Populate The Message | Sith Order Populate of Anoth

[Soldane Talon]

Fifth Cohort Barracks​

Jutrand Academy​

902 ABY​

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It had been only a week since their ranking ceremony. Half the faces they once saw had been removed, because they hadn't made the cut. Those who had, who hadn't excelled, now lived in the slums of an academy that held more wealth than half the world collectively did. The Fifth Cohort, filled with the rejects and the failures, had a room barely cleaned and barely furnished. Bunks with a single burlap sheet were given to each, alongside a pillow made of actual straw. All in an effort to make them uncomfortable, remind them of their place.​

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64 students lay in their beds, most trying to sleep. Some spent their nights trying to read under their blanket with subtle candle light, while others cried to themselves. This room, these conditions, this was not what many of the nepotistic Sith had grown up with. They had expected to place higher, to earn more, but they had failed their families each in their own way, and now they paid that price.​

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There was no electricity in the room, no harsh white lights to warn them that their self pity and sleep would be interrupted. Candles burned in a few distant parts of the large room, but it wasn't enough to show the doors that were unlocked by an unknown shadow from inside the room. The chain fell, heavy as its bolt clattered on stone. Some woke from this alone, but many had drained themselves with their training. They slept even as over a dozen armored and armed students rushed in.​

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Those closest to the doors were struck first. They were beat in their beds, broken and busted before they could do anything. Some students behind the main line quickly moved to grab whatever goods they could, then ran from the room - only to return a moment later for their next haul. Quickly, the room descended into chaos as the students jumped from their beds and struck at whoever they thought was their enemy.​

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Without identification, their enemy became everyone. The Fifth Cohort had been attacked in a raid, and even amidst that violence they turned on themselves like wild dogs. A coordinated strike cut through a riot even still. Screams over took the silence, even as the distant Prefects watched from the quiet solace of their surveillance rooms. Watching as students began to cull the herd.​

 

[Soldane Talon]

Tag | Open​

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Soldane had spent his days deep in study, deep in practice. His body ached when he had returned to the barracks late, only to be welcomed by a burlap rug for a blanket and a bed that poked him every time he moved. Even still, despite the cries and anger in the corners of the room, he had thought of it as a cloud. He fell asleep almost instantly when his head hit the pillow.

He didn't awake when the chain fell from the door. Not when the first students were beaten within an inch of their lives, and not even when the chaos had begun to stir the entire room into a frenzy. He tried to wake up, groggy and blinded by dreams still fighting for dominance. For a moment, as his eyes opened, he thought he was sleeping even still, but it was a hand over his mouth that forced him into reality. Into the waking world.​

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" Darth Carnifex sends his regards, trash."​

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Haru?​

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The student had a crazed look in his eyes, yellow and sulphuric. They seemed to glow just like his crooked smile as he suddenly start to slam his fist over and over into Soldane's stomach. They were heavy handed, they felt weird. He wasn't hitting with his knuckles - but he didn't have time to think about it as adrenaline surged through his muscles.​

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His hands ripped up - one to grab the attackers striking wrist, and the other on the hand that held his mouth. A twist of his leg and he dragged the boy off him into a crucifix held by his legs. Quick, violent, he broke one wrist and moved to stand. It was instinct - but the sensation of bone snapping under his strength startled him. He had only ever done it on accident - but in this moment, in this fear, he couldn't stop himself.​

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The room was chaos, he had to survive. He had to find Lunaria Talon .​

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It was then as he tried to take a step forward that his knees gave out on him. He fell to the ground, sucking on a breath that wouldn't come. Something pooled around him, but in the darkness he couldn't tell what it was. Something sticky. Something that smelled of copper. Someone's life essence, he realized.​

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Was it the attackers? He hadn't done that, had he?​

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He looked back up to the student, the attacker, but he saw no blood. His attacker got off the bed, grunting in pain as he moved to find a combat stance - to finish Soldane off. It was then he saw it...​

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The glint of obsidian formed into a small dagger, slick with blood.​

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His.​

 

[Aerik Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Soldane Talon | Open

The commotion of the academy had been something the Lechner triplets had to get used to. It was not the same as the sounds of a forest at night, or a city which never slept. Their hearing had to adjust to the new sounds which they would be required to filter out in order to fall asleep. They had not fully done that in a week. Instead they often pretended to be sleeping when they were hard at work discerning all the sounds which they needed to learn. It was a good thing they were used to training on little sleep.

It wasn’t the noise which caused Aerik to stir. The attack was something they needed to be ready for at all times. Their father had told them to be ready. Darth Carnifex had said they would be tested at all times. None of them knew what that would look like, but when the room was hit, it did not come as a surprise. This was not the time to hide their strength. Even though it was every student for themselves, Aerik was not about to sit idle while the fifth cohort was picked off.

Students began to fight students, but something about it all did not add up. Why would those in the fifth cohort try and eliminate themselves when better prizes, better rooms, belonged to those in the higher rankings. They were the ones with the target on their backs, unless there were others like the triplets hiding in lower ranks and mediocrity.

