Atham'aali'kema
Happily forgotten
Location: Killing Fields
Objective: A - Ease the passing
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Braith Achlys"]
Equipment:
He wasn't an intellectual man, he couldn't even read basic. Though he was trying, the mysterious and beautiful [member="Eske"] was painstakingly trying. But like a rock soaking in water, the habits of the slayer were hard to break. Survival being one of them. Whereas his training had often been lamented by the Warrior Caste, it was indisputable in it's effectiveness. Like a Jeedia, they complained, the Slayer moved with the speed and acrobatic grace of the lightsaber wielding foe. In it's own way, the creation of the Caste was an attempt to mock the Jedi Order, to remind them that they weren't special, that even without the force, such feats were possible. And maybe, in the end, that was what moved Maalik. A willingness to prove something, anything. The scars across his armored skin would indicate an immunity to pain, the wounds this warrior would wield might prove his worth.
An object in motion, it stays in motion. And such was the case for the sword as it was dropped mid swing, hurling it into the distance. Such was the causality, that with an ever expanding distance between amphistaff and sword, it would have never pinned it in the first place. Instead it smacked the ground in hollow thump. The block was surprising, but not one that stopped the constant motion as he stepped to his own left, now free to move without worry of her using her weapon. shifting his strafe to the right. He was cognizant of the force, she had already shown the capacity to move things with it, the thought of the weapon would not leave his mind. A moment of silence would be met with vigilance. As the Chom-Huun beam hit the gauntlet, Maalik instinctively saw the opening of the chest on her left and rotated the attacking elbow and wrist to the outside, to his right. The attempt, of course, to strike the interior of her body and set her off balance at the least. It would seem her armor was well prepared against the energy beam, he would tire her and strike on the precipice of exhaustion. Simultaneously, he gestured to the amphistaff as he shot back to his palm.
When her hand lifted to hit, he assumed another block. But as the energy shot out and traced around the orange of the beam, he smirked as left hand flicked to the left. The amphistaff, like lightning of it's own, aimed a spray of venom towards the bottom of her helmet where the mouth opening was, before lunging to strike at the spot itself. In his own way, he was distracted as he felt the earth shift beneath his very feet. But what distraction he felt, she must have felt even more so, with such manipulation of the force. He was unattached, to the force that is, but he knew even a master had to split the mind to manipulate in such ways, especially in such rapid progression. Lightning was the bane of any Yuuzhan Vong, but this shift in the soil? Was she a God? He growled as his right foot stuck for just the moment, in the mud. I hate gods.
Objective: A - Ease the passing
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Braith Achlys"]
Equipment:
Chom-Huun
Amphistaff
Magma pebbles, Plasma eel
Thud bugs, Snap bugs
Slayer Hardened Skin
Armorweave robe
Amphistaff
Magma pebbles, Plasma eel
Thud bugs, Snap bugs
Slayer Hardened Skin
Armorweave robe
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09y8THtoqJc&spfreload=1
Maalik wasn't schooled, quite the contrary. What knowledge he had of the world, of the way things worked, was stripped from the bone by the transition from Chiss to Vong Slayer. Memories, knowledge, loyalty, decency, care. All things transplanted for the way of combat, for the instinct to survive to the brutal end, to not lament the loss of a foe but to celebrate the endeavor - a trait that didn't stick, he moved through the motions as a robot would. Ironic, given his developed hatred for technology. Even more ironic, given his origins.He wasn't an intellectual man, he couldn't even read basic. Though he was trying, the mysterious and beautiful [member="Eske"] was painstakingly trying. But like a rock soaking in water, the habits of the slayer were hard to break. Survival being one of them. Whereas his training had often been lamented by the Warrior Caste, it was indisputable in it's effectiveness. Like a Jeedia, they complained, the Slayer moved with the speed and acrobatic grace of the lightsaber wielding foe. In it's own way, the creation of the Caste was an attempt to mock the Jedi Order, to remind them that they weren't special, that even without the force, such feats were possible. And maybe, in the end, that was what moved Maalik. A willingness to prove something, anything. The scars across his armored skin would indicate an immunity to pain, the wounds this warrior would wield might prove his worth.
An object in motion, it stays in motion. And such was the case for the sword as it was dropped mid swing, hurling it into the distance. Such was the causality, that with an ever expanding distance between amphistaff and sword, it would have never pinned it in the first place. Instead it smacked the ground in hollow thump. The block was surprising, but not one that stopped the constant motion as he stepped to his own left, now free to move without worry of her using her weapon. shifting his strafe to the right. He was cognizant of the force, she had already shown the capacity to move things with it, the thought of the weapon would not leave his mind. A moment of silence would be met with vigilance. As the Chom-Huun beam hit the gauntlet, Maalik instinctively saw the opening of the chest on her left and rotated the attacking elbow and wrist to the outside, to his right. The attempt, of course, to strike the interior of her body and set her off balance at the least. It would seem her armor was well prepared against the energy beam, he would tire her and strike on the precipice of exhaustion. Simultaneously, he gestured to the amphistaff as he shot back to his palm.
When her hand lifted to hit, he assumed another block. But as the energy shot out and traced around the orange of the beam, he smirked as left hand flicked to the left. The amphistaff, like lightning of it's own, aimed a spray of venom towards the bottom of her helmet where the mouth opening was, before lunging to strike at the spot itself. In his own way, he was distracted as he felt the earth shift beneath his very feet. But what distraction he felt, she must have felt even more so, with such manipulation of the force. He was unattached, to the force that is, but he knew even a master had to split the mind to manipulate in such ways, especially in such rapid progression. Lightning was the bane of any Yuuzhan Vong, but this shift in the soil? Was she a God? He growled as his right foot stuck for just the moment, in the mud. I hate gods.