The Dark Lord quoted Krayt Exactly.
He stood.
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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“I see,” she said once again with a soft breath.
Darth Junra had taken several steps toward the Dark Lord. Now, she stood several feet from the Emperor and symbol of the One Sith. Her eyes kept shifting back and forth from the growing number of people at the Dark Lord. Yet, she remained calm on the surface.
Eventually, Darth Junra calmly asked yet another question, “Have you ever experienced this death and rebirth?”
Darth Junra had taken several steps toward the Dark Lord. Now, she stood several feet from the Emperor and symbol of the One Sith. Her eyes kept shifting back and forth from the growing number of people at the Dark Lord. Yet, she remained calm on the surface.
Eventually, Darth Junra calmly asked yet another question, “Have you ever experienced this death and rebirth?”
A single syllable that carried the weight of the universe. It shook the room, howled, screamed.
Ire'Rain Sekairo
Look To Your Demons
CORUSCANT:
The Throne Room: Unknown Time
The Throne Room: Unknown Time
The Dark Lord stood. For a moment fear rushed through the Epicanthix woman. It was a strange feeling for her. Most of her experience with the emotion involved her inflicting it on others... not the other way around. This was the moment she understood her Emperor's power. Whoever this Voss individual really was... he had now garnered her full respect. But Ire did not show it. As always she stood without expressing any of the emotions swirling inside of her. No. All she did was watch the two speakers carefully. Was he going to strike the small Sith?... Was blood going to decorate these stale walls? Part of her hoped so. She held no ill will for the one known as Junra. But death was an event she enjoyed watching. Delight, in a most twisted form, filled her when Daella continued. Oh how she hoped a fight would break out! Behind her back her hands clenched tight in anticipation. How wondrous this was turning out to be! Even if no one was torn to shreds... the tension alone was enough to make her flutter with joy. Her excitement was teased once again. Anger seemed to flare up in the space as the Voss spoke again. What felt like a blast of cold air hit her, almost pushing her back. The Dark Lord truly had much power. Ire, however, was still focused on the other woman. Because things were about to reach their climax. And she couldn't be more interested to see what was about to unfold.The room shook once more. Darth Junra stood at attention and took in the single word that the Dark Lord spoke. After a few seconds, she gave a slight bow of her head toward the Dark Lord.
“Thank you, Master,” she said to him, “I will bring Your Wrath upon Manaan.”
Then, Darth Junra looked to [member="Darth Praelior"] and then to [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]. Darth Junra had finished her discussion with the Dark Lord and he was now free to talk to another.
Darth Junra lingered, though. The words of the Dark Lord mulled in her mind. She maintained a tranquil look upon her face with solemn eyes cast down toward the ground.
“Thank you, Master,” she said to him, “I will bring Your Wrath upon Manaan.”
Then, Darth Junra looked to [member="Darth Praelior"] and then to [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]. Darth Junra had finished her discussion with the Dark Lord and he was now free to talk to another.
Darth Junra lingered, though. The words of the Dark Lord mulled in her mind. She maintained a tranquil look upon her face with solemn eyes cast down toward the ground.
B E A C O N
Silara had crept into the room quietly, her eyes dull and her expression bland. It had always been her greatest wish to both meet and follow the Dark Lord as his greatest tool, or perhaps become something more, but that determination - that drive, ambition - seemed vaguely absent from her. Rather than carry the fiery passion of a naive young adult, she instead instilled a chilling unease where she walked. Everything had lost its meaning, and with it she had lost her muse. There was no point to this anymore, and when her gift had finally been got she had found it wanting. She did not keep her thoughts to herself, she did not foolishly try to hide them behind lock and key, and rather left her mind open to the invasion of others - who was she to care? Only a fool would delve into such a toxic place, corrupted by the Dark Side and scarred as many Sith Lords appeared outwardly to be. When she had entered and witnessed the howling reply of the Dark Lord to his apprentice, to [member="Darth Junra"], the weight of his voice had shaken her physically only, and though she reflected on his outburst with a pensive expression, Silara was beside herself with a lack of interest. Truly it appeared she was to be seen and not heard only, as had been her role in every other case of being involved with anything close to as important as being remotely close to the Dark Lord. She had seen the puppet, Ordo, shot, witnessed the words voiced through Junra, and felt his wrath in war - but she'd never experienced anything other than a two-dimensional rage. Moving aside, by the door, she stood silently and watched - knowing her place and expecting to be treated as invisibly as she felt.