Blood, the room was filled with the distinct smell of iron. While none of them had experienced their first change, all the pups knew the smell of a fresh kill. Their father had taken them hunting many times to get used to the sights and smells of death. They would be the instrument of it themselves one day, but until then, Gerwald wanted them to know what it looked like.

Was he desensitizing them to it?

Yes.

Tonight it would come in handy. Aerik could smell the source of it, and moved toward the bed where it came from. Others attacked him as he made his way to the blood, but each found themselves tossed aside like a rag doll by one of the Lechner children.

“It’s about time we didn’t have to hide,” Kole said as he pushed an assailant into the wall.

A sickening crack could be heard as the body collided with the duracrete.

“We have to keep each other alive.”

Aerik nodded.

“Watch my back. Someone needs help, and I want to see who it is.”

His siblings nodded in reply. Keeping them in the same cohort may have been a mistake for whoever handed out the rankings, but it was better than they could have hoped for. Had they been split up, it would have made their time at the academy more difficult. In this instance, Aerik knew he had two he could trust explicitly with his life. Not everyone could say that. The fighting around them was proof of it.

One of the attackers came straight at Aerik, a knife in his hand. The pup stepped aside and grabbed the wrist of his attacker. It broke with the force of Aerik’s grip. The boy screamed as he looked into the orange eyes of the Nox Lupo. It was kill or be killed, so without hesitation, the pup drove the knife into his would be killer’s heart. He would have left it there if not for the fact he needed a weapon.

For the moment he pushed it into his belt. It would be needed several times before the night was out. What he did not expect to find was to find one of the Echani twins with a dagger sticking out of him. That was problematic for a couple of reasons. First if the dagger was removed it was possible the kid would bleed out depending on what it hit. The second issue was it seemed that the attacker, while stunned and in pain, was not dead yet.

“Kole… that one.”

Aerik pointed out the assassin. He could keep him busy while Aerik went to the Echani.

“Are you okay? Can you still fight, or do you want me to look at it?”

 

[Firrerreo]

They were settling. All of them were settling.

Firrerreo hated the idea of settling. Even he had gotten used to his position above. The food was delicious. The room, exquisite. Even his clothing felt like heaven to wear. For a street rat orphan like him, this was everything and more to him. What more could he ask for? What more would he strive for? Power, it turned out. A poisoned meal brought the somber realization that while above, he didn't have the power yet. Didn't have respect or fear. He was playing rich, not actually rich.

He was nothing if he didn't strive for more. If he settled.

So, he sought to stop settling. Someone had poisoned him. It didn't matter who, really, but someone had sought to remove him already. A no named boy with a no named sponsor, fourth of the First Cohort. He'd want to poison himself all things considered. But now, well.

It was easy enough to set in motion. People were keen on settling with their comfortable ranks in the second and third cohorts. They'd seen now how the fourth lived. How the fifth lived. No one wanted that for themselves, and they all knew that for someone to go up in rank, someone else had to go down. Find those who didn't want to loose their rank more than they wanted to grow. Those that feared being put in the fifth more than their desire to be in the first.

Recruit them.

Turned out there were a good enough number. Enough that those who either didn't care or were looking to head up knew they couldn't stand alone against the group that had formed. When the call came? Most joined for fear of being the one to stand against this group. And the assault came. Quick, in the middle of the night. Ruthless and brutally efficient.

Firrerreo was pulling the strings of course, behind the scenes for the most part. Student on student violence could lead to quite the amount of trouble if someone died. He didn't want that sort of attention from the other sponsors yet, but..

Some of those ripped from their beds were brought to him directly. Those that matched the description of the scoundrel that was likely to have poisoned him. He sat with some of the others, looking over each that arrived with a slight frown. He said nothing, only gave a nod for them to be beaten before thrown back to the others. It didn't matter who had tried to poison him. They'd made sure they wouldn't be found.

They hadn't settled, and in turn, gave him a lesson to not either. Now he was going to return the favor. All around them were the very people who were content to settle, listening to his orders simply because he was the First Cohort. Let the Fifth rise up to challenge the First. Otherwise, he'd never grow further. None of them would, would they?

"Take what you want from them. Remind them of their place. Remember, though, no unapproved killings."

He stood once the last of his little list was thrown back into the chaos. What happened next mattered little to him. And, as ever in the shadows, his Familiar was keeping an eye out just in case someone would finally choose not to settle. The group with him, though? Not so much. They grinned an eager grin to throw their weight around and make themselves feel bigger by crushing those below them. That was fine, though. The message would be sent.

No more settling.

Soldane Talon | Aerik Lechner

 

[Karok]

Frenemies: 5th Cohort, Soldane Talon Aerik Lechner
Foes: 1st Cohort, Firrerreo

In the pitch-black barracks of the 5th Cohort, Karok stirred from his rest, feeling the familiar cold of the duracrete floor beneath him. The small lockers lining the walls held what little belongings the acolytes had, and the beds—little more than stiff pads with burlap blankets—remained unused by the young Gen'dai. For Karok, the hard, unforgiving surface below it was more of a comfort, a reminder of the cages he had once called home. Fuel for a inner fire.

