Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Murdering Beauty And Passion

Kyrinov

][ A B S O L U T I O N ][
Outer Rim Space
Ryloth - Unknown Location
0921 Planetary Time
[member="Thesh"]
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The land around the man was desolate, void of anything save for sand and the occasional valley. Many of them were similar in formation to the one he stood in, cracked and steep slopes running down until the land seemed to compromise on a suitable middle ground.

The air was dry and it howled within the ears of wanderers that dared to traverse the valley in search of protection from the sandstorms that frequented the area like a parasite. It might even prove harder to breathe within the valley, as the dust only swelled and became trapped inbetween the two sloped entrances on either side of the pale man.

Ryloth was an odd place, but it was also the perfect planet to pull from. It had prime conditions for their lesson today, whenever the young Acolyte showed his youthful face in the wasteland.

So, Kyrinov stood, patiently, as he waited for the boy who went by the name of Thesh. From what he’d researched about the Acolyte, he’d found that the boy was in his teenage years. Even so, he’d formerly been a slave. Fuel to the fire then. Now, this ‘Thesh’ character was an aspiring Sith.

For a brief moment, the Epicanthix wondered how the boy got himself out of that situation. But, that question soon faded from his mind entirely. It simply did not matter at this particular point in time.

The past was of no consequence. All that mattered was the boy’s current predicament and his potential future greatness. Once the boy became an Acolyte of the Sith, everything of his previous life was shattered. His former Master did not exist. His former home and family, nonexistent.

Void.

Insubstantial.

Fictitious.

Spurious.

Synonyms.

Kyrinov nodded absently at nothing in particular. His mind wandered about some of his various tasks that he still needed to complete after this little engagement of theirs. The coordinates to his location had been sent to Thesh while the Knight was still aboard The Emulous. But, nonetheless, there the pale man stood, expectant. He stood out like a blight upon the swirling and shifting tempest of dust. His entire being was a sore thumb, everything from his white hair and skin and his black outfit.

A brief eternity passed as he opened himself to the Force, allowing his presence to leak from his pores. There wasn’t a reason to mask himself.

All he had to do was wait for the boy to find his way.
 
All around him the sound of creatures rang, the croaks of little frogs hiding within treetops, the low growls of blurrg agitated by the native primates, and the strange clicking sounds emitted by the mandibles of can-cells and lylek.

It was the latter which had him the most nervous.

He had spent most of that day traversing the thick and varied landscape of Ryloth. It was a test, he knew, whether it had been set by his Master or the one he was meeting with, to see how he would cope. Usually he was dropped off at the exact meeting point, but this time? Well, this time he had to keep his head about him. He had to focus on the map loaded into his datapad, to keep a watch out for water sources and in turn know which were drinkable and which would do him harm.

But most of all, it was a test to see how he would handle the native creatures. And there were plenty of them to be afraid of.

Even the blurrg, who were often docile and domesticated, could be dangerous when provoked. He had kept a wide birth of anything that popped up on his mental radar, the Force guiding him in that sense, though toward the tail end of the journey, when the map was showing that it was only another couple of miles and a shift in terrain, his luck seemed to run dry.

Electroblade in hand, he'd gone toe to toe with a gutkurr. Though he had managed to delimb the creature - and forced it to scurry back into the caves from which it had ambushed him - the young boy had not walked away scratch free. There was a very subtle limp to his gait and a gnarly gash that ran down the left of his face - from cheek bone to chin - and seemed to finish somewhere on his upper torso. Part of his shirt had been torn in the process, and though he had washed out the wound at the next source of water it still remained bloody and bruised.

Finally the terrain changed and the wild jungles were left behind him in favour of dust-clouds and towering mesas. Valleys lay strewn off into the distance, yet it was into the closest of these land-dips that he was being directed to. By this point the boy was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he wanted nothing more than to rest. Still, he'd faced tougher days, he'd worked harder and faster, so he pushed on. Even when the dust stuck within his throat and made it difficult to breathe. Even when the wounds burned.

He glanced down at himself, when he came within several feet of the meeting point, noticing the mingling of both his blood and that of the gutkurr which was a vividly different shade. Thesh knew that in his present state he was not necessarily representing his Master in the best possible way, he was unkempt, sweaty, his shirt disheveled even without the rip to contend with.

