Star Wars RPF Lightsaber Combat thread

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena, Dreamscape...

The Wookiee had to release his hold upon the rebar, but before he did, he would throw his red saber swiftly at the High Lord to at least try and break his concentration and control over the Orb. When he threw his saber, it was guided at the High Lord's legs while dodged the incoming Orb with a rolling dive. He continued his run towards the edge of the arena and jumped up into the crowd seating and began force throwing the seats rapidly at Lord Manticore as he continued to sprint around the outside of the arena. The stadium's foundation began to crack and became unstable from the missing support of the rebar. He may have thrown one saber, but he still had his Jedi saber in hand.
Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Combat Arena, Dreamscape

The High Lord's focus was lightsaber sharp! He was in the flow of the battle, inhabiting every nuance, every ebb and surge.

Ravenous released his hold of the 50 spears and Lord Manticore immediately took control, holding them in place for the moment. Seeing the Wookiee in motion caused him to smirk. The wookiee was no fool. He would live longer than most in that case.

Darth Ravenous performed a saber throw at the zabrak as he continued to run towards the edge of the arena, where he jumped up into the stands. Lord Manticore threw one of his own lightsabers and bounced it off the wookiee’s thrown weapon, effectively deviating its trajectory.

Several seats were now flying towards Manticore, thanks to the Force throwing Wookiee, however, the zabrak detonated the force boulder in the middle of the arena with exploded with such tremendous force, that it knocked back everything in the entire diameter of the arena.

The initial barrage of seats were knocked away like toys.

Darth Ravenous continued to sprint around the perimeter of the crumbling arena, still throwing seats at Manticore, who responded by performing a horizontal slash in a complete circle, slicing all 50 spears in two. He now had 100 spears, measuring half-a meter each.

With the same fluid motion, Manticore directed a spear at every seat thrown at him, some instantly exploded on impact, others were knocked out from the arena, and others were simply pinned down.

By now, Manticore’s blade had returned to him, and his smirk grew.

The Sith High Lord immediately leapt at his opponent, using the remaining half-spears as projectiles to destroy any missiles the Wookiee might still employ as he came down, his sabers tracing red patterns in the air.

It was time.


Tag: @WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena, Dreamscape...

The Wookiee stopped dead in his tracks to face the High Lord as he leaped up to close the distance. The Wookiee was to face certain death. It did not matter as this Sith was already dead... Manticore leaped into the fray that the Wookiee had layed.. Ravenous faced the High Lord and stated assertedly, "You may be stronger than I High Lord, but does one feel what I have done." Just then, the Wookiee pushed downward with a force push. As the Arena gave out below the Ravenous called his saber back to himself, between Manticore. The red saber headed straight for the High Lords' back; ignited and thirsty. They fell to the beast chambers, which were very unhappy with their intrusion. An Acklay, a Reek, and A pack of Nexu's were released with the collapse. The Wookiee smiled maniacally as he backflipped onto the Nexu, taming the beast as it jumped out of the manhole.
Tag:greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Combat Arena, Dreamscape

The zabrak spun in mid air, knocking away the wookiee’s surreptitious attack to his back. Ravenous was indeed a quick study; this he found satisfactory. Employing the Force, Lord Manticore controlled his descent, as he lowered himself into the beast chambers.

“You may be stronger than I, High Lord, but does one feel what I have done?” Darth Ravenous roared out.

Manticore had to admit, he was briefly amused, which was a rare thing indeed.

The arena continued to shake and crumble all around, even as the wookiee leapt unto a Nexu, which he instantly dominated, then caused it to leap out of the manhole.

The Reek took issue with the zabrak, seeing him as an invader to his territory. It padded the ground, then launched itself forward, intent on running down the High Lord. Manticore glared at the creature, and it instantly burst into flames, shrieking as it became immolated.

Almost immediately, the Acklay advanced, but it did not make it far. Manticore made a clawing motion, then gripped down. The Acklay’s middle section collapsed into itself. A few of the Nexu who had begun to flank him, pounced just then, but were not collectively fast enough. Red streaks carved by a lightsaber made quick work of them. Their diced corpses now lay smoking on the ground.

Manticore leveled his fiery gaze at the remaining Nexu, who promptly backed away. It recognized certain death on an instinctual level.

