Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Ready or Not

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


A blanket of delicious darkness settled over the slums of Nar Shaddaa, coating everything in a layer of black so inky and thick you could almost feel it between your fingers. Even the moon could not seem to penetrate the clouds tonight. Its distinct lack of milky white glow gave way to shadows where none usually crept. Especially here, in areas where they couldn’t afford to keep the city lights blaring even through the bleakest of nights. Despite that, the streets were not empty. Drunks swayed back and forth across the roads on their way home. Groups of revellers lingered outside seedy bars and nightclubs, and there were far many more than just I taking advantage of the darkness.

It was, after all, the perfect night to go hunting.

I’d secreted myself in an alleyway, just across from one of the very few places that had managed to keep its lights on. There were a handful of disappointing potentials mulling around the entrance. Sipping from dented tin mugs and pulling at long gone cigarras. I knew my choices would be slim here. Anywhere on this oracle-forsaken planet really, but here especially. The slums of Nar Shaddaa were not exactly known for their extensive diets or healthy lifestyle choices. Anyone I picked from this crowd was likely to leave me dissatisfied, as hungry as when I had first begun. Which was why I had yet to make a move. I was patient. I could wait.

The minutes slipped by one by one. The wall behind my back was cold and somewhat slimy, but it was a welcome reprieve from standing. I picked beneath my nails lazily, gaze trained on my elegant hands. Looking anything but interested in the world beyond my little alley. If anyone were to chance by me, if they could see through the thick cloak of night I had wrapped around myself so easily, they would see my disinterest. Note the way I stifled a yawn as I flipped my hand over to inspect my nails from a different angle. Or the way my eyes seemed lidded, as if halfway between awake and sleep, but I was far from it.

Tendrils of darkness seeped from my body. Fine wisps of invisible smoke that twisted and wound through the streets, working themselves into every secret corner and hidden room. Seeking some better game way beyond the limits of my eyesight. It was so far fruitless, but I was not known for giving up. Especially when I was dominated by one thought and one thought alone. I was hungry. For far more than the sad-looking offerings humans regularly mistook as food. A feeling most could not ignore but I doubly so. I was always careful not to let it get the best of me. Not to let it fog my mind and force me to make a fool of myself, but there were days when even that was not possible.

My nostrils twitched, inhaling a scent brought to me on the tail end of one of those fine tendrils. Something… exquisite lurked not too far from me. Something tantalising that offered the kind of satisfaction I had never had the pleasure of knowing. The whites of my eyes widened as I pushed myself off the wall, pulling the edge of my black leather jacket taut. I sniffed again, drawing it deep into the depths of my lungs. I could almost hear the heartbeat it belonged to, could see the thready pulse of it against some unsuspecting neck. I could wait no longer.

Curling my lips into something both macabre and beautiful, I descended into the night. With the shadow of darkness whispering in my ear, to claim the heart that beat my name.
 

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NAR SHADDAA

In this part of the city, the powers that be really didn't give a damn. The only souls who wandered these places were beyond help. They were either drunk out of their mind or high off something cheap and disappointing. This was the scraping grounds, or so it was affectionately dubbed by the various cartels. This was where the organizations would find desperate men and put blasters in their hands. This is where the expendables were chosen.

Now, usually, such souls were in high supply. But, an anomaly had been occurring over recent weeks. When the cartels would come to replenish their lower-most ranks, they would find the usual haunts...empty. Or rather, they would find the expendables in a state that boggled the mind. The poor sods were dead, yeah. That wasn't a strange occurrence on Nar Shaddaa. The oddity was how. Every last one had their bodies drained of blood.

This wasn't a problem yet as the cartels had thousands they could call upon to die for them. But it was enough of a hassle having to distinguish dead bodies from drunk ones that one organization hired a man to look into it. It was a standard mercenary gig - poke your head in, find out what's sucking them dry, kill it, get paid. In and out. And being no stranger to putting a blaster bolt or vibroblade through the living, Jonah accepted the job.

So it was that he found himself in the scraping grounds, wandering the pitch black streets.

As he roamed, the man kept his senses and guard up. And so far, all he detected were the damned souls dragging their feet nearby. He was about to call it for this segment of the grounds when a chill raced down his spine. Jonah could feel it. The icy presence of the Dark Side. It was faint...but it was coming.

"Now we're talkin..."


 

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


"One..."