But he had made it.

And in his eyes, that alone was enough to hold his head up high as he approached the white-haired man.

He might have been in shock or awe by that stark white hair, if not for [member="Darth Maliphant"] sporting the same alabaster locks. Admittedly, though, his Master wore his hair much longer than the man who now stood before him. The boy inclined his head ever so slightly, as a sign of respect - a far cry different from the bow he'd shown Tsis back on Kruskan and a great marker to show how far he had come since then - before meeting the man's gaze.

For the time being Thesh said nothing, as he drank in the dry air and allowed his limbs to feel at least momentary respite from the trials they had endured.

He wasn't much to look at, that boy, with his dainty stature - he didn't look older than ten, in truth, despite what his files might have said - and relatively mild mannerisms, in fact it was easier to see the slave in him than the Sith. But if one was to look, truly look, into his eyes, they'd see a fire burning deep within. Even now, in his exhaustion. It did not quite fit the child, and yet at the same time it spoke of something more within him.

Something which had only recently been awoken.

[member="Kyrinov"]
 

Kyrinov

][ A B S O L U T I O N ][
[SIZE=9pt]For all intents and purposes,[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]The boy looked an absolute mess. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]His shirt was torn and further tattered in various places. There was a cut, likely from an animal that he came across in the jungles that straddled the desert. Whatever attacked him or whatever circumstance caused his injuries seemed to have done a decent job at it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As the boy walked toward him, he could see the limp that accompanied his stride. As he drew even closer, his eyes gravitated to the cut on the left side of his face once more. It was a deep one, from the looks of it. Once there lesson was done, he’d need to see a medical droid or an actual sentient doctor to get the wound treated before it became infected and looked much worse than it currently did.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]His hair was matted and sticking fast to his head from the salty sweat coated his forehead. His cream colored skin was bruised and ravaged from his trials. For a moment, the Knight almost pitied the boy. But, he had endured those obstacles and he’d cast off the literal and metaphysical chains of his former life. That was what fascinated Kyrinov that most about this one. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]The teen’s determination. His drive to escape and become something far better than he’d been before he began his life as an aspiring Sith. Soon, he would hold within him a power that could cast his former Master’s notion of the word into Oblivion. He would carry a weight that would be a crushing burden upon the shoulders of any mere mortal. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Perhaps, he too, knew this to be true. Perhaps, that was the reason behind the raging fire in those sky blue moonstones in his head. He knew, and sought, the control that he’d lost at such a young age. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Their eyes locked and the boy inclined his head.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Kyrinov smirked, a twitch of the muscles at the edge of his pink lips. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Good.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]“Hello, Thesh.” the man’s baritone voice rang out without any visual appearance of projection. “I trust your journey here was eventful?”[/SIZE]
 
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______________________________________________________________
Ryloth, The Outer Rim Territories // Unknown Valley
Awaiting Instruction // With [member="Kyrinov"]
// Faintly I'll Go, To Take This Head On...
______________________________________________________________
To begin with, the only thing truly keeping Thesh from immediately responding was one very specific uncertainty; how was he to refer to the man before him? You see, usually Thesh was in the presence of someone he knew, or had been expecting to see, he could prepare ahead of time, that or a rank, title, or name was given. As with Tehk, in this case he was at a loss.

And thus he defaulted back to the only real example he had to draw from. As with Tsis, he opted for the more respectful course of action, knowing immediately that the one who stood before him was no fellow Acolyte.

"Eventful?" he reiterated, once he had caught his breath, voice quiet yet carrying a certain strength all the same, his gaze settling upon the man's own, "Yes, Master, eventful indeed."

He knew of course that he'd be corrected if some other title were better suited, Sir was one he typically endeavored to use around older Acolytes. No... He'd stick with what he'd used back on Kruskan.

Lifting one hand, he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve - feeling a faint line of blood dripping from the wound - and waited. Waited for what, he did not know. Truth be told, as with most of these ventures he had no part in planning, Thesh did not know what his purpose here was, yet where most would believe that the trek through dangerous jungles all night long was that self same purpose, as he stood there in the fresh morning light, half buried in shadow caused by the valley walls, the boy knew better.

No, this trial had only just begun.
 

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