Public Omens Inside the Blackwall (Sith space: get your fortune told!)

[Velok Brokentusk]

JUTRAND - MAXIMUM SECURITY SITH CAPITAL
ALBEIT A LESS GLORIOUS CORNER

The ramshackle kiosk had the proper permits, somehow. 'Papers, please' had worked out fine. Now Velok Brokentusk, a simple nine-foot-tall fortuneteller, set up shop to ply his craft. A cauldron of unmentionable goos boiled pungently on the kiosk desk beside a bowl of carved casting-bones and a deck of large cards suitable for Whiphid hands. Between clients, Velok read the local news and pondered the urgencies and exigencies of life, and drank ladlefulls of slurry. The visions were upon him. The Force was strong here.

The kiosk sign said:

FORTUNES BY VELOK
YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR​

---

The thread is INSTANCED - come get your fortune told privately regardless of what other people post.

 

[Shade of Decay]

The rude kiosk that Velok Brokentusk had set up on Jutrand, with a tattered awning hovering over it that seemed almost to double as a fume hood to keep the noxious odors of his cauldron from rising and spreading to every passer-by, appeared almost perfectly suited to the decrepit market square it was located in. The effects of the Blackwall were felt in every last stratum of Sith society, from the lords that ruled over the populace whether openly or secluded within the shadows, to the citizens that struggled even before being cut off from the wider galaxy to make ends meet. With the lack of trade goods coming in from outside, the disappearance of dissidents, and even those who complained too loudly having reason to fear their own mysterious removal, the market had declined, shop fronts going empty, kiosks and stalls left to collapse and rot.

Yet others came in often enough and tried to set up, claiming space as they could, officially or unofficially, perhaps repairing a broken table and spreading their wares upon it, perhaps only on a tarp out along the duracrete ground. Sometimes the homeless would break into an abandoned store, where space itself was the commodity they sought, broken glass, torn clothes and some drops of blood the currency they bought it with. An easy enough place to go hidden for those who didn't want to attract the attention of the powers that be, so long as they kept their ears to the ground and were ready to get out of the way when the area was designated for a clean-up.

It wouldn't be long before the SISA was coming to the area, most likely, and whoever else more openly sinister with them. And most likely there would be a number within it who failed to notice the signs, and were present when they would wish they had not been. Perhaps some of them would seek out a fortune teller's services, and may gain an important warning...if they had the presence of mind to understand it.

A Khil walking down the road stroked at the mass of huleppi dangling from his face, fingers lingering on one scarred tendril that had been partially severed in combat years ago. Bent, with a hacking cough, and the general malaise which spoke of some odious malady that kept the others around from coming too close, he stumbled on a crack in the walkway—righted himself quickly and continued along without a second glance backwards.

Heedless of the odorous concoction brewing on the table, he sat down wordlessly, drawing in a deep breath and almost instantly doubling over as the cough returned, simultaneously wet and grating as the mass of flesh dangling from just beneath his nose shook with each convulsive rasp. Once the fit subsided, though, pure black eyes rose to make eye contact with the hulking Wiphid beneath the awning.

"Youngest. It has been some time." He raised a clawed hand, four bony fingers depositing a heavy coin on the desk between them. Then the hand jerked back, as though the muscles had barely remembered how they were supposed to work. He blinked away a thin film over his eyes, and where they once again looked distinct, the rest of his flesh looked...ragged at the edges, and semi-translucent, as though it were at the edge of destruction with whatever sickness pervaded the body it was attached to. "You were right, last time. It is controllable. Containable. Would that I had better than this damnable copy to walk in, though I don't want to try getting myself through this wall."

His head turned, peering out at nothing.

"The Seer...the Warden. I heard he died." It mattered not whether Velok actually knew who he spoke of when he said such; the Force would, and Brokentusk's fortune-teller way may reveal things through it that he did not intend to search out another way. There yet remained some things, in the galaxy and the Netherworld both, that he held too much respect for to go dragging the answers out by force. "Does he rest well?"

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Velok took up the heavy coin between the tips of his three great claws and made it disappear with a practised flick. "I remember milord's fortune, but fortune isn't destiny. I hear the Sith here have their feelings about destiny. Build what you want to be, milord. I'll give you that for free.

"As for the question..."

He stirred the ladle, sipped from the cauldron, considered the acridity, and added a few drops from a locked flask. He drank more deeply and coughed iridescent smoke from his cavernous nostrils. The smoke sank sullenly into the wide bowl that held his casting-bones, and when he cast them, the answer was clear, even though Velok knew nothing of the subject.