THE Wookie Jedi
Kezeroths attention was captured when he noticed that the conversations were done and over. Snickering at the Emperors response to [member="Darth Praelior"] he waited still in the back of the room. HIs desires burned to burst out and give everyone in the room a piece of his mind but something held him back, The stares of [member="Darth Junra"] herself had captured his attention. The Voice of the Dark Lord itself was interesting in a talk? Interesting enough he wondered why.
Stepping forward some he looked down at [member="Darth Junra"] and crossed his arms against his chest. " Spare me your Gaze, Voice. What is it that you seek to know?" his eyes looked to [member="Darth Junra"] then to the Emperor himself, Blaze of hate flashed and he looked back at the Voice. Kezeroth did not expect much but he was curious if his Activities in the Undercity of Coruscant was known.
Stepping forward some he looked down at [member="Darth Junra"] and crossed his arms against his chest. " Spare me your Gaze, Voice. What is it that you seek to know?" his eyes looked to [member="Darth Junra"] then to the Emperor himself, Blaze of hate flashed and he looked back at the Voice. Kezeroth did not expect much but he was curious if his Activities in the Undercity of Coruscant was known.
Hailey Sosis
Snowflake
Harley was sat back watching the conversation, between [member="Darth Junra"] and the emperor. All the time in the back of head, she was thinking someone going to get it. She thought the emperor would attack her, for questioning him in front of everyone. That would have happened in her old gang, as you question them private, but never ever in public. This was about public as the emperor got, as she had never seen him on the holo channels. They always showed one of his voices, or that stupid darth banshee woman. Trying recruit engineers, and workers for krayt industries, showing how much better people were works know. Know that she had destroyed, the petty gangs down their. She did not like that woman, she killed half her friends.
nihil
Mental notes, mental notes abound. Gabriel turned his head as the tone of the conversation changed in such dramatic crescendos, leaping from destruction of outward intent to the potential for destruction from within. He spotted the [member="Darth Vornskr"] and the silent female near him, [member="Ire'Rain Sekairo"]. His crimson eye drifted lazily, despite the heated turn of the conversation, to [member="Silara Vantai"] and her almost palpable indifference. He gave the slightest microexpression of a smile, hardly anything that would register as recognition, as he gazed upon the monstrous Gen'dai, [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]. He heard things of the figure, whispers from the dead and dying of Coruscant, not a being to be taken lightly. He even gave [member="Harley"] the innocuous glance, though she was ushered into her own little section with the academy students. Finally, he gazed upon the voice, [member="Darth Junra"], in a contemplative tone as she approached Darth Praelior and Kezeroth. [member="Darth Praelior"], that was one that Gabriel remembered fondly, experiments on the Nightmare Child was but a brief moment ago to a man who cherished the chance to stretch.
As he moved from the viewing screen to the wall next to it, the Sith Lord leaned heavily against gothic styled walls painted in the faint hues of space and blue tones from the shielding, arms crossed for momentary comfort. He conjured notions of hypotheticals and potentials, wandering what would have happened should the voice find the Dark Lord turning against her for such 'insolence.' Though Gabriel hardly considered it such, he knew the temper of those risen to the top. It was a part of the job, smacking the dog that nipped. Perhaps he would have jumped in, clashed against the Dark Lord. Fear didn't move him, but the potential for the end did. What better way to go then against someone of such esteem and pedigree, a power overwhelming and laced with promises of pain and torment. Much could be gained from such a beating, the Sith Lord thought, as he silently mused to himself, biding his time until this meeting of loud words and posturing was over.
As he moved from the viewing screen to the wall next to it, the Sith Lord leaned heavily against gothic styled walls painted in the faint hues of space and blue tones from the shielding, arms crossed for momentary comfort. He conjured notions of hypotheticals and potentials, wandering what would have happened should the voice find the Dark Lord turning against her for such 'insolence.' Though Gabriel hardly considered it such, he knew the temper of those risen to the top. It was a part of the job, smacking the dog that nipped. Perhaps he would have jumped in, clashed against the Dark Lord. Fear didn't move him, but the potential for the end did. What better way to go then against someone of such esteem and pedigree, a power overwhelming and laced with promises of pain and torment. Much could be gained from such a beating, the Sith Lord thought, as he silently mused to himself, biding his time until this meeting of loud words and posturing was over.