The other acolytes had long learned to avoid commenting on Karok's peculiar habits. Whispers spread like venomous snakes, but they never reached his ears—no one dared speak ill of him within earshot, yet. His reputation for violent retribution was well-earned, with tales of his wrath quickly passing through the ranks. He needed no luxuries; fear was his sustenance, and it kept him warm.

As he lay there, the barracks suddenly filled in, a metaphysical draft cut through the stale air. It was subtle but unmistakable, a cold breeze that seemed to pierce through the oppressive darkness. Karok's senses instantly recognized the shift as additional heart beats. He felt them as if they were his own and it caused him to stir.

Then "draft" touched his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his own rage-fueled body. He understood what was coming—a challenge, a chance to remind his peers why they feared him. Slowly, deliberately, Karok rose from the floor, his towering form silhouetted against the faint candle light filtering through the open chamber. Then he heard the screams and panic of other students from far adjacent rooms.

The 5th Cohort barracks had become his domain. Was his to terrorize, his to steal from and his to do with as he pleased. So when the 1st Cohort students stepped foot in inside to do as they pleased, they had unknowingly spat on Karok's reputation.

Uba canta uba caiot nan don Mah baubokaga an paknee ata, kouikei an woy peee uba kolka?!!! Uba kark koochoo, canta maee!!!" His deep voiced boomed from the darkness. A chain or insults in Huttese.

 

[Irina Jesart]

The commotion was impossible to not hear, the first ripple of sound beggining with the quiet struggle of the first to fall to the raid, growing in strength as the rest of the fifth cohort came to life shouts erupting as fights broke out, the darkness making it hard to determine friend from foe.

Irina moved to the doors of the fourth barracks to watch, watch the occaional victor run past her hands full of whatever things they'd snatched. Couldn't be anything of true worth, not from the fifth...

She breathed a sigh out of her nose. Seemed like violence for the sake of violence, a disruption, one that the she had no doubt that the Provosts were content to leave to unfold. The first of many cullings. One hundred and twenty eight had entered the academy last week, but not all of them would graduate. Not all of them would survive. Pushing herself from the door frame she rested on she stepped into the night, toeing the ground as she went, plucking a handful of good sized pebbles from the ground.

She bounced one in her hand testing its weight before taking it between finger and them and launching it like a missle towards a retreating raiders head, propelling it with the force. It connected with his temple, the momentum of his run setting his unconsciousness from into a roll before he came to rest.

Effective enough, she decided, plucking a few more pebbles from the ground she began to move forward, launching them at all retreating from the Fifth Cohort barracks. Theives and raiders of nothing, wastrels. Why raid those who had nothing, when you could raid those who had everything?

 

[Matteo Guo-Yian]

Tag: Soldane Talon | Aerik Lechner | Firrerreo | Karok | Irina Jesart

He had gotten the bed that was the farthest from the door. Some had laughed about it because it meant traveling the most to their breakfast.

But Matteo had grown up in a compound like this. Maybe less brutal because his parents were around but they hadn't given him that many favors.

Only the right to leave every once in a while to meet with people outside.

That lived experience taught him to be as far away from the door as possible. When you were unconscious and helpless you didn't want to be reached easily. This meant that Matteo was awake by the time that the intruders pushed through half of the barracks.

Strangely enough Matteo wasn't afraid. He had expected something like this, but maybe not this quickly.

The First Cohort truly was bold.

"Fifth." He screamed as he scrambled from his bed, rolling out and onto his feet as he tried to see in the dark. Easier said than done but at least that lack of sight played against both sides here. "Stop panicking like a bunch of stupid nuna."

These were his peers. The ones that were closest to his potential but all he could smell was panic, fear and weakness.

It made his nostrils flare and a knife, oily and obsidian, appeared in his hand like stained ink.

"We have to karking fight for what is ours." He grabbed someone by the shoulder and yanked him towards him. It wasn't a Fifth, oh his luck, no Fifth would be wearing the Mask at this hour.

The First student didn't so much as laugh or insult him. He just immediately punched him in the stomach and threw him over his bed into the wall.

"Weak." The First muttered as he looked over the bed edge to find his victim again.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: OPEN //:

This was how it was supposed to be. The strong attacked the weak. Viers didn't fully comprehend the meaning behind the whole endeavor, but she went along with it. She had a place in the upper echelon of the academy for reasons beyond her. Out of everyone here, she cared the least for her placement or the Sith. To the young woman, survival was the most important second only to her mission. Fortunately for her, there were several that reeked of the Netherworld; she had caught wind during both of the ceremonies. Viers had to find it and return whatever bled through back to the hellscape.

Her ability to hide in plain sight was handy; she slowly wormed through the crowds that broke into fights. Her body weaved between a pair of acolytes that were attempting to stab each other. Killing had been beyond her, but she had found a knack for it after the trials. This wasn't the place or time for it, despite her desire to take out some that dabbled deeper into the necromancy arts. If it smells like Netherworld, it dies like Netherworld scum.

Viers mused as she continued to move through the corridors to the poor excuse of a room the 5ths were sleeping in. A part of her felt sorry for them having to sleep in such conditions. She would offer her soft bed, mostly because she wasn't the type to use it. The bed was too soft, but that could easily be changed. Despite the intentions of the others, Viers really wanted to see who was up to what. The 5ths would easily be desperate to rise in the ranks and susceptible to making deals with the otherworldly.