Still the tremors continued, columns and walls came tumbling down. The entire dreamscape arena was being razed by the will of the Sith High Lord.

“You’ve learned well, Darth Ravenous.” Manticore intoned seriously.

“Transcend, as Darth Maul transcended. The Jedi was not his end, nor should it be yours.”

The crash and thunder of falling masonry grew louder, and jagged fissures opened up under foot, making it hard to remain standing.

“My time here has come to an end, but I sense others about. Perhaps this place will serve a greater purpose than you can imagine.”

It was then that the Sith High Lord offered a respectful nod to the Wookiee. From one warrior to another.

“Darkside empower you, Darth Ravenous.”

There was a deafening roar, as a blast of fire enveloped the zabrak, who’s presence simply vanished within the snarling flames.


Tag: WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena, Dreamscape...

The world around the Wookiee began to spin as the Zabrak's parting words left him feeling powerful...Yet empty. He got off his mount and looked around wildly, still spinning and still drunk on his bloodlust. The Wookiee let out a bellowing howl and turned, while bringing his saber down upon the Nexu's head, completely cleaving it off; to which it thumped on the sand beneath his feet. As he breathed heavier and heavier, the force fissure started closing around him and his time here was ending. He seemingly began to fade like the sand around him. The dreamscape closed to a darkness and Ravenous traveled through a luminous tunnel of raw Dark Side power.
*eyes open*
His corporeal form was no longer at the mercy of the Jedi's blade. The Jedi had also vanished, the arena animals had vanished. Ravenous stared up at what was left of the crowd; To the Emperor, to the Dawn Herald and her apprentice, to the destroyed arena. He looked down at his wounds, which were... healed... Was this.... All a dream? The Wookiee felt like he gained more than a victory against the Jedi, he felt power, combined with years upon years of knowledge and training that Manticore instilled upon his mind in their brief exchange inside the schism. A parting gift from the High Lord. He rose from his knees and climbed up through the destroyed arena floor to what was left of the battle-zone. He raised a pair of defiant fists into the air and howled a victorious howl.
Tag: greyjedi125 Sinrebirth Lady Belligerent DarthIshyZ

 

Darth Persevus IC:
~Subterranean Arena Pathways, Dreamscape~

Flames and fissures. Implosions and explosions. And two deafening roars of warrior combatants, then they were gone. Vanished from the Dreamscape, if that is what one willed to consider it as.

A being stood in the shadows of the underground pathways, about thirty feet from the area that had collapsed down due to the structural damage. The stench and sight of the dead bodies of the beasts were still present as water dripped from the ceiling in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm.

Nauseating.

A small force push later and the bodies and their accompanying smell were thrown further away and out of sight. While he was in a place such as this, he had not come to bare witness to the process of decay and wanton littering of corpses. Indeed, his initial presence was a bit of a mistake in a sense and it went quite unnoticed by at least one of the two fighters. A meditation through the dark side had managed to synchronize him with the proper 'wavelength' of the mind to arrive here. Then again, it was also likely because he was passingly familiar with the zabrak.

Speaking of whom, their presence had dimmed but not altogether vanished, it did not fool him. Nor did he believe it was intended to.

The man in his dark robes leaned against the wall nonchalantly, from beneath his hood the mask of Darth Revan once more gleamed menacingly as he spoke to the air.

"Come, Manticore. You can reveal yourself now. The wookiee has returned to the physical." A pause, then an amused tone. "I hadn't realized you were the type to go so easy on another."

Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Underground Arena, Dreamscape

He had not intended to re-emerge here, as he expected to return to his encounter with his designated sith apprentice.

Still, the encounter with the wookiee had been more than satisfying; this however, was both surprising and unexpected. After all, he had sensed the presence of those he deemed familiar within the area -though in the final analysis, this was within character, at least as far as he recalled.

“Come, Manticore. You can reveal yourself now. The wookiee has returned to the physical. I hadn’t realized you were the type to go easy on another.”

“Darth Persevus.”

The zabrak rasped the name aloud, as if perhaps speaking it would give the owner of the name material form. The tongues of flame which wreathed his form vanished, as the zabrak became realized in the subterranean arena. The sound of dripping water and dampness caught his attention.

Water. A concordant elemental opposite.

Manticore did not need to be a Sith Alchemist to understand the subtleties already at play.

