Razelle Breuner
Rogue Element
OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
- Intent: Netherworld contest whaddup~
- Image Credit: Screencap from George Lucas' 1971 film "THX 1138"
- Canon: N/A
- Links: N/A
- Structure Name: The White Room
- Classification: Reality-defying prison
- Location: The Netherworld of the Force
- Affiliation: N/A
- Accessibility: Obscure. The door to the White Room takes many shapes and frequently moves throughout the Netherworld, but once found, all one has to do is walk through.
- Description: A seemingly infinite, featureless white room.
- Gate: None, though Rakatan mind prisons achieve a similar effect.
- Lucidity: Static. The White Room is unchanging. While most laws of the galaxy seem to be in effect, like gravity and sound, others seem to distort and change at a whim. Space, in particular, is wildly inconsistent in the White Room. Two people might enter together, but constantly move apart despite their best efforts, leaving both alone in the void.
- Hostility: None. The White Room is utterly empty.
The Door. Once inside, the only way out is to find the Door. Unfortunately, the Netherworld is constantly shifting, even in this most static of places. Once closed, the Door is nearly impossible to find. What's more, the White Room seems to have a sense of sadism, teasing all those within with ephemeral glimpses of this exit, but keeping it forever unattainable.
SECURITY
None. Your mortal understanding of danger is irrelevant.
HISTORICAL INFORMATION
Hell is subjective. Many might find the Blood Wastes unpleasant, but for others it's simply another battlefield to conquer. Some might find Serenity's Redoubt soothing, but others can only see it as an uncomfortable distraction. One person might find an eternity faced with their own ignorance utter torment, while another would break when confronted with just how little they've accomplished. And so the Netherworld is mercurial, ever shifting, adapting to the sins of the material world.
Pride, however, is eternal. Pride has resulted in the deaths of untold billions, the collapse of entire epochs of galactic life. It's visible in the regal skyscraper, the formidable Sith bastion, and the sheer arrogance of the fleet flagship. The old Galactic Empire seemed invincible, but for the pride its authors had in their creation. The Republic was a beacon to the people of the galaxy meant to shine forever, but collapsed under the weight of its own self-assured defenders. The ancient Rakatan Empire was untouchable. Unassailable. Look upon their works, ye mighty, and despair.
The White Room is an unobtrusive Hell, at first glance. Appropriately, it's just a white room, though seemingly infinite in scale. The floor is unbreakable, and there is no ceiling. The walls and floor seem to cast their own light, as there's not a single shadow to be found. In fact, there's nothing at all. No matter how long one walks, there's no furniture, no rubble, no sign of habitation. No matter how hard one thrashes, not a scratch remains. No matter how loudly one screams, there is no answer.
It may start becoming clear how this would be torment, but why pride? No one would want to be trapped forever in an endless void, but it hardly seems catered to one specific sin. Why is this place - empty and white - so damn foreboding? Why do Sith spirits who finally escape after eons of struggling and searching come back twisted and broken? Why did the Rakata fear this place so keenly that they seem to have designed their most terrible prisons to resemble it?
But you already know. In the back of your mind, you understand. This Hell of nothingness. This unassailable, perfect emptiness. You'd never wish this on your worst enemy.
The hidden cost of pride is isolation.