"Your...Warden made a mistake long before his death. He once wanted to live forever and in a way he will. But he's only somewhat restless. Mostly he sleeps."

Shade of Decay

 

[Shade of Decay]

Black eyes narrowed as the answer was pondered.

He did not know the former Warden of the Jedi well, but he hoped that the man had found peace from the struggles he had given his life to. An odd position, for a Sith, but by any metric he was odd for a Sith. But a mistake worth noting even in fortune, wanting to live forever, and restlessness in death...these were not the things he would expect to befall master Varobalder. Unless, perhaps, the call of duty and the bonds of brotherhood were too strong to allow a quiet oblivion.

Though, perhaps, that was not an answer the Force wished to give him, and he was directed instead towards a different personage. One he had not thought of himself. Both were possible.

"Mostly is better than some would have it...or will. I can accept that."

Not that he would have a choice, anyways.

Some of those walking through the market had stopped for a moment at the sound of the Khil's grinding voice, looking on with some concern before hurrying themselves along. As with the crack that had nearly sent him to the ground, he paid them no heed. "You are well travelled." No doubt there were reasons for that, just as he had his own, but unlike other Sith he did not claim himself to be omniscient or omnipotent. "I am currently on my way to Kamino. I heard of an expedition, and I feel like travel myself."

Yet he sat there, in front of the Wiphid. Velok would understand, or he wouldn't care.

"What do your bones think of the Rishi Maze at this time of year, and my travels within it?"

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"I am currently on my way to Kamino. I heard of an expedition, and I feel like travel myself."

"What do your bones think of the Rishi Maze at this time of year, and my travels within it?"

"Ah, Kamino, the blue to my red. Far away, but nothing we can't handle." Velok rummaged under the bench and came out with a pair of bottled which he glugged liberally into the cauldron until it blazed indigo. He hefted the cauldron and drank deep from the flaming brim.

"Ahhhhh. I see it now. I see a landslide on a mountain road. Fifteen birds around a grudging buffalo. A compass spinning over and over. An empty plate. A crab plucked from the sea and thrown hard to splash down far away. I would pack thoroughly."

 

[Shade of Decay]

Dangers, scavengers, and the ever-present threat of getting lost. He nodded. "I volunteered myself as insurance for the others," he rasped. "I think I have one of the largest ships for this expedition...and the certainly the most equipped med bays. I'll be sure everything is well stocked." His eyes slid over to the cauldron, peering over the charred rim at the vivid potion within. Alchemy of a sort, in the classic sense...not that which he had studied.

You get what you pay for. He hadn't paid for lessons. He paid for two visions. The coin may well have earned him more, he wasn't sure. He didn't particularly care to try for it.

He reached within his cloak, pulling out a small object wrapped in cloth, that he set down on the desk. He pulled the corners of the cloth away, revealing a small stone. Almost like polished onyx, or a black opal, and yet it appeared even less solid than he did. He had studied more of the stones than the first he had claimed on Gravlex Med as a younger man; some that he had secreted away had survived in his own hidden offices and laboratories, behind the Blackwall, despite the time he had spent away from them.

"Don't touch it with your flesh," he warned. "Unless you wish to consume it, that is...it will not hesitate to find the core of you. These stones desire such incorporation."

He cleared his throat, wetly and noisily. "I have no specific question in return for this stone, Velok. If you reject it, that is your choice. But—whatever you see of me, whatever of it you find most important to share. I will welcome your sight and your wisdom, if you'll share it for something so open ended."

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

One couldn't live as a Whiphid in a modern universe without learning dexterity. Velok took up the stone in his blunt claw-tips without visionary warning. His focus was rewarded with a sense of bubbling sizzle, the screech of a star weird, and one of the scents of the netherworld. He wondered what would happen if he strapped it to a claymore mine and pointed it at his enemies. Or stuck it in Jutrand's water mains.

"A mystery is a grand gift. This one of the Stones of Pho Ph'eah? Yes, for this...I think the Force will take this as significant recompense. After all, the price isn't just to me. Let's see what this unlocks, friend."

He wrapped the stone in a scrap of cloth and rasped it against the serrated back of a large, large knife. When small black particles grated free, he pulled out his even larger lightsaber and used the brilliant indigo blade to disintegrate the dust precisely. He put away knife, saber, and stone promptly, focusing on the wisps of resulting smoke.