“What could have possibly drawn you here?” The Sith Master asked, fiery eyes flashing at the leaning sith with the deceptively easy manner.

“I was never fond of your turn of phrase, as you already know. Only that which is hidden needs be revealed, oh man behind the mask.”

The zabrak offered a curt nod in greeting, then looked up and about, gleaning a better understanding of what transpired.

“The wookiee is a fierce and worthy warrior. He will grow even stronger.”

That was all the zabrak was willing to share on the matter, it was evident by his demeanor.

It had been quite sometime since the two had crossed paths. A lot had changed since then, at least for the zabrak.


Tag: Darth_Elu

 

Darth Persevus IC:
~Underground Arena, Dreamscape~

With the sound of flames being extinguished, Lord Manticore returned to the area before him. As usual, it had a flair for the dramatic, whether intended or not. Persevus had not yet decided whether the zabrak Sith meant doing such things at times or not. Either way, it mattered not.

"Darth Persevus."

A smile sensed rather than seen. "I see you recall my name. Your mental memory along with your noted muscle memory of lightsaber flourishes remains astute."

Persevus straightened as he watched the Sith Lord take a quick survey of their surroundings. Always watchful, always tense for the first sign of battle. This was Manticore at his core. A warrior, first and foremost. Proud, resolute, dominating. In other words, a fine future historical candidate that he was continuing to keep an eye on. But there were more ways to the Dark Side than just the blade or your typical Force techniques; far, far more.
Manticore's eyes flashed along with his words, attempting an easy tone. "What could have possibly drawn you here? I was never fond of your turn of phrase, as you already know. Only that which is hidden needs be revealed, oh man behind the mask."

Persevus merely clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward the one in front of him, his words and body language as relaxed as one could be. "Now, now Manticore. That's no way to talk to a fellow Master of the Dark Side. I may just get the impression you don't like me."

The fact that Persevus could care less about people's opinions of him practically was as clear as the walls around them. As Persevus neared, he simply ended up standing to the zabrak's left, facing the opposite direction: toward the destruction of the most recent battle. The mysterious Sith behind Revan's mask made as if he was observing the damage, though he had already taken it all in as it had unfolded.

"The wookiee is a fierce and worthy warrior. He will grow even stronger."

He continued to stay where he was, as if absorbing this succinct statement. Then he turned his head to look at his current Dreamscape companion.

"Strength is one thing, power another. But will the wookiee go beyond. That is what interests me." He looked back at the ruined arena once more. "As for that which is hidden...everything that is of import is hidden. It is meant to be unearthed, to enrich with its mysteries and wisdom. As a battle lord though, I suppose that doesn't suit you. Yet, I know if you put your mind to it, you can understand...

"How goes that hunt for Tulak Hord's holocron, anyway?"

The near fiendish grin practically radiated from Persevus. "And I must ask, why do you follow in the wake of this current Empire?"

Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Underground Arena, Dreamscape

“I will say this once, Persevus….” Manticore narrowed his eyes.

“Mind your tongue. You have earned my respect in the past, it would be a shame to see that undone.”

“Games and theatre have their place, they can be useful tools. I need not employ them all the time.”

Manticore had learned much during his previous encounter with the Sith Lord. Here stood a creature who had mastered deceit and manipulation into a fine art. True, these were not the zabrak's fare, but even he had grown to appreciate and even utilize such techniques. It was part of his evolution. To be stagnant and complacent lead to failure and death.

But this was no mere, ‘social call’. There was always a hidden purpose to everything Darth Persevus did. He would not be surprised if this visit had a three-fold purpose, that was fine. He simply did not wish to get involved in the man’s latest scheme. Manticore had his own plans now, and would not be used as a pawn by anyone.

The Sith High Lord listened, his mind peeling back the layers of their conversation. This was a ‘good exercise’ for the wits, as it were.

Manticore said all he wished to say about Darth Ravenous. Persevus would have to find other means to sate that particular interest. As for the offered ‘truism’, what was there to add? All that was of import, was indeed hidden.

Persevus spoke a string of words that caused the zabrak’s fiery eyes to flash with a heightened level of mistrust.

“How goes the hunt for Tulak Hord’s holocron, anyway?”

It was a loaded question. Manticore already knew Persevus to be a ‘collector’ and much more. The mask he wore alone, said much. The zabrak had made the mistake of sharing his desire for the holocron long ago, though he had not though of it as such at the time.