Sinking to her hands, she moved along the floor, cowering, invisible on the pads of her feet and hands. In this position, Viers could use the shadows to her advantage. Sniffing the air, trying to find traces of the force energy she had felt previously. Unfortunately for Viers, the traces were minimal, and none of the 5ths were at their breaking point yet. Cursing under her breath, she began to stand when suddenly someone made their presence known.

The girl reacted quickly, drawing the stave on her back and swinging it at the knees of whoever alerted her. Fading out of her invisibility cloak, Viers grinned and swung the stave again, following with a hooked punch towards their throat. The punch was heavy, solid, and infused with the Force. Before she struck, there would be a brief glow of the kyber crystals of her stave and the network of tattoos that adorned her body. The Force flowed through her, and she would prove why she was in the First Cohort.

 

[Karok]

Frenemies: 5th Cohort, Soldane Talon Aerik Lechner Matteo Guo-Yian
Other Frenemies: 4th Cohort, Irina Jesart
Foes: 1st Cohort, Firrerreo Viers Connory

Karok's eyes flared with raw fury as the first 1st Cohort acolyte lunged at him, wielding a vibroblade with deadly intent. The blade sliced through the air, aiming for his chest, but Karok didn't flinch. He let the weapon connect, feeling the cold steel bite into his flesh with a wide gash. The pain registered only for a split second before his Gen'dai physiology kicked in, rapidly regenerating the wound as if it had never existed.

Without hesitation, Karok's hand shot out like a battering ram, gripping the acolyte's wrist in a vice-like hold. With a sickening crunch, he crushed the bones with a single, powerful squeeze, forcing the acolyte to drop the blade. The attacker cried out in agony, but Karok silenced him with a brutal headbutt, the impact echoing like a drumbeat in the darkness. The acolyte crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the floor.

Another acolyte, emboldened by the darkness, attempted to strike Karok from behind, hoping to catch him off guard. The stun baton he wielded crackled with energy as he brought it down on Karok's back, the current coursing through the Gen'dai's body with flashes of blue light. But Karok didn't even blink, let alone let out more than a irritated growl. With a snarl, Karok spun around, allowing the attacker to get close enough to make his fatal mistake. Karok seized the acolyte's arm and, without a moment's pause, pulled him in, burying the limb deep into his own muscled torso. The acolyte's scream of terror was cut short as Karok flexed his pectoral and abdominal muscles, crushing the arm within the confines of his body. The sound of the hand and forearm bones popping filled the room like a sickening crunch as the acolyte's arm was mangled beyond repair, leaving him dangling limply from Karok's chest.

The Gen'dai released him with a casual flick of his wrist, sending the acolyte crashing into the nearest wall. The acolyte slumped to the ground, his arm a useless, a twisted wreck.

Another 1st Cohort acolyte, more desperate and smarter than the others, called upon the Force, hurling a wave of telekinetic energy at Karok. The blast hit him squarely, but instead of being thrown back like the others around him were, Karok was merely staggered back before his feet dug into the duracrete floor. He let out a guttural growl and pushed forward slowly, his sheer will out-enduring the acolytes repeated attempts to repel him with telekinesis.

The acolyte's eyes widened in fear as Karok closed the distance, shrugging off the continued assault of Force pushes and blasts. When he reached his target, Karok grabbed the acolyte by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The acolyte struggled, hands clawing at Karok's iron grip, but it was futile. Karok pulled the acolyte closer, driving the acolyte's legs into his own torso. The acolyte screamed as Karok's muscles tightened around his legs, bending, twisting and snapping bones with a slow methodical, brutal precision. The acolytes eyes rolled back in his head as he lost consciousness from the torturous affliction, and Karok unceremoniously discarded him, the broken body hitting the ground with a thud.

Fools. Was this really the best of the best?!

The young Gen'dai's body flexed and relaxed in sync. It mimicked the motion of breathing, despite his lack of lungs and other bodily organs. Focusing on the pain he had wrought he unconsciously dined on the untapped energy. Consuming the very essence. Black eyes shifted in their sockets to other potential victims and then settled on a more than prominent face.

The visage of Firrerreo across the room.

"Uba ye wanya koumhaptece bom bom unblemished bai doth du mah baubokaga! Karking nahca." He spat on the floor in front of him and began walking aggressively forward. Eyes consumed with ill intent.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Tag: Viers Connory

The night was a restless one for Eira. She had been training all day and her body was tired but she was studying the Jedi Lightsaber crystal she had successfully taken in her duel. She let her finger trace over the markings and the design of the Lightsaber crystal. It was not the way she thought that one would be like, however understanding the way it was connected to the Force, Eira was hoping it would bring some understanding to the previous owner of it. The Jedi was still alive and out there, Eira was determined to change that one day, but for now she needed to work on her skills. That duel had demonstrated how weak her physical prowess was, and with her current ranking as an acolyte in the academy, she couldn't let that continue.