The Dark Lord shifted his attentions away from Daella, forgetting she was there almost the instant that he looked away from her. The Voss looked about the room, staring at the gathered Sith. From some of them he could feel hate, from some of them he could feel anger, from others he could feel devotion, thoughts of betrayal, a whole range of emotion that seemed to float directly over his head. For the Dark Lord of the Sith, emotions were but petty complexities that were not necessary. If he could be said to feel anything, it would be rage.
The Rage of the Darkside burning within him, pure and uncontrollable.
The Voss' gaze shifted over towards [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"], looking at the massive Gen'Dai with a burning gaze that would set oceans a flame. A twisted sneer upon his face told of dissatisfaction, though what it was for what difficult to tell. Could the Dark Lord read minds? His focused voice echoed within the room, but especially within Kezeroths skull.
His voice boomed. Threatening to tear the mind apart.
Behind Daella, an unseen shift happened. The world seemed to become colder, the air that was so hot with the rage of the Dark Lord shifted and changed. Visible to no one, a force appeared, the presence of one that had gone unseen across galaxies and planets in order to arrive in this place. A wisp, a shell a ghost.
“Do it.”
A whisper.
A resounding noise that would sound only in the ears of one woman, of Daella Apparine. It would echo, over and over again, sounding like a sirens call.
“Do it.”
At first, Darth Junra returned her gaze to [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]. She had only shortly glanced at him before. She frowned upon his words. Her lips parted for a moment as if she would speak. Yet, no words came from her mouth.
Then, her gaze returned to the ground toward the left side of her. She remained in thought. Her eyes twitched as a vaguely familiar presence made itself known only to her. Anyone experiencing it would only assume that it was a hallucination. Yet, Darth Junra was not familiar with these waking dreams.
Diana Moridena had somehow meant a lot to Daella Apparine. One did not have to have insight into Darth Junra’s mind to know this - only observation of their actions. Though, few knew how far she went. One eventful day brought Darth Junra, still posing as a Jedi, and Diana against Karin Dorn - a Sith. The easiest way to end the confrontation would have been to reveal herself to Karin and kill Diana. Yet, the Darth Junra at the time chose to slay Karin and spare Diana. She even resolved to use the power of the dark side of the Force - a fact likely kept from Diana due to Karin’s gratuitous use of it.
Now as others had observed, the Dark Lord was simply two-dimensional hate and anger - not the purity of will that Darth Junra had long known. The events surrounding Ordo’s death might had affected the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had momentarily touched Darth Junra’s mind during the attack on Empress Teta - yet through that she saw little to gain insight on how the severed connection from Ordo changed him. Yet with the pale skin of the Dark Lord and notable change in demeanor, it would had been easy to surmise something had happened.
Then, her gaze returned to the ground toward the left side of her. She remained in thought. Her eyes twitched as a vaguely familiar presence made itself known only to her. Anyone experiencing it would only assume that it was a hallucination. Yet, Darth Junra was not familiar with these waking dreams.
“Do it.”
Slowly, Darth Junra’s eyes widened with the never ending echo in her mind. Her body remained still an in her control. She did not shake once in the presence of this Force ghost. It took the shape of a familiar friend that had long been dead. Darth Junra did not have to turn around to know this - its voice was enough for the Sith Lord.Diana Moridena had somehow meant a lot to Daella Apparine. One did not have to have insight into Darth Junra’s mind to know this - only observation of their actions. Though, few knew how far she went. One eventful day brought Darth Junra, still posing as a Jedi, and Diana against Karin Dorn - a Sith. The easiest way to end the confrontation would have been to reveal herself to Karin and kill Diana. Yet, the Darth Junra at the time chose to slay Karin and spare Diana. She even resolved to use the power of the dark side of the Force - a fact likely kept from Diana due to Karin’s gratuitous use of it.
“Do it.”
Yet now that friend told her to slay her Master - whom she long viewed as a father in place of the one she never knew or had. There was further reason to act, though. She had long suspected it after listening to the holocron of Darth Krayt, yet the goals of the Dark Lord did not align with her own. She had boasted to Kiskla Grayson long ago about having the ability to strike down the Dark Lord if he turned from her goals - yet such could easily be baseless boasting.Now as others had observed, the Dark Lord was simply two-dimensional hate and anger - not the purity of will that Darth Junra had long known. The events surrounding Ordo’s death might had affected the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had momentarily touched Darth Junra’s mind during the attack on Empress Teta - yet through that she saw little to gain insight on how the severed connection from Ordo changed him. Yet with the pale skin of the Dark Lord and notable change in demeanor, it would had been easy to surmise something had happened.