“Well….” He began. “It would seem it is not in your possession.” Manticore said, offering his trade mark smirk.

Indeed. Had Persevus the holocron, he would have taunted him with it. Manticore himself detested such theatrics.

“And I must ask, why do you follow in the wake of this current Empire?”

“Ah…” Manticore intoned and nodded slowly in understanding. Persevus was a well informed man, no doubt he had been watching all developments from the shadows, weighing possibilities, as was his custom. Something had piqued his interest, or it could be that he was simply bored. Regardless, he was here, seeking information.

“ A hundred separate pieces of durasteel are strongest when they are forged into a single solid plate, would you not agree?”

Answer a question with a question. It was Persevus, who in his amusement, thought him a great deal over 'simple games' of Dejarik.

Manticore watched carefully, for both the spoken and unspoken response. He too needed information, to weigh which possibilities were attainable at this juncture. He needed to assess where Persevus stood as a sith.


Tag: Darth_Elu

 

Darth Persevus IC:
~Underground Arena, Dreamscape~

"I will say this once, Persevus. Mind your tongue. You have earned my respect in the past, it would be a shame to see that undone."

Darth Persevus stood his ground silently, merely watching Darth Manticore, waiting till he was done speaking. There was a time and place for everything. Words were no different than platoons of soldiers like that. This conversation was as much a duel in its own right, simple though it was, as any flashy show of weapons and martial might. There was, a reaction as it were, to his retort. But he would not show it. Not yet.

"Games and theatre have their place, they can be useful tools. I need not employ them all the time."

"That all depends on your perception of the universe around you. Some never leave the stage, like they believe. You are either the actor or the unintended audience to an act by another, such is the way these days. So much more common than ever before."

Persevus glanced upwards at the ceiling of the tunnel passage they were in, the water dripping in its tedious rhythm without a care. Drip. Drip. Time the water. Time the responses. Feel the essence of all around...

His unseen grin then at the zabrak came. As well as an expected response.

"Well...It would seem it is not in your possession."

Manticore had learned since last time, had he? Very good. Instead of answering, he returned with an irritated deflection. Manticore was more careful this time. Watchful. He now knew his "opponent" much better. What more could he reveal? What more could he discern? The darkness still swirled here, in betwixt the two of them.

There was more here than met the eye. This conversation was not done. And so he asked his question about the Empire next and once more, received a response. The High Lord seemed slightly more put together at this inquiry, as if figuring out where he was going with this. He may have, he may not. Truly, they would just have to see.

"Ah..." A slow nod. "A hundred separate pieces of durasteel are strongest when they are forged into a single solid plate, would you not agree?"

A High Lord indeed. Manticore was much more than he appeared at times and he appeared as much. He had decided to try his hand in this subtle game, finally immersing himself into the scenario at play. Excellent.

Using the Force to grasp a small piece of remaining, dislodged rebar; Persevus idly rubbed it in his hand as he spoke, watching as it disintegrated from its experience with high heat and pressure earlier. He let the dust blow away from his hand.

"That would depend on the purity of the durasteel, wouldn't it. What makes this so different from the previous solid plates?"

His head turned to glance at the zabrak man again. Now. Now was the time.

"And Manticore..." he began disarmingly casual.

Just as the next droplet of idle water fell, before an eye could blink or a heartbeat could follow through with its next thump; his lightsaber was ignited and striking right where the High Lord stood. His robes billowed out from his quick movements after calling his weapon to use his hand with the Force. Was it an illusion, a trick of the Dreamscape, or actuality that an aura of blackest shadow hung about his blade? It seemed to evaporate into nothingness, as if it was never there at all, after a few seconds.

..."Watch your own tongue, as well."

He waited to see Manticore's reaction, both in technique and speed. All was telling. All was an inevitable truth, unable to be contained. A warrior spoke through the blade, so his words were simply an auxiliary to his lightsaber's sudden strike. All the while, he let forth a small bit of his own aura through the air. When one was strong enough, when one was truly serious, you received a presence. A mark. An aura. Not just in deeds or appearance. But in the Force.

For just the smallest of moments, he let Manticore feel the full effect of his being. His truth. The Power of the Dark Side.

What it meant to be: Persevus.

Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Underground Arena, Dreamscape

Fiery eyes watched the man behind the mask, Darth Persevus, draw a piece of dislodged rebar and rubbed it in his hand as he spoke. Manticore’s senses remained sharp all the while.

They both watched as the rebar disintegrated into dust and was blown away.

“That would depend on the purity of the durasteel, wouldn’t it. What makes this so different from the previous solid plates?”

The zabrak slowly nodded. Persevus understood the nature of his question regarding the Sith Empire, and his answer was equally compelling.

The principal difference between what was and the present, was that he was in it. That made all the difference.

“And Manticore…”

Fiery eyes gazed at the cold visage of Revan’s Mask. The only reason to speak his name so, was to get his undivided attention, or to misdirect…or both.

In a blink of an eye, Presevus struck out with his lightsaber with blinding speed, the weapon’s blade ignited and extruded.

“….Watch your tongue, as well.”

Manticore looked down at the humming blade, mere centimeters from his heart, then looked up again at Persevus and grinned. After a few seconds, the weapon evanesced, as if it never existed.

The Battle Lord was never in any danger, per se. The zabrak, just like Persevus, was a Master of his Craft. He’d stood just outside the Masked Man’s striking range, as was his custom….in case of such an eventuality. Besides, the now Sith Emperor had used the same exact move on him some time ago. Manticore did not fall for the same ‘trick’ twice.

He nodded slowly, then spoke in his customary rasp.

“Noted.”

Wether his answer was concerning the the man’s opinion regarding the Sith Empire, or their mutual admonition regarding court manners, it was not clear, then again, it needn’t be, for it applied to both.

Mentally, Manticore reinforced his need to acquire a hold-out lightsaber. It seemed to be all the rage amongst powerful Lords of the Sith; quite useful as well, even though it wasn’t really his style.

“Good form, but too much wind and wasted energy. It’s best when your robes don't move.” Manticore pointed out casually, offering a free critique.

Through the Force, The Sith High Lord felt Darth Persevus briefly open the door to the Power of his Presence. He had little doubt that others within the Combat Arena would feel such a prominence in the force. Manticore responded in kind, letting his Blinding Hate radiate from him like a Searing Storm of Fire, all consuming. The Dreamscape shook from the sheer potency of both darkside prominences, but only for a moment, as they faded.

“You mean to entomb me here, do you?” Manticore asked, not entirely unamused.

With a wave of his hand, he created an opening above them, parting rocks and sand. The pair began to rise then, as they were suddenly on a platform, which fit perfectly through the opening. In a span of a moment, both Manticore and Persevus were on the surface, the arena around them had a darker, more ancient feel to it. Lightning flashed above, arcing through the blackened skies. Thunder crashed and echoed in response in the far distance.

Manticore breathed-in the charged ozone and let it fill his lungs. It was galvanizing, the darkside, it filled every fiber of his being. After a moment, he regarded the masked man again.

“Will you join us?” He asked pointedly. He was never much for games after all.


Tag: @Darth_Elu

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena

Ravenous walked around the empty arena kicking dust and swinging his lightsaber loosely around to listen intently to the entertaining sound of his saber 'Whooshing'.. in the distance he could hear the intense chirping of crickets. He looked to the sky and wondered if there would ever be another battle here or if the Arena was shut down due to health hazards.. Was he... Trespassing on a closed worksite? Distracted, he followed the sound of chirping crickets to a secluded area in the arena, under the mezzanine to discover 4 large crickets against the back wall. He stared into their group, almost hypnotized by their buzzing...

 

OOC: Hey Wookiee, maybe you should practice your aim by scaring the crickets and picking them off.