"You will see what nobody has before. That is certain. I think you could see anything you want to. I think you will never be a king because kingship would weaken you. I think you will draw a clear breath someday for longer than a day. What do you see in the smoke?"

Shade of Decay

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Emperor did not walk the streets of Jutrand under the guise of the Corpse - his people would not take his presence well, and the state of his being even less. So he had possessed the body of a young man, eyes blackened by the sickening power of his soul. Welding goggles were strapped tightly to his face, hiding any would-be glance towards the clearly unwell being.

This body would give out, but in a few hours. For now, he would explore his city as one of the commoners - a pass time of his, forever living vicariously through those others who have a life yet to live. Through these foreign eyes he saw a familiar face, Velok Brokentusk - though it had been many years since they had seen one another.

Or rather, since Empyrean had seen Brokentusk with his Grandfather. The young Toola would not recognize him as he was. At least he expected as much. He approached regardless, looking over the stall and seeing it was designated for fortunes.

"And what of my future?", he asked through a voice strained by the overwhelming will of a Veritas.

 

[Darth Moskvin]

Omens

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -​

Location: Jutrand
Gear: In Sig
Familiar: Archimedes​

O'Death

Once more I haunted the streets of Jutrand, my ghostly form drifting through the crowds of people, with my familiar Archie perched upon my left shoulder, his eyes darting back and forth looking into the faces of the passerby's. I always found it detestable to walk amongst other Sith, or their puppets they call citizens; but there are times one must endure the hardships in favor of collecting knowledgeable resources. And that was my purpose today, to obtain a tome from a procurer of mysterious artifacts. The tome was said to hold an ancient ritual stolen centuries ago from my fellow Nightsisters, and twisted by the mind of a long dead Sith Lord.

The various aromas wafting through the streets from food kiosks and street vendors made Archie shift with craveable intentions. The fowl's hunger held no boundaries. Far worse than mine it. "Once the tome is in my hands, I'll acquire you something to eat. But not before then." A single squawk of protest slipped between his beaks, and I could only grin as a parent does at the protest of a defeated child.

Off to our right, a small commotion was on full display; a curiosity of sorts flooded my dampened mind. I have always given into my curiosities, a flaw one would command, but a trait I believed was a foundation of my murderous nature. With a long, single finger, I began tapping it with its black and ruined nail upon my lips; lips that stored in my vault of a mouth those killing mechanisms I employed to feed off the living. "I do wonder what we have there, Archie? I do hope it's a public execution," I smirked whilst changing directions in favor of discovering the concept of this commotion.


​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

So he had possessed the body of a young man, eyes blackened by the sickening power of his soul. Welding goggles were strapped tightly to his face, hiding any would-be glance towards the clearly unwell being.

This body would give out, but in a few hours.

"You will die," said Velok, slurping from the ladle and peering at those welding goggles, "like most people. You'll die today, and not at my hands. And after you die, your life will be only one-third your own, no matter how many walls you build. I have no idea what any of that means, but I feel certain it's true. Well, maybe one-quarter your own. Depends who has first claim on half, I suppose. Halves of halves? You're split at least two ways, and that is probably not a euphemism."

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"I do wonder what we have there, Archie? I do hope it's a public execution," I smirked whilst changing directions in favor of discovering the concept of this commotion.

Just now, Velok was engrossed in a particularly kinetic and flamboyant fortunetelling towards a quartet of workers, all of whom scarpered immediately as Darth Moskvin and her avioid familiar approached. Ah well; at least they'd paid in advance. Velok, who was standing, spat a mouthful of flaming sorcerous glop off to the side and bowed low. "I see your future," he said seriously. "You see through your mother's eyes, friend, as much as she through yours, and your time will be much less short than it should be. You will see more than so many of your kind. You ride astride a monster called empire, but are you the pilot or a simple passenger? Ah, there's the crux of it, and all depends on how you use your claws."

He offered a big smile of metal-capped broken tusks and looked from the raven to the vampire.

"And I can tell your fortune too," he said to Moskvin.

 

[Mercy]

It was by coincidence that Mercy spotted Velok's kiosk from the corner of her eye as she marched down the street with something resembling purpose. She paused and smiled as she read the sign and then looked up at the huge Whiphid behind the booth.