This was the thrilling part. The part that made my heart race. The part that I craved long before the hunger was dire enough to demand attention. It was this part that made me hungrier. That turned it from something I wanted to something I needed.

The hunt.

Following that trail, each step bringing me closer to something new and exciting, stirred something far more addictive than adrenaline in my blood. It was like this no matter the prey, and it was so easy to lose myself to the feeling. In moments like this I could tell why others before me had succumbed to it. The madness of it. With worthless nobodies like I had been picking off, I was all too willing to bend to it, but this time was different. This time I was facing something far more fun. Something that had the potential to test me.

"Two..."

I would have been a terrible fool not to acknowledge that anyone with that kind of scent, that kind of power, would know I was coming. Whether they called it intuition, a gut feeling, or simply fate, it mattered little, they would know. So it was that I found myself a little more cautious in my pursuit than usual. I leashed that ice-cold presence, that warning of my approach, and drew it close to me. Close, but not too close.

I would not allow it to announce me. Far from it. Yet some part of me remained that wanted them to know. I released just enough to cause a chill down their spine. To create that nagging feeling that someone or something was watching them from the darkness.

So that they would know that I was coming.

"Three..."

I kept my cloak of night wrapped closely around me. Clinging to the edges of looming highrises and alleyways where the shadows were thick and malleable. I hadn't had a choice cut like this for weeks. Or, if I was being entirely truthful, ever.

My nostrils were thick with it. The rich, heady scent that reeked of raw, unmatched power. This was game unlike I had known it before. The kind that I had been itching to play with long before Mother Dearest had released her grasp on me. I drew in another breath of it, filling my mind and body and soul with it. Until it felt like it was all I knew.

All I had ever known.

"Four..."


I wasn't sure how far I'd come. I wasn't sure where I even was. All I was aware of was the chase. It was only a few more blocks away. A few more turns. A few more footsteps. The strength of my greed growing and growing with the strength of the scent. My chest heaved with the effort of inhaling it.

I was dizzy with it by the time I was close enough to pounce.

"Five..."


I turned a corner as I pulled a long, slow, deep breath into my lungs. Drawing with it all the shadow and gloom and blackness until the lack of it all made the street seem to glow. I cracked a lopsided smile in the brief instant that I could see my target. I marked him in a moment, and in that same moment, I breathed out. The immediate area was plunged into a sudden, blinding darkness. A dark so black and eternal it almost seemed alive as it blanketed us both with its heavy presence.

"Ready or not," I whispered to that sweet thread of temptation lingering just out of reach. My fingers stretched until they brushed leather, cloth, and metal. Until they felt the fantom warmth of skin beneath the layers. "Here I come…"

 

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The target was good at hiding.

As Jonah moved about the streets, he had previously felt something that belonged to Shadow. He knew the presence of the Dark Side, for it had been the cradle that rocked him to slumber as a babe. He knew the slight flavor of metal on the back of his tongue as the taste of darkness. He knew the chill which raced down his spine as its touch. Every sense had been honed to recognize the blackest parts of the Force - for in that abyss was home. He was born to midnight incarnate. He called the primordial mother. And for that reason, whilst he walked in the valley of the shadow of death, he feared no evil.

For evil had birthed him.

Now, in the midst of his own hunt, the icy presence of darkness bled away. Or rather, was snatched away. The one behind the assaults was clever. It was not a base creature that ran amuck. No. Being able to withdraw its presence was a sign of intentionality. Thus, Jonah steeled himself all the more. He moved in a tight circle, keeping his eyes and ears open. Thus far, all he could hear was the sound of his breath and the crunch of his boots upon the city pavement.

Then there was light, followed by an eclipse.

It was as if all the shadow had been pried from Jonah's surroundings, only to be unleashed and magnified. The man whipped about for a moment, attempting to spy a glance of the one responsible. However, his eyes failed him. He could not see - but his instincts screamed that it was near. Thus, he summoned his own might and waited. Whatever it was wanted to make him the next victim. Wanted to drain him of essence and to leave him as a husk for the cartels to pry off the pavement. And soon, there was a whisper. A teasing, wicked voice punctuated by touch.

"Tag. You're it."