She hadn't bled the crystal yet, it was still too foreign in the Light Side and she hadn't been able to find the power and hatred within herself to overpower it. Her lessons and living accommodations were not ideal for helping her in studying the method she needed to hone. Sighing, Eira couldn't believe she was still ranked this low and having to live like this. It was her own fault and she used the fury and self hatred to chase every opportunity to demonstrate her power she could but so far she hadn't been able to rise in number.

Eira was stuck.

When the ambush of the higher cohorts happened, she was still in bed, studying her Lightsaber crystal. She was not close to the door so was not one of the first to be struck. She jumped out of the stiff bed and onto her feet, holding the crystal firmly in her hand as she heard the cries of others as they were attacked. Hearing some attempting to defend themselves. Eira's mind raced as she wondered why the top ranked would bother attempting to attack those so far beneath them. Was this just a game to them? A way to entertain themselves? It seemed a little beneath the supposedly strongest and brightest in the academy but Eira didn't get too upset about it.

There was opportunity here. Accidents happened. Perhaps some of these upper cohorts get carried away and end up killing people ranked above Eira. No one could prove it was her and it would speed up her rise to power. And luckily she had been able to sleight of hand a knife into the dorm.

Moving through the beds and looking around, she tried finding the person she had seen who was ranked directly above her. Turning around a corner, she spotted the guy and then noticed Viers was nearby whacking someone. Eira tilted her head and was surprised to see the other student here, from their first meeting, Viers didn't seem like the time to go around beating people up. Focusing on 98, Eira stepped up to the guy and impaled him from behind with her knife, "no hard feelings." She whispered into his ear. Then stepped over the body and moved towards Viers.

"Surprised to see you here Viers." Eira spoke in her usual calm voice, "did that person eat your food or something?"

 

[Soldane Talon]

Tag | Aerik Lechner // Open​

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He had only been punched. He never felt the blade slide between his ribs, over and over. Even when it pierced his abdomen, he hadn't felt it. He swore he was just being punched - that the sting he felt was from carefully placed bruises. His Haru wouldn't send someone to kill him, would he? He wouldn't believe it, even as his blood rushed from the numerous wounds.​

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His teeth grit down tightly as he forced himself to his feet, but his stance refused to recover. The breath that refused to give turned into blood in his mouth, coughing and spurting up barely formed clots, perhaps pieces of viscera from the haphazard and vicious attack. Even still, the realization that his life was on the line forced him to focus through the pain, focus on the idea of survival.​

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He had to get to Lunaria Talon . If they came for him, they'd come for her.​

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With a weak grip, he moved to grasp the burlap blanket from his bed. He could wrap it around his hand, protect it from the blade. Maybe he could even use it as a weapon in itself. He'd seen fighting styles rely on whips - and while this wasn't nearly as robust as a whip, he could make due in the moment.​

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But a step forward, and his knee gave out again, and he fell to a hobbled stance on the floor, barely holding himself up with a single hand. It was the arrival of the Lechner dogs that forced his vision to blur slightly. He didn't like them, and he didn't want them around even now. He had to get to Lunaria.​

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There was a growing hum in his ears, mixed with the sound of his heartbeat. It was overbearing, and with it and the pain slowly forming in his gut he couldn't make out any of their words. They mouthed them, then got too close. Instinct over came him, and an elbow flew backwards to the nose of Aerik Lechner . It wasn't his full strength, but it'd snap bone.​

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They were all his enemy now. He couldn't trust any of them.​

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The assassin across from them still held the blade. His wrist had been snapped, so he switched the knife hand with a quick toss. His face was ghoulish in the low light, but he watched the triplets with a growing amusement as he held down the small pathway between the bunks - to a more clear line towards the doors.​

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"Whats the matter? Scared of a little blade?", he said, wiping the face of the blade along his own cheek. It made an already intimidating figure worse. This child before them had killed before, and it meant nothing to him. He would kill again.​

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Objective: Take advantage of the ruckus
Location: Outside of Forth Cohort Dorms
Interacting with: Nearby Adean Castor and hopefully soon Matteo Guo-Yian ... maybe Rosalia Aros ?

​

The plan wasn't subtle. It didn't need to be. The Firrerreo from the First Cohort, Fourth Rank, was making his moves -- recruiting openly, building his own gang from the lower Cohorts like a Sith lord assembling a crew of desperate teenagers. It was a blatant power play: join or suffer the consequences. A few spineless fools from the Fourth Cohort were quick to throw in with him, eager for the scraps of power or protection they thought aligning with him would bring. Weaklings.

The instructors watched without intervening, as they always did. This was the way of the academy: no coddling, no mercy. As long as no one got outright killed -- or at least not immediately -- it was all fair game. The unwritten rule was clear: if you couldn't survive a little brutality, you weren't cut out to be Sith anyway. Death was just the final exam you failed.

Soah could see through the Firrerreo's act. Why would someone from the First Cohort waste their time gathering underlings from the lower ranks? Maybe he was bored, or maybe he was testing the waters, seeing who might be worth grooming -- or crushing -- early. Or perhaps it was just some twisted way to flaunt his tiny empire before he made his inevitable rise in the Sith Order. It didn't matter to her. She wasn't interested in being part of anyone's gang, least of all his. She was here for herself, and herself alone.