“Do it.”
Eventually, Darth Junra’s eyes relaxed. She looked up and toward the Dark Lord. Her hands remained at her side with no weapon in either. She merely listened to the Dark Lord speak and did not strike.The Dark Lord’s words once again rang throughout the room. Daella Apparine remained calm as ever even as the rage of the Dark Lord permeated through the room. Daella Apparine felt that such was all he was, and such was all he would be. A tinge of sadness found its way in her heart wondering what had happened to the Dark Lord she pledged herself to. Yet, she found it easy to assume that such had always been the case and she merely blinded herself to the truth.
Diana’s words had grown silent to Daella Apparine at this point. All that was left in her mind was her own thoughts - now not so unknown to those that paid attention. Her decision was her own as she took a single step toward the Dark Lord as he raged at Kezeroth.
A purple blade sprang to life and shot straight toward the back of the Dark Lord’s corporal form. No word. No other warning. No mercy. A cacophony of passions and emotions emanated from Daella Apparine - yet there was resolution in her eyes as the Apprentice betrayed the Master.
Diana’s words had grown silent to Daella Apparine at this point. All that was left in her mind was her own thoughts - now not so unknown to those that paid attention. Her decision was her own as she took a single step toward the Dark Lord as he raged at Kezeroth.
A purple blade sprang to life and shot straight toward the back of the Dark Lord’s corporal form. No word. No other warning. No mercy. A cacophony of passions and emotions emanated from Daella Apparine - yet there was resolution in her eyes as the Apprentice betrayed the Master.
The Dark Lord felt the stab of heat pierce through his chest. Anger, rage, the emotions of deception. The Leader of the One Sith began to pull back, the blade piercing through his chest thrumming and humming, resonating louder and louder. He began to stretch, his arms coming up, a cry of pure anguish escaped the Dark Lords lips, a powerful echo that would tear through the minds of everyone within the room.
An explosion of power erupted from him.
Lightning, Destruction, and a wave of utter and sheer Darkside Power surged from the Dark Lord of the Sith. It tore through the room, obliterating and tearing apart the flags and iconography of the One Sith that lay in the room. The pure unadulterated Rage erupted, singing, biting, burning, and devouring whatever was around.
The Dark Lord lashed out, tearing at [member="Darth Junra"] as his mortal form failed.
(Explanation: We've decided to give you guys a clean slate. One Sith was our vision, NPC Dark Lord was our vision. It might not be yours. We want to leave it up to you guys who leads you. Want an NPC Dark Lord? Bring him back in a new body, want a PC Dark Lord? Fight it out. Want no Dark Lord but a council of Equals? That's silly you're not Jedi, but I don't own you so do what you want. Clean Slate, do with it as you please!)
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Lightning ripped through the air. It assaulted Daella’s skin - burning what bits of it that it touched.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Bearing her teeth, Daella grimaced in pain as the Dark Lord attempted to destroy her in his final moments of life.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Yet despite knowing that she would not be able to do this unharmed, she held her lightsaber tightly and without wavering.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Moving the blade to the Dark Lord’s heart, she resolved to see the end of this.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Lightning ripped through the air. It assaulted Daella’s skin - burning what bits of it that it touched.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Bearing her teeth, Daella grimaced in pain as the Dark Lord attempted to destroy her in his final moments of life.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Yet despite knowing that she would not be able to do this unharmed, she held her lightsaber tightly and without wavering.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
Moving the blade to the Dark Lord’s heart, she resolved to see the end of this.
The Apprentice must kill the Master.
The longer time went though, the weaker his flailing became. Eventually, it faded as the Voss drew its last breath. The light in his eyes faded. The Dark Lord’s mortal form died as a purple blade hummed within his chest.
After that moment, the blade deactivated - allowing for the Voss body to fall face-first to the floor of the throne room. Immediately, Daella dropped to the floor on a knee. Smoke emanated from her body. Her black tunic had been torn and scorched into an unrecognizable mess. Scorch marks were scattered across her body. Her hair had some smoldering as well.