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena

The crickets were feasting on a decaying bouquet of roses left from a battle long ago, like.. almost a whole week... As Ravenous continued to stare into their temporary home one of the crickets became aware of his presence and connected eyes with the Wookiee! They began to scatter across the Arena. He feared they would infest the Arena if he did not act quickly. He reached out through the force and grasped one cricket's thorax and crushed it instantly. Intense satisfaction from the death immediately filled the Wookiee, he let loose a nefarious smile. The other three crickets scattered in opposite directions throughout the Arena. His smile turned to disgust at the thought of the inevitable constant chirping that would ensue once they infested this place with their filthy offspring. He pulled his Bowcaster from its' sling across his back and aimed for a cricket that had hugged up against the barrier to the crowd seating. He pulled the trigger and watched as the cricket became vapor with the bowcaster slug's impact. It took the whole wall out behind where the cricket had been, two more to go.. His attention turned to his left and saw the vermin skittering across the sand directly across from him. As he swung his Bowcaster across his back again, he ran towards the pest and drew his Blue saber from his waist. Bringing his saber up high as he neared the Cricket, he came down vertically onto the creature, burning the cricket to a crispy 'pop'. Nothing tickled the Wookiee's fancy more than a fresh kill. He drew his eyes up to his right and behind him, he noticed a small black speck disappearing through the exploded barrier and dropping down below into the slave quarters. Ravenous let out a scoff and hurried to the impact zone. As he peered through he could see the cricket scurry along the floor and disappear again. The Wookiee hopped down and began to examine the slave quarters. They had been abandoned for some time as dust had overtaken it completely. Ravenous used his heightened tracking ability on a trail of cricket tracks in the dust. He followed them over to a corner of the quarters but saw nothing. He let the air into his nose attempting to smell for the vermin. There was too much dust and he reacted with an audible sneeze, kicking up a bunch of dust which then ensued into a large, blinding cloud. There was no movement however so he stayed put, intensely listening for any sound. What was mere seconds seemed like hours within that dust cloud. Finally the cricket, no longer able to control it's nature let out a small 'chirp'. Ravenous pushed some brooms that were stacked in the corner over and uncovered the last cricket. It contacted his eyes once again, knowing it had no chance of survival this time. It was...Trapped, just where the Wookiee wanted it. The Wookiee laughed as he maniacally stomped the cricket into the ground. Holding his arms up in victory, Ravenous let out a deafening howl to the non-existent crowd. He waited for anything. A cheer, clapping...Anything. All he heard back was... more chirping crickets...

 

OOC: Sorry for the long delay. Here is my reply.

Darth Persevus IC:
~Thundercrash Rise, Dreamscape~

"Noted."

A simple, unconcerned reply to his threat. Indeed, to both of his previous comments. There was even a small, mocking almost, grin on Darth Manticore's face. As expected of a Battle Lord. His constantly improving skills were glorious to behold and truthfully they hadn't even done anything yet! But while Manticore lived in the space of battle, strike ranges, and tactical decisions; Darth Persevus lived in the realm of information. And he was receiving just as much intel as was his opponent. Most excellent.

Behind Revan's mask, Persevus marked the casual flickering of the zabrak's eyes sweeping over his posture, even while his pretend weapon dissipated and he straightened himself. What was forthcoming nearly made him laugh with dry amusement. A critique! For free! How novel.

"Good form, but too much wind and wasted energy. It's best when your robes don't move."

Persevus didn't acknowledge the comment, nor did he become offended either. They both knew his move had been more theatrical than true. Still, Manticore's skill with the blade was indeed higher than his own. Persevus didn't need any further evidence provided on that front. Nor did he need to say so out loud. However, he keenly suspected his skill wasn't as far below the Battle Lord's as the zabrak may or may not believe. And again, it didn't matter. As good as he was with the signature weapon of one who wields the Force, it wasn't his true strength anyway.

Instead, Persevus took time to feel Manticore's hate. The heat from its intensity burned around and through him, trying to evaporate and cleave its way through his own aura. It was invigorating in a way and Persevus relished the power of the dark side, directed at him or not. Most would either cower at the display or simply grit their teeth and counter with rage of their own for trying to be outdone. But not him. That wasn't his style per se. No. Anyone who used the dark side was someone to be respected and their power, while their own, was still a conduit. This he believed.

Didn't they always say that using one's own power against them was an elite strategy too? His reciprocation of such things being directed toward him was a little extension of that philosophy and something he kept well hidden lest he needed to actually use it. For now, he simply basked in it unafraid for those few seconds before they quit playing around once more.

Oh? The Sith Lord idly realized that the dripping water had stopped. Manticore's hatred had literally evaporated it from the air. Along with the rest of it in the dreamscape's pipes in the surrounding area. How interesting...He found he liked this zabrak more than he anticipated, his very being was intriguing to say the least. Naturally, his own aura had done something as well. He could sense that Manticore had felt the truth of it from the tremor of their auras as well.

"You mean to entomb me here, do you?"