Still, she couldn't help but think about some of the other acolytes who'd been dragged into this mess. She tried not to care, but a name lingered in her mind -- Matteo. He was from the Fifth Cohort, someone she thought might've been placed higher if the sorting had gone differently. If the Firrerreo's plan was real, Matteo might not make it out unscathed.

Then there was Rosalia -- No, ignore those thoughts, She thought to herself, feeling her inky black tattoos ripple across her skin, dark tendrils shifting into swirling shadows as her mind weighed her options; her one secret she'd kept to herself from the start. The dark being she had encountered in an ancient ruin on Felcat had latched onto herself as some sort of parasite. A shadowy creature that barely had any sentience from what she could determine, save for the bloodlust it seemed to crave. They had some sort of symbiotic relationship now; she fed it and it would offer some sort of protection. It was an advantage she was unwilling to let others find out so easily, making it appear as if they were simply tattoos she painted onto herself. Which is why she couldn't afford to be distracted by soft thoughts, not now. She had her own mission.

Concealed in the shadows, Soah's figure melted into the darkness. She'd been listening, waiting for the right moment. While the Firrerreo and his lackeys stirred up their chaos, she'd slip unnoticed into the First Cohort's quarters. A grin crept across her face at the thought of raiding the Firrerreo's personal stash. Let him come back to find his own things stolen from under his nose. If there was anything a Sith hated, it was being humiliated. And humiliation was something Soah was more than happy to dish out.

The shadows twisted tighter across her body, darkening until they were as pitch-black as the void itself, making her appear as if she had painted her entire body in black ink. Her smile was sharp, feral, as she silently pressed herself into the shadows of the corridor. If she was correct, the First Cohort apartments would be in this direction. The thrill of the hunt, the anticipation of leaving chaos in her wake -- it made her blood sing. For now, she'd let the Firrerreo play his little game, thinking he was in control. Soah had her own fun to chase, and this was just the beginning.

 

[Brooklyn Zambrano]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Jutrand

Tag | Firrerreo Karok

Having the misfortune to barrack close to the fifth was already a punishment in of itself, but now the place was polluted with noise..

Her eyes peer from the window, gazing at the opposing barrack in the distance. Shadows flickered, illuminated by the sparse candles. Something was going on, and she was pulled to investigate.

Upon closer inspections outside the place, it was the damned first.. Trying to pull some pathetic power move by beating on others the higher ups already knew they could beat.

But hey.. She was not one to deny the thrill of a fight, and when a Sith wants something, they take it.

Knuckles cracked, she spots one of the first.. Gathering a gang of goons it seemed. If there were any who hated settling just as much it had to be Brooke, first finding a weapon to beat people with.. The leg of a chair, wood sturdy enough to bash a head or two in.

She had her eyes on the big prize here, be it showing the first she was not one to cower, or perhaps even proving herself as just as capable a fighter.

This was all childs play to her, if she had her way they would all be using real weapons..

To her surprise, another acolyte sought after this prize. Karok seemed to be just the type she would want to not only fight, but fight alongside of.

No fancy magics, just raw power and skill with the blade.

And as the big man moved in, so would she. Armed with a sturdy beating stick, it was time for some action.

​

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Green eyes snapping open at the first prickle of danger sense, Marcus turned just in time to stop a knife from plunging down into his back. He grabbed the wrist of his attacker and delivered a vicious kick to their gut before rolling out of bed and onto the floor.

There he struggled to untangle himself from his sheets, all while fending off further blows. Other students were being brutalized all around him, with some of the assassins resorting to beating them to death in their beds with their bare fists. Marcus telekinetically summoned his dagger of recall from his bag under his bed, sending it spearing through a boy and girl about to gang up on him.

By now he had realized that these "assassins" were students of higher rank. He recognized Viers Connory beating up one of his bunkmates, and a boy whose name he did not know leading the charge.

After having been given the hilariously low ranking of 81st, Marcus didn't give two shits about what Cohort he was in. He believed the rankings mattered little in the grander scheme of things. But this attack proved that it placed many of the Fifths in a position of vulnerability, labeling them as carrion for the others to feed upon with ease. Well, he wasn't about to let himself be taken as prey.

Leaping to his feet, he called upon the Force to launch a wave of energy at a group of students headed toward him with weapons drawn. He deliberately aimed high; the blast was strong enough to potentially knock their heads off their shoulders.

This was a war to determine who would become the next generation of Sith, and they had made it clear that they were the enemy.

Eira Dyn Brooklyn Zambrano Karok Soah Ty’Jyn Matteo Guo-Yian Irina Jesart Aerik Lechner

 

[Drazen Lutris]

It had been a long day of deals, execution orders, and a number of political setups that would make a normal man's head spin. For a Sith, however, it was simply a Tuesday. With all his business sorted for the next fourteen hours, Drazen leaned back in his chair and lightly lifted his eyepatch to reveal the empty socket an eye once rested.​

​

At the back of the empty hole, was a sigil. It was deeply intricate, ruinic and carefully crafted for a specialized purpose - one he himself hid from the world at large. Drazen reached into a nearby drawer, and unsealed its contents. After a moment of rifling, he pulled out a small containment cube for bio organic material.​