Still, she lived. She had heavy breaths and now gazed upon the crowd of Sith before her. Yet, she was obviously weakened and in pain. Her thoughts closed off again before any could see what she felt about the situation. She gave no words to explain her actions, though. Not at that moment.
nihil
He ticked his tongue as the scene unfolded, not a beat skipping and not a jumpy nerve among them. He merely watched, crimson eye glassed over in nonchalance as he watched Sith do their Sithy things. Typical, he thought, to watch strength unfurl around itself in deceit and animosity. There was weakness in the universe but he didn't believe it existed in this room, not in a manner that required such immediate action. A show, as it were, was what the Sith remaining were given. As a geyser is pierced with a pike, the pressure exerted outward blasted all memorabilia in obscene manner. Would this be the death of this group, he wondered? Likely not, there was enough power to reclaim the organization and the universe never be the wiser for it. How would they go about their leadership? Gabriel cared little for the vying of power and position, he had one of those and had no true need for the other.
Would that title add grace to his saber, or crush his opponents into smaller bits, or perhaps illuminate the Shatterpoint techniques in any easier lighting than what had already been achieved? Would fighting for the role of Dark Lord really behoove him in anyway, turning from the thing upon ground to the thing upon throne? No, if it was a fight that was needed, he wouldn't take part. His fight was out in the universe, destroying those things that desecrated order and strength with false idolization of serenity and discipline. True discipline was formed from the encouragement of passion and the control that it required, unless one would fall prey to the wills of the darkside and turn to madness. And perhaps those types existed in this place as well, maniacs, the evil, the hungry. The One Sith was the purest vehicle of change that existed in the universe, the largest fuel load to be seen, and the motivation to move it. He would follow it until that changed. But he wouldn't strike [member="Darth Junra"] down, here, for her actions. Even if it was typical for Sith to do so, he never found pleasure in kicking a dog while it was down. Where was the challenge?
Where was the blame, he thought. Maybe it lied in the wounded, maybe in the deceased. Maybe it didn't matter. Nevertheless, it wasn't enough to ignite the two sabers on his back, to strike down the thing wilted before him. He didn't care enough and she had obviously learned a lesson in pain that he envied and could relate to, the itch of the missing eye reminded him in a sort of subtle burning sensation. Scratching it, he sighed heavily, and rolled his tongue in between his bottom lip and teeth, forming a moving bulge on his chin. He waited, in anticipation for what was to come, preparing to defend himself if needed. This day was turning out to filled with far more surprises than he had originally anticipated.
Would that title add grace to his saber, or crush his opponents into smaller bits, or perhaps illuminate the Shatterpoint techniques in any easier lighting than what had already been achieved? Would fighting for the role of Dark Lord really behoove him in anyway, turning from the thing upon ground to the thing upon throne? No, if it was a fight that was needed, he wouldn't take part. His fight was out in the universe, destroying those things that desecrated order and strength with false idolization of serenity and discipline. True discipline was formed from the encouragement of passion and the control that it required, unless one would fall prey to the wills of the darkside and turn to madness. And perhaps those types existed in this place as well, maniacs, the evil, the hungry. The One Sith was the purest vehicle of change that existed in the universe, the largest fuel load to be seen, and the motivation to move it. He would follow it until that changed. But he wouldn't strike [member="Darth Junra"] down, here, for her actions. Even if it was typical for Sith to do so, he never found pleasure in kicking a dog while it was down. Where was the challenge?
Where was the blame, he thought. Maybe it lied in the wounded, maybe in the deceased. Maybe it didn't matter. Nevertheless, it wasn't enough to ignite the two sabers on his back, to strike down the thing wilted before him. He didn't care enough and she had obviously learned a lesson in pain that he envied and could relate to, the itch of the missing eye reminded him in a sort of subtle burning sensation. Scratching it, he sighed heavily, and rolled his tongue in between his bottom lip and teeth, forming a moving bulge on his chin. He waited, in anticipation for what was to come, preparing to defend himself if needed. This day was turning out to filled with far more surprises than he had originally anticipated.
Ire'Rain Sekairo
Look To Your Demons
CORUSCANT:
The Throne Room: Unknown Time
[member="Darth Junra"], [member="Silara Vantai"]
He had fallen.
The Dark Lord was dead.
With a surprising amount of control the apprentice slid forward. An arm reached out to her fellow woman, stopping just an inch away from her skin. What had she done?... No, Ire thought, that's not important right now. Daella was injured. And though it wasn't her focus, the Epicanthix was, in fact, capable of healing. She could keep everyone stable until better help arrived. Or so she hoped. "My Lady... do you wish to be taken to a healer?" Her voice was soft. Quiet. Only the one she spoke to would hear. Some Sith had an enormous amount of pride. Not all would want to be treated immediatly. Ire was not sure what this one would want. What she did know, however, was that she was ready to assist. For once in her life she had decided not to be an nerf herder. Who knew how long that was going to last? 'Twas best to take advantage of it now. Otherwise one may never get the chance.
