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Star Wars CLOSED The Final Trial of Vyatoris - a One on One RP

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Silvertough, May 14, 2020.

  1. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: The Late Darth Insipid
    En route

    It was a curious sensation, to be dead. His body had been consumed by an Anzati, even as his spirit pressed onto another form. But his flesh, it retained memory, and an echo remained in the Force. Within the confines of the spiritual stores of Bernael, he had managed to regroup that memory, that echo, into a form of its own.

    A gravemind, it could be said.

    He did so with the purpose of connecting with the victims of the Anzati.

    One arrived in short order that caught the eye of the late Darth Insipid.

    Vyatoris
    , a treacherous Miraluka who had died for attempting to kill Insipid, had been redefined in the murk of the Anzati's spirit-scape, and Insipid, after a time querying the Sith apprentice about the Black Coat, shrugged and decided to use their death as a springboard for a quest.

    Into the Netherworld.

    So here they were, walking through a circular tunnel of gloom, pushing deeper into and through the spirit-scape of Bernael, where the dead were kept, and as they reached the edge, where they would no longer exist within him, but pass on, a fact Insipid had prepared the Miraluka for, the deceased Dark Lord looked at the man, grinning coyly..

    "So, are you ready for your Final Trial - to complete your death, and move into the afterlife?"

    IC: Vyatoris

    The jumbled collection of thoughts and ideals that made up the corporeal form of the Miraluka named Vyatoris followed closely behind that of Darth Insipid, making no attempt to hide the growing curiosity bubbling from within. It had been his own actions which had led him to this moment, this precipice of the unknown.

    To his core, Vyatoris was a being of questions. Consumed by a great hunger for answers about the universe. Yes, he had died. But in doing so he had unlocked a pathway in which he would never have been able to travel in life. Heaven, Hell, the Afterlife, the Netherworld of the Force, all names for where one supposedly went after death. For some, one's journey to the afterlife was to be celebrated, for others, prolonged by any means necessary.

    For Vyatoris? Oh, he was positively giddy.

    He rubbed his hands together, returning Insipid's coy grin with one of almost childlike wonder. "Oh my dear Emperor, you have no idea.."

    Tags: @Sinrebirth , @Lady Belligerent , @HanSolo29 @Darth_wanderguard , @greyjedi125 , @QueenSabe7 , @darthbernael
     
  2. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    [​IMG]

    IC: The Late Darth Insipid
    Walking

    Buoyed by Vyatoris' comments, they walked on. The ground became rocky, and they came to a ridge, peering over it into an area which looked like some kind of dark and ruined Sith world. The world was perpetually shadowed, an eclipse evident through the clouded and overcast sky. There appeared to be a grounded dipyramid ahead; an immense crack ran through it - Mortis, or, perhaps, a monolith of similar design. After it had landed, or perhaps as a result of its crash, it had split, and the world had been split by the selfsame impact or even explosion.

    "No surprises on the architectural choices for the Netherworld," Insipid said drily. "Keep an eye out for any designs that appear to be snakes, or tendrils... or entrails, I suppose," he said, trailing off.

    To make their way forward they would have to climb down the cliff edge, but it put them down atop the crevasse that seemed to be a gash through the worlds surface, cutting through the broken building in the distance. Insipid absently ignited a lightsaber and cut at the rock, to attempt to create another way, but on inspection there was no damage.

    "It seems we must take the path before us."

    Floating atop the crevasse, suspended above air, Insipid could spy a boat. Summoning his understanding of various belief systems - long-dead religion was the pet project of a loremaster. "Ah, yes, that'll be Daritha Charon, I expect."

    [​IMG]

    "This is truly a tale of the Nine Corellian Hells, isn't it?" Insipid smirked to himself, deactivating the blade and beginning to make his way down. It was only as they neared it that the scale became apparent; the vessel was massive, suspended atop the depths of the planet as if by repulsorlift.

    Insipid looked at Vyatoris. "I've been here a few times, or, near enough. You may want to introduce yourself and barter for passage."

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
  3. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    Netherworld of the Force

    So. This is the Netherworld eh? Vyatoris thought, allowing himself to lag a few paces behind Insipid. The architecture is oddly.. Sith-y.. Curious. Wonder if those of the light and those of the dark share the same plane, or if we are separated.. Hmph.