​

Within, was the eye of a child. An acolyte at the Academy he had ambushed and cut from them their natural eye. No doubt their sponsor had moved to hunt down whoever had done so, but Drazen worked through a heavily insulated criminal network, so they'd never trace it back to him. Carefully, he lifted the eye and observed its sulphuric undertones, the red tinge on the edges of it. Subtle dark side corruption, not yet enough to be a true Sith.​

​

He rested it into his eye, and he began to watch the Child's memories. Their current experiences. Everything.​

​

The most notable, emotional, was the arrival of Firrerreo 's raid. He didn't know who had done it yet, but he would find out. For now, he simply watched as the chaos took hold over the Fifth Cohort's barracks - taking all the dangers of the situation in while he swirled a cup of wine before bed. Violence was the best teacher, and it seemed these students were in for a keen lesson.​

​

Whoever had done it, he decided, he needed to speak to. They needed a powerful ally.​

 

[Matteo Guo-Yian]

Tag: Soah Ty’Jyn | Adean Castor | Rosalia Aros

It had become clear to Matteo that wasn't a fight worth winning.

He had nothing in his bunk of worth and the other kids in the cohort were a mess. Half of them were being beaten to an inch of their life, the other half was busy running around like headless nuna. The handful that were actually putting up some resistance were pebbles against a mountain. But as Matteo sneaked away he did realize something funny.

With the sub-Five cohort's attention so focused on Cohort Five?

Their barracks would be ripe for the plucking.

He made his way to them, making sure not to be spotted, remembering the routes he had learned by heart in the previous day. It took effort, time and a lot of caution. While the students were busy beating the piss out of them, there were still teachers and prefects to worry about. Their attendance confirmed it to Matteo though.

Nobody would come and save the Fifth Cohort. They'd learn a lesson out of this and learn it painfully.

He used the shadows and his speed to slip from space to space, until his attention was drawn to something strange. A black shape against the wall. It almost looked like a shadow but it looked off.

Brows furrowed... and his curiosity was awakened.

Matteo followed the shadow, soon realizing that it was going to the First Cohort Apartments just like him. Which was interesting, wasn't it? Eventually they'd pass a threshold and pass by the last adults watching over the hallways. A private sanctum for the most deserving. It looked less a barracks and more like an apartment for royalty.

"Hey." He hissed as he stepped into the room the black spot had entered. "What-"

Then Matteo blinked.

"Soah? What are you doing here?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Cold, unfeeling eyes watched the feed play across the holoscreen. That the more ambitious and vicious of the acolytes had already begun to make their move against the other cohorts was unsurprising, this raid being completely anticipated by the silent observer. This was to be the first great test, everything else had merely been prelude. If those He had chosen were to not only survive, but thrive and dominate, then they would have to overcome this first true obstacle.

As the marauders first entered the dormitory, the small spherical drone warbled through the air and reoriented inside the structure. He watched as the attack began, paying particular close attention to His chosen. Even when the blade sunk between Soldane's ribs, the Dark Lord's expression did not waver.

"Remember your lessons," He whispered, more to Himself than anything else, "They can snatch victory from defeat." If Soldane wished to survive and save his sister, he'd have to fully give himself to the darkness.

Soldane Talon | @Aerik Lechner​

 

[Firrerreo]

"Worm isn't something I've been called in a long time. Ironic, given what your body is made up of, mm, Gendai?"

Firrerreo paused. Turned his head to stare up at the approaching figure. He'd thought he'd heard it before, the Huttess spoken in the crowd during the whole placement ceremony. Boy, did he hate that language with absolute venom. Even now he couldn't help but glare at the other acolyte simply because that's what was spoken. His expression slackened though. Brief annoyance, brief anger.

He couldn't let people read him too well, especially here.

"Then again, perhaps it's suited. The Worm King of the Fifth Trash, Karok."

Was Karok the actual leader? Firrerreo couldn't fully deny it. There were many sent to the Fifth he assumed would've been placed higher. Those the Sith wanted to rise. They needed to loose something to grow. The white mask of his Familiar turned shortly after though, scanning around. Always watching as his second set of eyes to ensure he wasn't going to be surprised.

Grant it he was. Another approached. Brooklyn Zambrano .

"Like a worm you can be cut apart without fear of death, right?" If they were going to start ganging up, well. He reached down, pulling free the sword he'd been given as First Cohort. He was intending to let them, the third and fourth cohorts he'd wrangled, fight and make their problems. But the parts of a Gendai? Those could be oh so useful for his experiments.

And the girl. He'd never say no to more parts.

Firrerreo's room was far from modest. Given free reign, he got all the luxury he could, if only to experience it at least once. He found a lot of it wanting, though. Except for the fridge. And the minifridge. And the cooler. Anything that could hold food he had in abundance to ensure he had the most delicious food he could get in hands reach.

But all that paled in comparison to the workstation he was afforded. A proper alchemical lab, where many of his experiments rested. Body parts mostly, preserved and clearly mutated. Diagrams and notes all hand written and drawn. And in the shadows of the room, another of his familiars there to watch as some semblance of security.