The Throne Room: Unknown Time
[member="Darth Junra"], [member="Silara Vantai"]
Anger. That was all the Voss seemed to know. Rage filled his heart, his soul, his mind. A force that sent shockwaves through everyone. Surely even some on the planet below would feel him. Such power... it awed those who watched. For a moment even Ire, a pompous prick, had to admit how stunned she was. That did not, however, last long. Someone she knew entered the room. One of the fools who her 'mother' often spent time with. Quietly the Epixanthix eyed Silara, her gaze conveying a desire to speak. But now was not the time. She turned back and waited for her master to speak. Soon time seemed to slow. The Dark Lord moved forward, Daella seemed to be having a fight with herself, in her mind, and the air grew more and more tense. Something was going to happen. This pleased the insane woman at first. In fact, it made her smirk ever-so-slightly. But nothing lasts forever. Not even her joy, not even the reign of the Sith. One unexpected blow was all it took to seal the deal. Lightning spread out across the room. Ire felt herself burn, felt the energy tearing at her. Inside she could only imagine what those closer to the man were experiencing... what Junra was going through. Where a smirk once lay now stood a panicked frown.He had fallen.
The Dark Lord was dead.
With a surprising amount of control the apprentice slid forward. An arm reached out to her fellow woman, stopping just an inch away from her skin. What had she done?... No, Ire thought, that's not important right now. Daella was injured. And though it wasn't her focus, the Epicanthix was, in fact, capable of healing. She could keep everyone stable until better help arrived. Or so she hoped. "My Lady... do you wish to be taken to a healer?" Her voice was soft. Quiet. Only the one she spoke to would hear. Some Sith had an enormous amount of pride. Not all would want to be treated immediatly. Ire was not sure what this one would want. What she did know, however, was that she was ready to assist. For once in her life she had decided not to be an nerf herder. Who knew how long that was going to last? 'Twas best to take advantage of it now. Otherwise one may never get the chance.
B E A C O N
Where an effervescent calm had laid siege to her, a stark indifference plastered on her face, came a tumultuous rage that frothed forth like the foams of space and time from a nebulous stage that had never once been seen by mortal eyes. The Dark Lord was dead. ".." Silence echoed through her mind, and she stepped forwards from her small nook in the throne room. She had been so close to tasting success, and suddenly it had been ripped away from her, and that burned her soul like the fires of chaos. "Fething rats.." She muttered, her hands curling into small fists, her stature suddenly seemingly tiny to her perception of the room around her. She was the smallest object, the being of least concern, and her eyes were alight with anxiety - clouded with confusion - when she parted her lips with a snarl. "How dare you!" Silara screamed, her rage not born out of some foolish loyalty, it was far deeper than that. She had diverted her entire life, the entirety of her ambitions, all of her personal vendettas, thrown away life, limb, and love for the notion of following the Dark Lord, to become closer to the true Sith Lords of the One Sith and with one fell swoop, one moment of madness, she had been robbed of that experience, of that fulfillment. In that single, glaring, infuriating moment she ceased to wear her masks. She dropped the guise of a simpleton, of some fool blinded by morality and nobility, of some cliched evil-doer to follow the path laid before her. Silara stepped forth not as some mannequin, not as some puppet, but as herself, and though she did not care for subtleties in such a situation, she was still cautious of waylaying anyone in the room just yet - lest she be seen as something she was not.
A remaining arc of blue light struck the wall beside her, obliterating its hallowed stone, and a less potent spark split off from the bolt and surged through the side of her face, illuminating her veins with a faint electric blue hue, her eyes glistening with tears. This was pathetic, all of these fools were pathetic. She could see clearly now, determine the pretenders from the rest, and Junra was both the source of her anxiety and also of one of two true beacons of darkness within the chambers now that the Dark Lord was dead. The other was Vornskr, and she could feel the beginnings of another, a man whom she was not familiar with, reaching the same point as Junra and the Epicanthix. She could move towards them, gravitate towards the source of power like a foolish whelp, becoming yet another peon among many, become nothing but a puppet to be controlled by those whom were truly Sith.
'I will have none of that.'
