LOCATION: Outside of the Great Library - Not on top
OBJECTIVE: What is going on, react react react!
ALLIES: TLSoTF |
Jared Ovmar |
Zaren Bouqi |
Darth Kentarch |
Popo
ENEMIES: Darth Vornskr | Darth Arcis | @Lady Exedō | Doctor Agnusdei |
sabrina
Of course Kiskla’s opponent was interested in taking a pound of flesh. Unfortunate for The Eater of the Dead, she would never reap her rewards. Not from Kiskla, nor from anymore innocent — and certainly not from those Padawans Exedø had threatened rhetorically.
The Grandmaster still held her hilts, eyes on the red-head in the protective garment. She wasn’t just looking, she was analyzing.
Perceiving.
This creature seemed to take enjoyment from the damned. Like a demented demon, drawing in energy toward her and letting her own presence grow until it was pulsing angrily against the darkness of Force Sight. Shinju was like a walking heat map, brilliant with radiative colours when Kiskla looked beyond the naked eye and perceived the soul-sucker for her true, absorptive abilities. The very air around her twisted into the enhanced drain that was the core of the Sith. Irretrievable.
The air around her was becoming cold, and Kiskla could feel her body protesting to the shift in temperature. She realized that this shift was a result of the smoky twists that curled from the Sith’s hand.
She was taking Kiskla’s energy, a twisted sort of tutiminus.
A precognitive screech raced through her veins in time for Kiskla to look up, and temporarily neglect to pay the warranted attention to her dropping body temperature. Anything that didn’t need energy was becoming sapped. Which was fine, because the first sound of
energetic plasma pew-ing from the barrel of the rifle overhead. The first bolt connected with her calf, biting against the metal of her armour. Instead of dissipating however, the Jedi Master drew on what Force reserve she had, which was still pooled to an impressive amount, drawing on her own knowledge of absorption. Though her skin was protected, she’d have to maintain the energy at a close enough distance to her body to continue manipulating it. Then came the boom.
Perfect. She needed a boom.
The first blossom of flame erupted against the stone of the pillar near to her body. .. wait wait..hold on. This is where the writer breaks it down slo-mo for all y’all.
Bits of pebbles separated from the pillar’s structure, akin to the falling rose petals in American Beauty. You know
what scene I’m referring to. They twisted and spiralled through the air, pumped by the heated radiation behind them while the flames spread and licked. Oxygen caused the combustion to grow marvellously, and by now, the energy from the blaster bolts was dancing along Kiskla’s fingertips like glowing webs between her knuckles. Additionally, the energy from the light sabre crystal that gave her armour extra juice joined the effervescence culminating in her grip. Flames now rolled down her shoulders and along her arms, licking against the neck of her helmet as it expanded.
The slow-motion stops here.
FWOOSH!
Instantly, this swell of activity was under the Mistress of Light’s control. Directed with immense fortitude, a powerful tunnel of warped flames, blaster, a bit of crystal and that bit of body heat Shinju had been sucking away via cytokinesis. The roar of verve erupted forward in a belching torrent toward the Lady of Death; curling every which way around her.
Perhaps she was a vixen of absorption, but every glutton had their limit. Every addict reached their overdose. The amount of raw, hot, and imbued energy that was now surrounding her immediate area was meant to consume the consumer. Or at least overwhelm her to her boiling point; give the woman too much to handle and she simply burst like an over-inflated balloon.
That, or it’d totally backfire.
Anyways, Kiskla rolled with the punches. The explosion was controlled for the most part, but there was still a bellow that erupted from it; which knocked against her core and sent her backwards — cartoon style. Like a rag doll, she bent at the core, heels dragging and wrists still reaching out. She didn’t stop until she hit the entryway to the library (the real one. Not the one Vornskr had created earlier from her telekinetic burst). The stone crumbled slightly on impact, but for the most part, she slumped at the bottom of it — taking a moment to groan and fall forward onto her hands and knees and catch her breath from being winded.
Uunnghh..
Her head hammered angrily, pounding against the inside of her skull in protest to this bouncing around. What's more, there was so much tumult going on through the ebb of The Force that her concentration was sincerely fractured. Her fingertips stretched against the rubble, rolling the pebbles beneath her hand as she winced at the dark feeling, like a nail being driven between her eyes. It demanded her chest collapse in a loud, objecting gasp to the feeling. Her chest heaved, and she dropped on an elbow, her hand curling into a fist on impact and she clenched her eyes shut. Someone quite dear was falling...again...this time, the source was different. It seemed more in pain -- more...
Her eyes snapped open. No. [member="Artemisia Vy Kar"].