Soah Ty’Jyn | Matteo Guo-Yian | Adean Castor | Rosalia Aros

 

[Adean Castor]

Objective: Survive and Surveil
Location:
Tags: Soah Ty’Jyn | Matteo Guo-Yian | Rosalia Aros

In an ideal world, Adean could roll over and go back to sleep. Well, not quite. In an ideal world, she wouldn't be in a bunk of a crammed barrack, where the lights never fully shut off and she had to sleep with one eye open. But the increased amounts of shuffling earlier on in the night and the suspiciously numerous empty beds had been an early indicator that there would be no sleep this night.

Then came the screams.

Ever grateful that it wasn't her barracks being attacked themselves, Adean was deathly still in her bunk the first thirty seconds or so of the ruckus. Still as a doll, silent. All the better to avoid attention, to keep herself safe. And she was content to stay that way, almost. Not even a sliver of herself entertained the idea of jumping into the fray herself to play hero, though the thought had crossed her mind to make a brief appearance to observe, maybe strategically insert herself where someone of a higher cohort might think of her as their ally. That idea was dashed just about as quickly as it'd formed, though.

Still, it wouldn't do to just stay in bed, lest the violence trickle into fourth. She distinctly caught a couple lone shadows - acolytes who she could only assume had either missed the initial call to action or were moved by a misguided heroism trickle out as the noise progressed. And as she slipped from her bunk, quickly positioning spare close to suggest a body still in bed, she could've sworn she caught a silhouette of someone moving away from the chaos in the fifth.

Surveillance wasn't a bad idea. No, the more she could study the temple with the least amount of eyes, the more at home she could become. It only seemed fair, too. Clearly the other cohorts weren't keen on keeping to their own. Why shouldn't she get a peek of theirs? Shielded physically by shadow, presence masked by skill or curse she hadn't yet come to master, the Epicanthix slinked further into the temple. She wasn't the only one, from the looks of it. Leave it to a paranoid shadow to catch the tail end of another shadow's movement, a brief indicator she was headed the right direction.

She froze when she caught sight of a prefect on patrol, watching as they drew closer to another wandering acolyte. In a brief moment of altruism (or perhaps a personal test of ability) she gave a quick cough, freezing again as the prefect's attention was snapped in her direction. It was a gamble, one she could easily regret. The excuses - 'I lost track of time and got lost returning from the library', 'The provost sent for me - you can check with him if you don't believe me', or even reporting the violence in the fifth cohort's barracks all ran through her mind as the prefect neared.

But then he kept moving, searching for the mystery noise, Adean and her lack of presence going unnoticed. She wasn't sure whether to call it a successful test or sheer dumb luck, nor did she risk time lingering on the consideration as she continued on her stealthy way.

Eyes wide in panic were widened in wonder as she took in the luxury of where the first cohort lived. The difference in living was cruel, though not unexpected. Still, she hadn't expected such a stark difference when fourth was barely better than the fifth. As she neared the lodgings of Firrerreo , she paused, catching the tail end of a hissed question. So this apartment was a popular choice, it seemed. She wasn't quite sure if that would be a boon or bane later on. Still, it wouldn't hurt to take a peek at who else was snooping.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Objective: Take advantage of the ruckus
Location: Outside of Forth Cohort Dorms
Interacting with: Adean Castor Matteo Guo-Yian | maybe Rosalia Aros | Distant Firrerreo

​

"Soah? What are you doing here?"

Soah froze, every muscle taut as the shadows clung to her like a second skin. Her inky black tattoos rippled subtly across her body, shifting in barely noticeable patterns that mirrored her tension. She had done her best to try and keep herself hidden from prefects, the roaving guards, or any of the other remaining First Cohort who had not joined Firrerreo . There were still many bodies Soah's hypersensitive hearing and sight could see, but it seemed the Nexu was out of the bag.

Hidden within the darkness just after she slipped into her opulent objective, she watched as a figure moved closer. The scent hit her first, familiar and unmistakable. Her hazel eyes narrowed as recognition settled in. Matteo. So he had survived the raid; there he was, alive and breathing.

Without hesitation, Soah moved. Her inky form blurred as she darted out of hiding, attempting to grab at Matteo with a swift, rough tug. If successful, she'd shove him back against the wall, pinning him there with perhaps surprising strength for someone of her slight build. She fully intended to use her dark hands to press flat against the wall, caging him in. Up close, her gaze burned into his with feral intensity, a mixture of surprise and grudging respect flickering in her eyes.

"You survived," she hissed in a low whisper, the tone edged with disbelief. The sentient shadows across her skin swirled in subtle designs, mirroring her conflicted thoughts. He wasn't dead. Not bad. It made her wonder if Rosalia Aros had also escaped too.

There wasn't time for idle chatter. Her mind snapped back to her objective. "Attention is on the Fifth; take advantage of what you can find for your use," she offered in a low hush, her voice as cold as the shadows she controlled. It wasn't an invitation; it was a challenge. There was no time to waste -- every second counted. Suddenly she froze, the tiny fine hairs along her skin standing on end. Not just someone, but also something.

With one last intense look, Soah released Matteo, her head snapping around.

"Who else is there?" she asked, Soah's eyes narrowing towards the direction she sensed Adean Castor but also attempting to determine what else had triggered her instincts that they were not alone.