"Good day, Velok." Nostrils flared at the soup being made, Mercy licked her lips. The last time they had met, he created a soup for her made from a limb of a carnivorous tree. Since that time she constantly felt hungry. She had to eat a lot. Which she did now, as she pulled out another nutritional bar and started chomping down on it as if all their lives depended on it.

Maybe it did- she never did put to the test what the tree-hivemind would do if she didn't feed herself.

She looked a touch different from their first time. Back then she had been a hunted acolyte with more brawn than brain. Now she was a Knight with a weird arm that acted on its own accord, a ferocious appetite and still more brawn than brain.

"Last time we chatted your gift made me very hungry." But she didn't seem to find fault with him about it. "Mind sharing my fortune with me? I do wonder what my future has in store for me."

Velok always seemed to have a way of making her life more interesting.

Velok Brokentusk

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Last time we chatted your gift made me very hungry." But she didn't seem to find fault with him about it. "Mind sharing my fortune with me? I do wonder what my future has in store for me."

"I hope the upside's been sufficient," he said with a steel-capped smile, flashing back to the twitching Drengir arm she'd had him stew up. "A simple telling I can do. Any more than that - well, even old customers get what they pay for, n'est pas?"

He cupped the casting bones in his massive hands and threw them into a smoking bowl. These were his very favorite carved black-painted casting bones, from the nunas of his homestead in Firefist.

"You," he said, "will at no point, worlds without end, get a better haircut. This is a certainty."

 

[Christina Locke]

//: Velok Brokentusk //:

Adventure wasn't exactly as grand as some people had made it out to be.

Travelling the limited options for places to go on an ever thinning source of fungs. Seeing different faces and sounds. Moving forward without any aim of her own as she followed what work didn't require her to make herself a public figure. Taking a layover in Jutrand on the transits despite knowing it was probably the worst idea possible to be there.

Gerwald Lechner was probably still looking for her after slipping the leash of their first meeting. Or someone he commanded.

Wasn't her fault she could fiddle with whatever tech touched her.

Not that she had that great of control over it all the time but wanting to escape was a fine motivator for figuring out some basics. After finding something to tide over a growling stomach, she'd walked the streets with hands in her pockets until her eyes settled on the strange setup. A brow raised in disbelief as she rifled around for whatever could pass for payment. Was a fortune telling worth spending a bit more time on what was the sith capital?

Running the chit between her fingers as she sat down across from the behemoth and glared at him before setting it down.

"Will I run into anyone I know on this planet?" If she was gonna spend what little she had, she might as well spend it on something that would help her avoid trouble.

 

[Nova Dainlei]

Velok Brokentusk​

The boy already felt uneasy walking around this place.

Tensions were still high between the Jedi and the Sith. But that seemed to be a constant within the galaxy. Stars were shifting all around them. A cosmic event was taking place unlike anything he had ever seen before. Nova was hitchhiking his way from Ahch-To towards Naboo, where a friend of his resided. But when the frigate that was ferrying him rimward flew directly into a wave of stellar energy, the ship was thrown violently off course, marooning them on Jutrand. The pilot was kind enough to provide transport once more to Nova once his vessel was repaired. Unfortunately for the padawan, that would not be for another few hours.

Curiosity and boredom got the better of the boy. Wandering his way towards the city, Nova located a small area of market stands set up. He knew that Jutrand was the capital of the Sith Order, so any lightsiders here would surely be unwelcomed. So that is why he tried his best to hide his connection to the Jedi. This skill was only briefly taught to him at the Jakku Enclave, as much training and meditating was needed to become proficient in the ability. His attempt to disguise himself as a darksider was mediocre at best, but it was better than nothing.

A particular booth called out to him through the Force. Some sort of connection that he had yet to understand. Underneath the makeshift kiosk sat a large figure of a species unfamiliar to Nova. Fortunes were being offered for those that could afford it. While the padawan did not have many credits to his name, he did possess a few wares that may be of interest.

Ducking his head underneath the covering, Nova sat before the man. There was a sense of comfort and trust that he felt with the fortuneteller, though they had never met before.

"Hello, I was wondering if you could provide a fortune for me?"

Reaching into a small bag, the boy pulled out a small crystalline shard that rested in the palm of his hand. It was one of two pieces of a white dwarf remnant, having turned into this state thousands of years ago. Both of the shards were gifted to him by his mother and his father Okkeus Dainlei . They were blessed in the Force and given to him when he was sent off to train on Jakku. The first shard was to be used when Nova constructed his lightsaber. The second was to be used in a time of need, whenever the Force willed it. For the past few months, the boy has been stuck in a time on confusion, unsure where to go. Hopefully the Force would answer his call.