His own mirthless words fell from his lips as his might was made manifest. The creature had created a space of midnight around them. Jonah, in turn, created a space of pressure. Where most were satisfied with blindly shoving and yanking energies about, the man was far more intentional. From above, his pushed down telekinetically across a wide area, leaving his own form as the sole exception. Yet for those within proximity? It would feel as though the weight of the world was suddenly on their shoulders. Full grown men had been brought to their knees by this tactic when he applied it liberally.

And right now? He applied it with everything he had.


 

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


In that one instance, that one reaction, I knew I had chosen my target well.

He was just as fast as I was, and played just as boldly. Not like all the others I had chased, who had given up the moment they realised who and what I was. What I was coming to do. No, this was different. Better. This wasn’t one of the childish games I had played with all my previous prey. This was chess. A dalliance between two masters. An art form. The board had been laid, all the pieces standing to attention, and he had made his move with such precision and logic that I could not help but be impressed.

A heavy weight, unseen by any eye, pressed down upon me. My body threatened to sag with the effort of maintaining its posture. It was a clever move, but not clever enough. Many would be beyond broken by such a powerful move. It would snap and crush and grind until their bones were naught but dust. Until their bodies were empty husks, but I was not many. Pressure would not be my undoing - it would be my creation. As it had been for many years.

I allowed it to envelop me. Allowed myself to sink with the weight of it. I became it. Became that heavy force that filled the air around us until I was as much a part of it as he was. Until I could feel its ebb and flow, the way it shifted with the wind and flexed with the twitch of his muscles. It was a living, breathing thing. I could hear its heart beating in time to my own as it coursed through my veins, dominating me with its mass.

All at once, my body crumpled.

Yet where he would expect the sound of me thudding to the floor, there was nothing but silence. Silence, and a gentle puff of smoke and ash as my body faded into nothing. The darkness fell with me, not quickly, but slowly. It leached from the air around us. As though my body were a black hole, a vacuum that would not relent until it had swallowed it all. Leaving behind a bright spotlight amidst the gloom and grim of the slums.

Reacting quickly, in the hopes that he would have little time to think - I threw my focus into the receding shadows. Willed them to form under that pressure. To mould themselves into images mirrored after me. Some lingered for mere seconds, here and there again in the flash of an eye. Some were only there long enough to lash out towards him. Only to vanish mere moments before they could come close to touching him. Some stayed, almost tangible in their appearance. Pacing around him in slow, purposeful circles. My true form amongst them.

Reaching out, I grazed a painted fingernail across the side of his neck. Right where his pulse was strongest, and simply begging to be tasted. So lightly it could have been a gentle breeze, or the whisper of a feather, or a lovers kiss.

"Your move,” I crooned sweetly as several of the facades lurched towards him as one.​

 
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This one was tricky.

For just a moment, Jonah spared a thought about how the Hutt Moon was not at all like he expected. In his short time being here, he had encountered not one - but two beings who made hunting an art style. He had anticipated that such a lawless planet would be home to all sorts of crazies and creatures, but this was an entirely different ball game.

And speaking of entirely different, his opponent's form did not hit the ground as he anticipated. When last he used this tactic, there was a thud of body meeting pavement. It was even more satisfying when the target was wearing armor of any sort, as there would be a clatter that just brought a smile to the man's face. But in the case of this foe, whose voice was distinctly feminine, there was no such sound. Rather, he could feel the Dark Side erupt from where her form was supposed to fall.

He could feel the change and the air. He witnessed once again as the darkness was concentrated to a single point, bathing their battleground with an eerie spotlight. Jonah's sunglasses allowed him to see and focus despite the brightness, and thus he saw clearly when the shadows began to morph themselves into the target's form. There were so many out of the blue. So many that were hiding the real adversary. And, cockily, the mark touched his neck. It was his move?

Game on.

Jonah briefly crossed his forearms before his eyes, mustering power once more. He then shot his arms out on either side of him, as if to shove two of the spectres away. The Force responded to his demand, unleashing a telekinetic dome which exploded forth in all directions. Like his previous assault, this carried more than enough fury to send a man flying off his feet. And as the man made this attack, his words were that of a question.

"Why?" he began. Jonah had met an Elder of the Dathomiri Witches. He had contracted for a Sith Lord who held a planet in his fist. He worked daily with a huntress who could rip through an army. This adversary was cut from the same cloth in his brief assessment. Yet they preyed upon the drunk and the lost? Something wasn't adding up. "You can do all of this, but you hunt the destitute? You could be a god, but you settle for scraps? Why?"