No longer was she bound by fealty to an idol, no longer was she a slave to ideals. No, she would become a Sith. A true Sith. Kark the rest, those fething pretenders, those foolish martyrs and their idiotic followers. Silara could see what was changing, she could feel the presence of absolution hanging in the air around her. It went further than simple observation, beyond a mere sense of foreboding - she was more than adept in the nature of farseeing, and her visions through the force had been building up in the past weeks. On the verge of reaching the pinnacle of prediction through the force, so close and still so incredibly far, the map to the potential future was strewn out naked to her eyes, and with it came her rage. These Sith Lords didn't care about their group, about anything - all they had cared about was amassing wealth, power, knowledge.
'AND FOR WHAT!?'
All of these was done with absolutely no foresight, no proper planning, and now turmoil would reign - nay, it would crumble their foundation just as they had been on the verge of crushing the Republic, of defeating those fething Mandalorians. "What now? What do you heathens plan to do now that you have cast away your directive?" Silara shouted, her fists held firmly at her sides. Looking towards Vornskr all she could see was a selfish ambition, and towards Junra was something not quite as dark as it seemed. [member="Reverance"] was a cloud of mystery to her, an enigma, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate to take the place of the Dark Lord, as Junra had now failed her expectations in her foolish rage. Now the thin chord that held her, tied her, to the One Sith hung dependent on their answer.
[member="Darth Junra"]
A remaining arc of blue light struck the wall beside her, obliterating its hallowed stone, and a less potent spark split off from the bolt and surged through the side of her face, illuminating her veins with a faint electric blue hue, her eyes glistening with tears. This was pathetic, all of these fools were pathetic. She could see clearly now, determine the pretenders from the rest, and Junra was both the source of her anxiety and also of one of two true beacons of darkness within the chambers now that the Dark Lord was dead. The other was Vornskr, and she could feel the beginnings of another, a man whom she was not familiar with, reaching the same point as Junra and the Epicanthix. She could move towards them, gravitate towards the source of power like a foolish whelp, becoming yet another peon among many, become nothing but a puppet to be controlled by those whom were truly Sith.
'I will have none of that.'
No longer was she bound by fealty to an idol, no longer was she a slave to ideals. No, she would become a Sith. A true Sith. Kark the rest, those fething pretenders, those foolish martyrs and their idiotic followers. Silara could see what was changing, she could feel the presence of absolution hanging in the air around her. It went further than simple observation, beyond a mere sense of foreboding - she was more than adept in the nature of farseeing, and her visions through the force had been building up in the past weeks. On the verge of reaching the pinnacle of prediction through the force, so close and still so incredibly far, the map to the potential future was strewn out naked to her eyes, and with it came her rage. These Sith Lords didn't care about their group, about anything - all they had cared about was amassing wealth, power, knowledge.
'AND FOR WHAT!?'
All of these was done with absolutely no foresight, no proper planning, and now turmoil would reign - nay, it would crumble their foundation just as they had been on the verge of crushing the Republic, of defeating those fething Mandalorians. "What now? What do you heathens plan to do now that you have cast away your directive?" Silara shouted, her fists held firmly at her sides. Looking towards Vornskr all she could see was a selfish ambition, and towards Junra was something not quite as dark as it seemed. [member="Reverance"] was a cloud of mystery to her, an enigma, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate to take the place of the Dark Lord, as Junra had now failed her expectations in her foolish rage. Now the thin chord that held her, tied her, to the One Sith hung dependent on their answer.
[member="Darth Junra"]
THE Wookie Jedi
Burning rage, Hatred barely controlled. Kezeroths Eyes alone flashed a threatening look at the Emperor. His Body temperature rose slightly and his teeth gnashed together. His attention was focused on the Dark Lord of the Sith Himself, The Dark Lords words burned in his mind and shook him to his core. It was not the Emperor Kezeroth feared but his Darkside Power that he had taken for himself, holding the darkside against its will in Kezeroths eyes and not treating it as equal. The Gen'Dais body tensed and he started falling into a focus, like Tunnel vision he only saw that what he wanted gone most!
But Something happen! [member="Darth Junra"] moved slightly and then Their was a explosion of power! Kezeroths focus collapsed slightly and he saw the purple saber blade of the Voice of the Dark lord himself inside the Emperor! He was shocked. He was unsure what to think, as the power of darkness exploded around the room Kezeroth smiled... The Darkside was freed from his grasp of greeding for power. The Room fell apart and Kezeroth found himself raising an arm to cover his upper body against it all, The darkside presence was now leaking about! Amist the chaos Kezeroth remembered his vision of the One Sith Burning and exploding with power, had he seen the future? He was unsure, in the Vision he was the one who stood Victorious in the end! And then it hit him like a meteor would to a Moon...
