive belt. His shoes polished similarly to Aurelius. He glanced around before listening to what the Sith Knight had to say. After waiting for the others to say their names, Venthis spoke. "Venthis Zambrano." He settled with. His name carrying heritage, however, he hoped the attendees would ignore the fact of his family name, for this brief lesson. Venthis listened closely as he began to explain the fundamentals of Alchemy. Clearly taking mental notes.

When it came to the final question, that Aurelis proposed. Venthis had no idea, he was new to the idea of Alchemy. Not having read up on the subject at all, at least yet.

[member="Aurelius Morday"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Dakil"] | [member="Lark"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Aurelius' Morday's Office,
Bastion

The Epicanthix had been in the grand capital of the Sith Empire for a few days now, after taking a rare break to steal himself away from the dark chambers and libraries of his homestead upon Panatha, simply to immerse himself once more into the hustle and bustle of the newly birthed Empire; and when he saw the advertisement for an Alchemy class pop up whilst scrolling through his datapad within his accommodation, the Knight welcomed the opportunity with welcome arms.

A few moments after Venthis, Drios made his entrance dressed in a basic black shirt and equally dull trousers, shiny leather boots which made no sound as he glided across the floor of the laboratory. He made an effort to consciously sit in Venthis' eyeline, to show him what a true Epicanthix looked like, of nobler heritage and not one derived from some inbred hooligans and a feared mogul dressed in a silly armour of skulls and bones. "Drios Rapux." he announced simply taking cue from the Alchemist's words, and he silently promised himself to keep a tight lip, for he wished to evaluate the playing field before he tapped into his rudimentary knowledge of the art - mostly sculpted by arcane texts that lay in his library and the grand libraries here on Bastion.

[member="Venthis Zambrano"] [member="Aurelius Morday"] [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Dakil"] [member="Lark"]

 

[Dakil]

He was a man seemingly lost to the sands of time. Olden formalities and mannerisms yet all the pomp and vigor of the modern galaxy pumped through his veins. Plate armor and metal blades, starships and blasters. Monstrous fiends and siege machines, imperial ideology and primal ambition. However, there was still a lot more for this beast in terms of the timeless arcane arts. Grenzo had brought this little gathering to his attention and saw it fit enough to require his presence.

There were always things he could learn, whether it be olden craft or pinnacles of the new age.

Clad in a simple grey tunic, trousers and matching boots, Dakil strode into the building with noble impunity - chest out and shoulders back.

He'd even changed the headband that hid his torn eye from view. Incisors and fangs had been meticulously cleaned, hair combed. It had been far too long since Dakil had ever been this sanitary and clean. Even his lieutenant marveled at the sight before quickly retreating upon threats of violence and slavery should any stains appear on his clothes.

He regarded the other students with his single eye, giving them shallow looks with brief glints of fang. "Qoae hoxêma hr'ifwi Dakil." The man spoke in his native tongue.

"I am called Dakil." The man spoke, "Transmutation is the transformation of one thing into another, while augmentation is making something greater than the original."

His answer was not knowledge granted by alchemical studies but rather that of simple linguistics. Dakil had no clue as to whether he was correct or not, so he half expected this Sir Morday to shut him down and rant about something only a skilled alchemist would know.

[member="Drios Rapux"], [member="Venthis Zambrano"], [member="Aurelius Morday"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Near human, near human, human, human, and...something.

Tsisaar was momentarily intrigued with the fact that he wasn't the only "something" present in the room, compared to members of a species that - while not necessarily any more recognizable than that he descended from - would be viewed as more "the norm" than him. But he was still the only member of the group that had long fleshy tendrils hanging off of his face, so that quite obviously put him furthest from the baseline. With any luck, they'd all prove too preoccupied with the class going on to stare at him. Feeling other people's eyes focused on him always made it harder to pay attention.

As the round of introductions came to him, he spoke up with a short "Tsisaar," his name coming out in a short bass rumble. He looked around to see if anybody else in the group would answer the question, although it appeared neither of the ones who had already named themselves were willing to do so. Rather than joining them in their silence, Tsis decided to speak up and provide the answer himself. After all, fortune favours the bold.

Before he could speak, however, he was foiled by hiw writer's slow posting speed another student spoke up before him. So, instead, he did join the two Epicanthix before him in their silence, giving a simple nod of agreement in the direction of the larger, fanged man standing near him.

 

[Lark]

With a bemused smile, Lark waited outside the training room alongside the others that showed, leaning against a stone column forged long ago by an architect whose name was likely lost in the annals of history. There was an underlying feeling of tension surrounding them, some of them had only just met and already suspicions and judgements were being silently made, rivalries had formed in an instant. Such was the competitive nature of the Sith. Of course, he was guilty of the same prudence he accused the others of. He hummed quietly to himself with the hint of a smile on his pale face, flipping through the pages of a small book, written entirely in the ancient language of the Sith. He had been studied it for some time now, and although other practices kept him busy and progress was not as quick as he would like, the headway he had made was suitable for now.

​His humming ceased as they were admitted into the training room, the higher ranks of the Sith were all so unique, you never knew what on would expect from you. But he couldn't hide his smile. His hands were held harmoniously behind his back, and he took a position at the end of the line they formed. With his burning, curious, corrupted eyes Lark studied the man who would be their teacher for the lesson. He spoke bluntly, not unlike Lark's usual Master, although his tastes seemed to be a touch more... high-class.

"My name is Lark," he announced when it was his turn, with a pleasant smile still resting upon his almost ghostly form. Another had already answered the second question that was asked, so Lark let his words trail into nothingness after his introduction. He sheathed his greatest weapon, the gift of gab he had honed ever since he talked his mother into suicide.

It wasn't needed now, perhaps it would be soon. But for the moment, he held his tongue and awaited what new lessons were to be taught.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Dakil"] [member="Drios Rapux"] [member="Venthis Zambrano"] [member="Aurelius Morday"]