Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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One Of Many

Coruscant was as orderly as it had ever been.

Cyril had came to the world to prepare for his declaration of Kaggath. He planned to scout out the Dark Lord's palace, to find whatever weaknesses his men might exploit in the coming battle. He would not lose the battle with Arcis. To do such would be to betray everything he now stood for. He would reclaim his title soon enough.

He walked with purpose through the streets of the upper levels. He wore Darth Vulcanus' lightsaber openly on his hip, the massive weapon looking too big for him. He wielded the weapon like a claymore rather than a traditional blade, and the black core suited him well enough. More importantly, it kept people away.

He hid his presence within the force well enough, though it had never been his greatest talent. Here and there, traces of his walk through the market could be picked up by the wary. Shielding himself from protection was an ability he would need to nurture when he found the time.

Perhaps once he had the Dark Lord's head at his feet.

He rounded one corner, then another, keeping pace with nothing but his own mind. In truth, he was allowing himself the walk to clear his head. The Dark Side was once again his ally, and his was a quiet fury; ready to be unleashed when the right time came. He was relearning that these moments of peace were something to be cherished amidst the chaos.

Taking a sharp turn, the fallen Jedi Master strolled down one of the district's many alleys, his thoughts on the starport just up the road. It was there he would rent a ship to make a roundabout of Coruscant and find a way aboard Arcis' ship.

It took a conscious effort to keep the spring out of his step.

[member="Nox"]
 
Death Dealer. Murderer. Wet Worker. The Rich's Soldier. All of these terms were technically accurate when describing Nox Tahlee, but there was one she preferred more than those: Assassin. Whether that was for the Sith or some other group was frankly irrelevant; she was after power, nothing more. And for now, the Sith were the ideal place for that. But that thin loyalty was easily broken, with the right proposal.

At the moment, the Sith Assassin was stalking a one [member="Cyril Grayson"], Jedi Master, and enemy of her Sith masters. So she walked through a marketplace, tracking the trail of the distinctive Light he left behind. The young woman was many things, but varied was not one of them. Her one talent in Force use was her ability to hide it, to mask her presence. Though her attire might reveal her true origins to any paying attention, most Coruscanti knew to stay out of Sith business after several years of occupation. Beneath her hood, corrupted eyes burned, waiting for the chance to savor the death of her quarry. Perhaps such a thought was arrogant, was Nox was not known for being humble.

There.
She spotted him. Turning into an alley, wearing a large lightsaber on his hip. How brazen. Her anger at a Jedi of all things walking openly among the superior Sith. She loaded one of her crossbows, a simple durasteel bolt tipped with a paralyzing poison. She wanted to watch him die, to make it slow.
She took a moment to gather herself, to prepare her mind for the coming hunt. Then she pulled the trigger, and the bolt sailed down the alley, at his back.
 
Cyril came to a dead stop in the middle of the alley. Something was wrong, and the force whispered warnings as the edge of his mind. He went rigid for a moment; his fingers twitching at his lightsaber. Instinct drove him to pivot on his heel, and the bolt flew right through the spot in the air he had previously occupied. Blue eyes narrowed as he watched it impale itself deep into the side of a building.

"I had no idea I had grown so popular," he mumbled in quiet displeasure. While he could not pick up his assailant within the force, he could make out her figure at the end of the alley.

She had almost managed to kill him. Almost.

His lips parted in silent amusement, and his hand rose up toward the woman. He focused on her, allowed her to become the sole target of his mind's eye, and pulled backward. The telekinetic force was particularly strong; the intent to bring her reeling down the alley toward him. Had she not been alone, a counterpart could have easily dispatched him. As it were, Cyril fancied himself entirely in control of the situation.

"If you're interested in me, all you need to do is say it. I understand you might be feeling shy, but the least you could do is try and shoot me to my face."

[member="Nox"]
 
Damn. His reflexes were a bit better than Nox had anticipated, and her first bolt missed. She was caught so off guard, in fact, that she was unprepared for his counter. She was in the middle of reloading her crossbow when his telekinetic force reached her. The bolt clattered to the ground, as well as her crossbow, and she tumbled down the alley, giving a small yelp of surprise.
Dammit, she needed to think quickly. She was not going to die in alley on this dump! But what could she do? Her quarry was fast approaching, and her main weapon was on the other end of the alley. But that wasn't the only weapon she had, anymore.
Acting quickly, she flexed her hand, activating the Sith Hidden Blade on her forearm, the weapon that marked her as a Sith Assassin. Nox reviled most modern technology, and the alchemised weapon provided a decent alternative for quick battles; the blade itself for attack, the bracer for defense.
From her tumbling view, she saw her quarry approaching, and aimed the blade at him, intending to stick him in the thigh, if he did not dodge. Either way, she braced herself for the impact when she stopped moving.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]
 
This one was tenacious.

Cyril felt a private moment of triumph as the girl went tumbling. It seemed his capacity for the use of telekinesis had not yet worn thin. He did not, however, expect her to move in on the attack so quickly. The blae came down toward his thigh. Had he truly wanted to, he would have twisted out of the way, though he felt the blade might have pierced him if he did so. He had dealt with the assassins before. He knew of their fascination with poisons.

He would not be giving this stranger the satisfaction of injecting him with such a thing.

He pulled his leg up hard. The blade clashed with hard durasteel worn beneath his outer clothing - a remnant of the Jedi Lord armor he had worn while commanding the forces of Ession.

A cold hand with bones of steel and veins of circuitry reached out to grab the girl's collar.

"Some would consider attempting to assault me on your own unwise." He cracked a thin smile. "Your name, girl?"

[member="Nox"]
 
Nox let out a choked gasp as he grabbed her collar, jerking her out of motion. Dammit. He had managed to actually catch her. But instead of killing her, he asked her name. Interesting. Still somewhat struggling, the Sith searched her quarry's face. It was not a face of cowardice, something she had come to associate with Jedi. No, it was the face of a man who was planning something, something tremendous. Something that would change things. People with such plans often did not bother themselves with letting attackers live, unless they needed something.
Very interesting.
Cautiously, Nox let down the block of her Force presence, allowing her quarry to sense her Dark Side aura.
"If you must know, prey, my name is Nox. I was sent to kill you, though I appear to be failing at that."
She stopped struggling, her sickly yellow eyes glittering with curiosity.
"Though I am confused as to why I am still alive."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]
 
Mephirium could not help but bark a quiet laugh. He was prey then? He held her up by the collar for a moment, memorizing the lines in her face. He could have killed her, on that she was correct, but he truthfully had no reason to. Powerful as he might consider himself to be, there was still a grave needs for allies. Even those who had not dabbled long in the powers of the Dark Side.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?" He asked with good humor, slowly lowering the woman down and relinquishing his hold upon her collar. They were going to talk like adults. If she tried something else, he was confident he could hold her off long enough to draw a blade.

That was, of course, simply an assumption.

"Who has sent you, my dear?" He lofted a brow and folded his arms over his chest, "One of my old enemies, perhaps, or were you just out hunting?"

Blue eyes twinkled with curiosity, though he did not let her finish. "I am a Sith Lord. I'm afraid you might have mistaken me for someone else."

[member="Nox"]
 

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