 

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


The onslaught of duplicates kept coming. One after the other after the other. Dissipating into smoke and ash as their ghostly appendages grasped and flung themselves at him. I stayed on the edges. Pacing. Watching. Waiting. For that perfect moment that would finally see me satisfied.

A sudden boon in the force made my brows knit together. What was he planning? I watched him draw his arms tight into his chest. Felt a sudden surge of power, a shift in the atmosphere that had me bracing. Against what? I wasn't sure yet. It was difficult to be prepared for the unknown, but I prepared myself anyway, just in time. His arms shot out violently like a bolt from a blaster. Sending out a wave of power and destruction that not only demolished any remaining facades but cracked the pavement beneath our feet and shattered any unfortunate windows in our vicinity.

I only barely managed to throw a shield up. It was haphazard, at best. I still felt the wave slam into me. So hard that I stumbled a few steps backwards and had to catch myself with some delicate footwork. It was pure luck that I didn't end up eating concrete for my dinner instead of him. I was breathless, and not because the dome had literally stolen it from my lungs. I was… excited. Here was a man who could crush a man into dust, flatten cities, destroy worlds. My heart beat a heavy staccato rhythm against my ribcage as I locked eyes with him across our makeshift battlefield. My lips parted, spreading into an uneven smile.

Impressed didn't even begin to cover it.

His question made me cock my head, almost bird-like in the movement. I could have used this as an opportunity to take that moment I had been waiting so patiently for, but I didn't. Couldn't. If there was one thing that had always overridden the blood lust when it became far more than a need, it was curiosity.

Why what?

"A god?" My shrill, discordant laugh filled the air. "Please, don't insult me. What a terribly dull existence that would be. They waste their days languishing in their omnipotence. Never challenged. Never curious. Never learning. What could a god know of the thrill of a hunt? What could a god know of the taste of victory? What could a god know of desire?" I waved my hand flippantly as if to wave away such a ridiculous notion. Yet, with that answered, the reality was left behind. Why was I chasing such poor prey? Wasting my time on unworthy sacrifices? In answer to that, I shrugged. Casually.

It wasn't difficult to answer. I had been trapped in the Temple for my entire life. I needed experience. I needed to hone my skills. I needed… "Practice."
 
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Jonah squinted against the abysmal lighting of their battlefield.

His telekinetic assault had done its work. The phantoms that were conjured by his target had disappeared. What's more, the one at the heart of it all was now standing with her back to the wall. Jonah, too, could have capitalized, but his own curiosity held him at bay. The man kept his weapon and awareness ready, just in case there was any fuckery. Yet the shrill laughter of the woman heralded an answer to his question.

The man shook his head ever so slightly.

"Your perspective of godhood is very narrow." he began. "But I will put it to you plain. You have so much power. So much raw talent. But it is wasted here. You talk of the thrill of the hunt? Of knowing victory? Of desire? Yet you are a wolf preying upon wounded lambs. How can you learn anything from this?"

Jonah took a bold step forward. He could feel the Dark Side raging through his mind. He had felt this way once before, when a lost healer was shattered by the presence of his mind. He allowed the darkness to dance upon his tongue, making his own desires manifest in word. "I can show you the way of the Hunt. I can show you how to master victory. And through victory, the chains which see you - a marvel - stalking the weak will be broken."

The man took a dangerous step forward. Lightning crackled above, as if the very heavens were responding to his will. "Follow me and I will sate your desire. Oppose me and you will only be a memory."

"What. Say. You?"



 

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


Though I had marked him earlier before our battle had even begun, this was the first time I truly saw him.

My silvery white gaze was firm and yielding as it travelled up and down his body. Once. Twice. Three times. Every pass drinking in something new and interesting about his form. He was taller than I was, by a good few inches. If I were any closer I would have had to look at him through my eyelashes. His body was a subtle type of muscular, well hidden by thick layers of clothing. I couldn't see his eyes. They were shaded by glasses that only reflected the scenes he saw, giving nothing away of his opinion or expression.

He was still on edge, fingers hovering over a well-concealed weapon. As was I. Though my form was far more relaxed, my muscles still twitched at the sight of his caution. Reacted instinctively to a threat that I wasn't quite sure was a threat anymore. It was rare for a hunt to turn into a conversation, but despite the glasses, I could see the cogs whirring in his mind. No doubt that particular part of him was as honed as all the rest, and it was thinking. Hard. Despite everything, I found I had patience for that too.