    Vyatoris walked on, making no attempt to hide his curiosity. Everything looked so tantalizingly familiar, yet off, in such a tiny amount to throw off any sense of comfort one may hold in a recognizable location. That being said..

    The monolithic dipyramid which jutted out of the distant horizon ahead did bear a striking resemblance to the Sith temple Vyatoris had been imprisoned inside for all those long years. Of course, his temple had been smaller, less physically imposing in design. Vyatoris shivered unconsciously, a chill seeping through his thick robes as his gaze became locked onto the dipyramid.

    The surface was cracked, the structure itself split asunder - dead. The Miraluka's gaze wandered, shifting between the other various outcroppings of rock or metal, before finally landing upon the back of Insipid's head. This world.. If it could be even called that, has long since perished.. His brow furrowed as he peered out into the somber skies. If it ever lived to begin with..

    "Ah, yes, that'll be Daritha Charon, I expect."

    Vyatoris turned back to look at Insipid, specifically the direction he himself was staring. Off in the distance, the Miraluka could just about see what appeared to be a large, floating boat, crewed by a single being.

    "This is truly a tale of the Nine Corellian Hells, isn't it?" Insipid smirked to himself, deactivating the blade and beginning to make his way down. It was only as they neared it that the scale became apparent; the vessel was massive, suspended atop the depths of the planet as if by repulsorlift.

    Insipid looked at Vyatoris. "I've been here a few times, or, near enough. You may want to introduce yourself and barter for passage."

    "It would appear as if a number of the ancients have their beliefs represented in this realm.." Vyatoris said, taking a moment to carefully clamber over an outcropping of stone. "The question is, where they all partially correct? Each one only able to perceive a tiny piece of the greater puzzle?" He stroked his chin, a pessimistic thought overtaking him. "Or is this somehow just a projection of what each think this place should look like?"

    Vyatoris sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the ferryman atop the massive boat. "In some myths, those who wish to cross into the afterlife must first bribe the ferryman with a form of currency.." He said, taking a few steps ahead of Insipid. "Judging by the dreary atmosphere.. I'm assuming it won't be as simple as handing over a credit chit.."


    He began walking parallel to the ship, towards the ferryman without ever touching its ship. Growing closer, Vyatoris' hand inevitably dropped to his waist, resting uneasily atop the hilt of his lightsaber. "Excuse me my friend!" Vyatoris called out, cupping his mouth with his free hand. "My name is Azet.. er.. Vyatoris! It has been explained to me that you offer transport, for some manner of price!"

    The Miraluka waited for a moment, racking his brain for something that could be used for trade. "I uh, don't have much in the way of physicality to offer you, but, I can barter with information, if you so wish!" Vyatoris offered, momentarily glancing back towards Insipid with a raised eyebrow.


    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  4. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    Floating above a crack in the world

    The Miraluka was sheepish to the boatkeeper, and Insipid simply shrugged, innocent as ever, eyebrows raised back, eyes blinking. Charon leaned down to Vyatoris, contorting his oversized body around itself to drop to his level. Bones crackled with the movement of the ancient creature, and Insipid folded his arms and leaned on the outcropping.

    What could you offer the Dead, Blind One?

    The voice did not emerge from his bone jaw, but in their minds, a hard, guttural noise that reverberated their skulls. An oversized hand reached out, slowly, clearly with the intend to crush the Miraluka, and Insipid stepped forward. "Daritha, apologies, he's not been this way before."

    The skeletal face turned to Insipid. You are his Guide? You vouch for him...?

    The Dark Lord looked to Vyatoris. "I mean, he did try to kill me."

    A hacking cough from Charon; Insipid recognised a laugh. Of courseee. Who hasn't, vapid one.

    "Funny," Insipid said, flatly. He held out a hand, palm up. "But at least tell him the rule, Ferryman."

    The way is paid for in souls. One soul in, one soul out. Without payment, you will cease within an hour of your death. Your soul will belong to the Father of Shadows by choosing to enter; it cannot be offered again to leave. Almost as an after-thought, Charon lifted a finger, and another cracking of the joint sounded out. Your Guide cannot be offered!

    Insipid sighed. "What he means is that you wager your own non-existence." A smirk ."We're dead, after all. But that doesn't mean we cease to be. To enter the Netherworld with our sense of self intact is our wager. The Shadows do allow people to leave, so don't concern yourself overly." Insipid snorted.