Partially. Had he wanted to, he would have been more...clear...in his actions. But he did try to subtly cause a cave in where they stood from their aura clash, curious to see if Manticore would sense it. He had. Manticore used fire to destroy water. In an odd sense, you could say Persevus had used air to crumble earth. The subversions of the dark side truly came in many forms, even amidst the aspect of natural elements.

That was when his adversary waved their hand, nigh dismissively, and immediately he took advantage of the Dreamscape's true form and abilities. The scene changed. Instead of a corridor underground, they were on a circular platform raised high above their previous location, now within a more ancient arena. Lightning and thunder hissed and crashed all around. The Dark Side's presence only intensified with the visuals around them. He watched passively as the zabrak breathed the air in around him, clearly relishing it himself. The self-deemed Sith Archaeologist understood well.

"Will you join us?"

It seemed Manticore had enough of the fun. He was ready for business now. Persevus simply folded his arms and pretended to think a few moments on the question. Then he waved a hand as casually as the zabrak.

The arena around them was still felt, but it faded from view. Instead, the arena floor had become a true platform high in the sky by itself. The lightning arced dangerously close all around them. The thunder's booms nearly shook the land they did stand on.

"This is more appropriate I think. The question you ask me is one that determines which side of this precipice I fall off. As it were."

Clasping his hands behind his back, Persevus began to walk a full circle around the perimeter of the platform/arena floor. Calm as one could be, though there was no doubt his every sense was attuned to what Manticore would do at any given moment.

"My answer is: Will you make me?" He never once stopped his stroll while speaking.

It was Manticore's turn once again. Would the coy banter continue against his wishes? Or would he dare take a more physical approach now that sparks had been emitted? Both between and around.

Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: Lord Manticore
High voltage plateau, Dreamscape

Manticore snorted at the changes of their surroundings brought about by Darth Persevus. The man in the mask had mastered the art of irritation to perfection. It was a subtlety the zabrak had finally learned to guard against, after an innumerable number of painful lessons brought about by his first master.

Still, Manticore remained quite alert. Treachery was also one of the talents Persevus was adept at employing. Naturally, such a sith would be a welcome addition to the Sith Empire, however, those who usually prosper on their own and acquire power on their own, are least likely to be recruited, unless they perceive something they could gain.

The High Lord was in no position to make any such tempting offers, and frankly, he felt he didn’t need to be.

Thunder boomed, close enough to ruffle their garments. Arcs of lightning flashed with blinding brilliance, burning the very ozone they breathed. It was exhilarating. Of course, Perceives, ever the dramatist, took his time answering.

“This is more appropriate I think. The question you ask me is one that determines which side of this precipice I fall off. As it were.”

Manticore could help but scoff. His question had been as direct as possible, and here Persevus managed to twist it to his purpose, as was his custom.

As the masked man began to pace around the platform, so did the zabrak in response, always keeping him in a direct line across for him, yet every mindful of his surroundings. With every step, Manticore reinforced his ‘force’ defenses and contingencies.

“My answer is…” Persevus intoned, as he continued to move. “…Will you make me?”

Manticore spat on the ground as his fiery eyes narrowed, irritation plainly etched in his expression.

“Elusive. As always.” The zabrak rasped. He was too annoyed to feel disappointment.

“Then I strongly advice to keep observing….from afar!”

'In other words, do not interfere'.

A gloved hand shot forth, releasing a wave of force, quite intent on pushing Darth Persevus off the platform. Manticore smirked. He would be surprised if that had worked. The masked man had proven to be quite alert in the past, there was no reason to believe it would be otherwise now.

It was time to find out what had changed, and what remained the same.


Tag: @Darth_Elu

 

IC: Jwob Sebb
Arena

Jwob walked out in the middle of the crickets-filled arena. An unfamiliar place, to be sure, but he knew that it would help him hone his saber skills. "Hey, furball! Give me a few minutes to get familiar with things first, will ya?"

He turned on the lightsaber that had been given to him by his master. The hilt was a bit smaller that he'd like. Must have belonged to a woman. He activated the blade. Orange. Quite an interesting color. The crystal was modified by a Force-user, but, apparently, not completely. He could feel the hum of the blade. He swung it back and forth. One cricket bit it. "Sorry little guy. I'm taught to respect Mother Jungle, but you just got in the way. Can't cure stupid."