When my patience was finally rewarded, I scrunched my nose. It felt far from an actual reward. He diminished me. Reprimanded me for my choice of prey. I could only scoff at him, crossing my arms one over the other and turning my head away. But it was only for a moment. Movement in my peripheral vision made me snap back to attention.

He was closer now.

I could smell it. Smell him. Smell the dark side.

It mingled with his own scent until the two were one and the same. Until it smelled more tempting than it had at any point during our heated battle. All of its own accord, my chest took a heaving lungful of it. Until it coated my nose and tongue with a deliciousness that almost made my mouth water. My teeth sank into my lower lip and bit down. Hard enough that the small hurt forced my focus away from that scent and back onto him, onto the words brewing beneath all that power roiling in his veins.

Over the course of my life I had been surprised more than once, but this was the most I'd ever felt the emotion. I peeled my teeth from my lip, and it came away blood red. "You offer to teach me?" My fingers flexed against my arms as a thousand thoughts rushed through my head all at once. I did not hesitate with a decision, I knew my answer immediately. I hesitated with the potential. The doors this kind of offer could open for me. The power that I would gain. The knowledge I could learn. The overwhelming promise in such a future made me pause to appreciate.

But still, I wasn't an idiot. "What's your price?"
 
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The initial response to Jonah's words were that of a resounding dismissal. He watched as the woman folded her eyes and turned away her gaze. Were the circumstances less deadly, the move might have been amusing to the man. However, as the choice was laid before her, there was a change. Jonah could feel the contemplation running through her mind. Her hunger was almost palpable. The Darkness was yet alive between them.

Of course, the woman asked a logical question. The choice between tutelage and damnation seemed easy enough to make, but in this world there were always strings attached. Especially on the Hutt Moon. Jonah offered a slight nod, acknowledging the wisdom of her questions. It would have been foolhardy, danger be damned, to not know what she was signing up for. Would she be learning, or serving? Jonah offered a confident grin.

"My price is partnership." he began. The terms echoed the understanding shared between he and his partner-in-crime Leven. "You will not be a slave under my tutelage. You will not bow before anyone, be it Sith, Jedi, or literal gods. Me included. You will not call me Master, nor will I refer to you as Apprentice."

"We will learn many things, fight many battles, and explore many worlds - and I expect that we collaborate on all things. I may lead, but your voice will always be heard. Your desires will always be considered. We fight the Galaxy, not each other. Our victories are shared. Our blunders are collective lessons."


Jonah took another step forward. His dominant hand extended - the offer made manifest.

"I aim to make a lasting mark on this Galaxy. Join me and add your brush to the canvas."


 

Viviane

ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ
NAR SHADDAA
MIDNIGHT


It was a captivating promise. Almost too good to be true.

A partnership could mean many things. My stance may have been overly cautious, perhaps too much so, but a moment ago I was ready to drink him dry. Not only was he a stranger, he had almost been dinner. I was ready to destroy this slum, injure countless innocents, maybe even be damaged myself. Just to have a taste. Now I was genuinely considering an offer to learn from him, work with him.

I could see the picture he painted in my mind. The days that would stretch into months that would stretch into years. Years of unchecked and unchallenged chaos created at the tips of our fingers. Power that would shake the galaxy to its core and change the face of the universe as we knew it. Together we would cast such a shadow that every world we went to would live in darkness until we permitted light. It was a tempting image, far more tempting than anything I could have dared to envision achieving alone.

Yet I still listened carefully. To his words and the meaning he weaved between them. It was barely there. I almost didn't notice it. I was part way to agreeing, my lips itching to agree, when I finally caught a glimpse of it. A thin thread of suggestion buried beneath promises that made my eyes narrow and my caution grow. Once I was aware of it it was difficult to ignore. There was something else to this deal, something more that he wasn't willing to share as openly as his dreams.

"You are very convincing." I began, not hiding the smirk that crept onto my lips. "How could anyone pass up such an enticing opportunity? You speak as if the galaxy is already yours. As if it always has been. But…" I cocked my brow, the smirk on my face disappearing until there was nothing left but stone-cold porcelain. "You do not speak only for yourself." I finally finished, in a tone so blunt it hacked at the conversation messily.

I would know the whole truth before signing my name and my life away to his or anyone else's cause. "There is another?"

 

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