The second piece of the shard was set on the table before Velok, as payment for the fortune.

"I was hoping you could tell me anything about how my mother and father are doing. It has been a long time since I have last seen them, and I just worry for them and their safety. I...miss them, a lot."

Spoiler

Okkeus will be leaving on the Rishi Maze mission, but I have written out basically nothing in terms lore for Nova's mother or where she is, including her name. She is a Jedi and an explorer like Okkeus, but that is pretty much it. Feel free to go wild with any type of story that you would like to give her! I LOVE what you did with Okkeus' parents a few years ago, so I'd love to incorporate anything that you write into Nova's upcoming stories.

 

[Mercy]

"I hope the upside's been sufficient," he said with a steel-capped smile, flashing back to the twitching Drengir arm she'd had him stew up. "A simple telling I can do. Any more than that - well, even old customers get what they pay for, n'est pas?"

He cupped the casting bones in his massive hands and threw them into a smoking bowl. These were his very favorite carved black-painted casting bones, from the nunas of his homestead in Firefist.

"You," he said, "will at no point, worlds without end, get a better haircut. This is a certainty."

Mercy blinked there and raised a finger.

It was the eldritch finger so that was the exact moment she realized it was doing its level best to summon a Starweird into this place. She sighed and grabbed her hand to make it stop, sending an apologetic expression to Velok.

Sorry, you know how it is, kids and their little rebellions.

"The Drengir hive-mind soup was a bit more useful than that little nugget, but I guess you can't have them all. That being said, my hair is fabulous, thank ya."

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"Will I run into anyone I know on this planet?" If she was gonna spend what little she had, she might as well spend it on something that would help her avoid trouble.

The young humanoid seemed on edge enough that he couldn't quite get a read on whether encountering a known quantity would be good or bad. He pocketed the chit and made a good show of tossing the bones honestly.

"Unless you head straight for the port, you understand — yes, you'll meet someone." He squinted at the bones' carvings. "Someone...interested in you and...aesthetically satisfactory."

Which could absolutely be bad as easily as good. Plenty of rare weird powers around here were, by human standards, aesthetical.

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"I was hoping you could tell me anything about how my mother and father are doing. It has been a long time since I have last seen them, and I just worry for them and their safety. I...miss them, a lot."

Velok made that particular payment go away rapidly. As the visions took hold, he realized that Nova Dainlei was radically out of place. Perhaps even one of the interstellar travelers whose next leg had been nebulous enough that they might not have heard about the Blackwall in detail.

For this kind of payment, Velok explained surreptitiously that Nova was trapped in Sith space.

"You can see why telling your future might be difficult," he said. "When so many possible futures include imprisonment or death. Do you have a plan for your next steps? As for your parents..."

He decided not to verbalize that they were — clearly, in his visions — Jedi. Not on this world.

"Your father is almost as far away as I prefer to be, and about to be much farther in a way I can't pin down. I feel he will be...hungry. Hungry and somehow...backwards. He'll probably live. For now, he's safe, and that's all anyone can ask."

Perhaps a bit too much honesty for a fortune teller, but the visions were well and truly here.

"Your mother is less safe than him now and safer tomorrow. I see...prison bars high above a gray ocean. A red beacon. An iridescent feather twirling. Colorful, your mother. Yes. Unsafe now, but quite safe soon."

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

"The Drengir hive-mind soup was a bit more useful than that little nugget, but I guess you can't have them all. That being said, my hair is fabulous, thank ya."

Velok slurped from the cauldron and wiped his lip. "Well, de gustibus non est disputandum, as they say on Teta. How was the soup useful, in the end?"

 

[Mercy]

Velok slurped from the cauldron and wiped his lip. "Well, de gustibus non est disputandum, as they say on Teta. How was the soup useful, in the end?"

"To a Tetan, I'd respond: Gustus meus est poesis, tuus fortasse prosa." She responded without skipping a beat. Which might be a surprise since Mercy was a mountain-shaped meathead.

Except for the fact that she was born Tionese nobility. A fact she ran away from at every moment.

"I used the connection to lure a snippet of those carnivorous trees onto a planet I was trapped on. They gave me a good distraction so I could escape."

She didn't seem to particularly worry about what happened to the planet afterwards.