No more thinking, No more stalling .. Give in and Lash out join the Betrayer! The Gen'Dai's focus returned and his body errupted with tension again. His expression was unlike any, a sadistic grin that showed his intent! Summoning his LightClub into his grasp, holding there he summoned his Fears, Doubt, Anger,Hate & Malice. All that was within him, He buckled slightly and looked down.
" No more...." he mutterd in his breath.
Mean while as the Gen'Dais head was down, he had missed his chance. The Dark Lord was Dead and the Voice stood there damaged by combat. Kezeroth blinded by his hate failed to see this intill his Head flew back up gazing at the chaos, his Eyes burning a bloodly glow of Red. His Rage was presented in full and the Darkside was their behind it. Force Rage. Unleashing a Massive Roar Kezeroth was ready, He was ready to end it! His Lightclub activated and ignited, the Lava colored blade was a true representation of his Hate. A Hate for the Sith!
In a Dash of speed Kezeroth Charged at the one who slayed the Emperor, His grip strong and his focus excellent. With a Leap the Gen'Dai brought his weapon up over his head to destroy the woman, the one who stole his revenge from him!
" YOU! YOU STOLE MY REVENGE!" He shouted in Anger while he charged.
But Something happen! [member="Darth Junra"] moved slightly and then Their was a explosion of power! Kezeroths focus collapsed slightly and he saw the purple saber blade of the Voice of the Dark lord himself inside the Emperor! He was shocked. He was unsure what to think, as the power of darkness exploded around the room Kezeroth smiled... The Darkside was freed from his grasp of greeding for power. The Room fell apart and Kezeroth found himself raising an arm to cover his upper body against it all, The darkside presence was now leaking about! Amist the chaos Kezeroth remembered his vision of the One Sith Burning and exploding with power, had he seen the future? He was unsure, in the Vision he was the one who stood Victorious in the end! And then it hit him like a meteor would to a Moon...
No more thinking, No more stalling .. Give in and Lash out join the Betrayer! The Gen'Dai's focus returned and his body errupted with tension again. His expression was unlike any, a sadistic grin that showed his intent! Summoning his LightClub into his grasp, holding there he summoned his Fears, Doubt, Anger,Hate & Malice. All that was within him, He buckled slightly and looked down.
" No more...." he mutterd in his breath.
Mean while as the Gen'Dais head was down, he had missed his chance. The Dark Lord was Dead and the Voice stood there damaged by combat. Kezeroth blinded by his hate failed to see this intill his Head flew back up gazing at the chaos, his Eyes burning a bloodly glow of Red. His Rage was presented in full and the Darkside was their behind it. Force Rage. Unleashing a Massive Roar Kezeroth was ready, He was ready to end it! His Lightclub activated and ignited, the Lava colored blade was a true representation of his Hate. A Hate for the Sith!
In a Dash of speed Kezeroth Charged at the one who slayed the Emperor, His grip strong and his focus excellent. With a Leap the Gen'Dai brought his weapon up over his head to destroy the woman, the one who stole his revenge from him!
" YOU! YOU STOLE MY REVENGE!" He shouted in Anger while he charged.
Conceited
She was unknown among the One Sith, save for the select few such as [member="Darth Junra"] and [member="Darth Vornskr"]. She had even knelt before the Voss Dark Lord of the Sith, when the One Sith had been formed on Prakith in the shadows during the of the Sith Empire, before the former Jedi Master and Sith Emperor had. Darth Ayra's affairs were away from Coruscant and the One Sith, despite being a member of the organization for quite sometime. Her affairs were outside of the fledgling One Sith Empire, at Chandrila instead, where she plotted to use business and politics to hurt the Galactic Republic, the Jedi Order and their allies. When she had knelt before the Voss, she had done so with the intentions of utilizing the group to her own devices; and now, finally, those interests had met each other with his fall.
Darth Ayra emerged in the center of the One Sith's domain, in a hooded garb. Her Lightsaber hung from her belt and her hands were held by her side. She looked on at the collective, waiting.
Patience had allowed her this much time and now that she had returned to the One Sith, came an opportunity, for it came with the tidal wave of change. As the One Sith flooded in to see the betrayal of apprentice against her master, the Sith Lord would look on.