He force-pushed a good portion of the crickets off the arena floor to give an area to train. Then he went back to exploring the saber. Where the "blade" was, the brain might expect there to be some weight, like a vibroblade. There was none. Aside from the vibrations, the hilt felt the same with the blade on and off. Interesting. Jwob got a feel of the hilt with one hand and with two hands.

"OK, Wook. How do we do this?"

TAG: WookieeRage

 

~Sits upon a dark cloud high above, his feet dangling over the edge as he watched the various events of the thread. Adding salt to a bag of popcorn, he then grabbed a handful and crammed it into his mouth, a few of the popped kernels missed and fell but he paid them no mind as he happily munched away on the salty goodness.~

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena.

The Ithorian fidgeted with a weapon he had not yet used. Ravenous smirked as Jwob incinerated a cricket with his 'swooshing' of the inherited hilt. He was a novice to the ways of battle... real battle. Sure, the Ithorian has shanked many of foe after a shady transaction, but this was to be an elegant fight. There was much knowledge in the Ithorian trader, more than he knew himself. Ravenous would make him recognize his own potential. "Come Ithorian, let me see if I can blend your mouths into one big enough for my sword!" Ravenous growled as he snapped his blue saber to life, reserving his Sith blade. Kernels of popping corn rained down, attracting more filthy crickets..
Tag: DarthIshyZ

 

IC: Jwob Sebb
Arena

"Come Ithorian, let me see if I can blend your mouths into one big enough for my sword!" he said. Jwob smiled. He'd have to do better than that. He'd heard so many comments about his lovely countenance, some much more imaginative than that, that he just had to muse at it for a couple seconds. "You know, I appreciate that. But no, thank you. I'd appreciate it better if you took a shower. You know you smell like a wet hound? How about I give you a shave?"

The crickets were coming again. He pushed another batch away. They're gonnna have to fend for themselves now, though. Jwob examined the rest of his surroundings. How much room was on the arena area. Potholes (you'd think this group could patch their playground. tsk tsk), wind direction, temperature.

The wookiee's size was impressive. Both height and shoulder width. Hmmm... how to take advantage of that?

Tag: WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena

Ravenous was irked at Jwob's shower comment. He simply did not understand the troubles of a Wookiee and their hygiene. Fur is so much harder to dry than skin, and stinks worse when not dried quickly...
He began circling the Ithorian, twirling his saber in his right hand. He pointed to Jwob, "Jump on my blade while you can Jwob, I won't be as gentle.". Ravenous kicked some dirt up at Jwob and feigned an attack, pulling back to test the Ithorian's reflexes.
Tag:DarthIshyZ

 

IC: Jwob Sebb
Arena

Hmmm... Jump on my blade, he says. "You may call me Mr. Sebb. I'm Jwob only to my friends, sir." The Wookiee lunged at him. Jwob fell for the feint and raised his saber. An interesting opponent this Wookiee.

Jwob thought of his own feint. He grabbed some of the crickets with the Force and tossed them at the animal's face. They took flight and buzzed all around him before settling down.

Tag: WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena

Ravenous laughed hysterically when Jwob fell for the feint. Holding his stomach and curling over. It was a hearty laugh. Before the Wookiee knew it, he had a mouth full of crickets gifted to him from the Ithorian himself; utilizing force telekinesis. Ravenous, in a somewhat 'masked freak-out' flailed his hands onto his face, knocking the vile creatures down. Ravenous then let out a cough and composed himself as if nothing happened. He looked down in disgust and maniacally smashed the crickets around his feet as he ignited his saber once again.
Tag:DarthIshyZ

 

IC: Mr. Sebb
Arena

"Taste good?" Jwob started to circle the Wookiee as well. His eyes watering a bit from the dirt, he continued, "You should try them with Devaronian chocolate. Delicious." Jwob smiled his best smile as he circled. The sun was directly overhead, so he couldn't get any benefit from that. The Wookiee's blue lightsaber was humming. The other one stayed still. "Come on, sir. Let's see what you've got."

Tag: WookieeRage

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Arena

"Come on, sir. Let's see what you've got."

Alright...

Ravenous hopped for a stutter step and built up momentum for a slash at mid-level from his right to left.

"Let's!"
Tag:DarthIshyZ