    "Of course, if you want to avoid offering your soul to him, there is an alternative... a more violent one, of course."

    Charon turned his oversized head to stare at Insipid. He stared back.

    "I did mention that he's a traitor, didn't I?"

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
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  5. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris

    Vyatoris unconsciously took a step backwards as the sheer mass of the ferryman loomed overhead. The creaks and groans of its bones sounding more akin to the ship it was charged with guiding than the sounds of any real living being.

    It was.. Unnerving.

    Vyatoris listened along to the conversation between Insipid and the Ferryman, taking the moment to readjust his robe. It was probably a futile measure, what being dead and all, but the routine of it all did bring the Miraluka some sense of normalcy, whatever that would mean in this place.

    He simply raised an eyebrow at the stated rules. They seemed clear enough, although with Insipid involved, there was more than likely some innumerable amount of loopholes one could slip through. Vyatoris shrugged to himself. If I can't find them immediately, I'm sure I will eventually. Certainly appears as if I'll have plenty of time to muck about in here..

    "Oh no, I think I'll leave my days of betrayal back with the living." Vyatoris said, chuckling. "If the overall atmosphere is any indication, what lies beyond your vessel is far more interesting to me than some petty squabble in the here and now." He said, shifting his gaze from Insipid and the Ferryman. "I'll play along. I wager my soul for entry." He said, clasping his hands together behind his back, an excited smile growing once more on his face.


    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
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  6. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    Heading into the depths

    "Gooooood," said Charon, his voice satisfied, the vowel dragged out in an oily manner. He turned, and Insipid gestured for Vyatoris to follow. The immense vessel turned, empty and devoid, above the crack in the world of Death. When they reached the edge, Insipid continued to Guide.

    "Now where were we. Ah yes," Insipid continued. "While I would have liked to see how you did against the Ferryman, violence is merely another language here, and a respected one at that. We will expect to meet all manner of threat and innuendo of conflict along the way." He tapped his chin as he leaned on the edge; they were at the highest level of the multi-deck ship. "But one must remember that the Netherworld is singular; all dead come here - all realities funnel in. The answers we seek will pool here, as the dead fall into these depths."

    Insipid chuckled slightly. "Indeed, those who have died and managed to escape the confines of this realm can meet us. Those who have masted Sith techniques of essence transfer - they enter the first level of Hell, one would say, the most porous barrier between where we were died and lived."

    "The legends that speak of this place, spoken by the first Daritha Nyax - now a Corellian fairytale to scare children to sleep - are factually accurate, for the most part, I discovered on my own return from this place." Insipid chuckled softly. "But I digress."

    "The Circles correspond to the Eight Evil Thoughts, the predecessors to what religions renamed the Seven Deadly Sins, though of course there are Nine, and the Ninth, well..." Insipid chuckled. "Only Sith can enter it; because we embrace Treachery. I'll let you decide which Circle is which, if we get that far."

    As the ship arrived, Insipid leapt with a surge of the Force, reaching the bank. The broken monolith nonetheless had an entrance, shadowed as ever.

    [​IMG]

    Charon paid them no heed, and turned away, to seek more souls to wager with and barter.

    Insipid cleared his voice, and spoke out to the entrance.

    We are Two, as per the Way,
    Guide and Soul, wager paid.
    Our Chains we offer to the Father,
    The Shadows we Embrace,
    In Pain, In Death, In Truth
    Break our Chains, and Rule as Two,
    Your eternal vessels,
    Eternally seeking the Cloak.

    There was a rumble, and a hidden depth unlocked.

    "You might want to remember that," Insipid whispered. "Don't be surprised if we encountered some of our former colleagues, by the way. A few of us died on our way to your reality." He chuckled slightly. "The God of the Sith is a fickle ruler, as are all the Old Ones, those beautiful cosmic horrors."

    His voice modulated. "Are we accepted?"

    They would be called in, and an entire reality described and lain out before them, soon enough.

    TAG: @Silvertough, @QueenSabe7
     
    Last edited: Jun 25, 2020
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  7. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    Spelunking the afterlife

    His answer accepted by Charon, Vyatoris made his way onto the massive, multi-leveled ship, following closely behind Insipid. After they boarded, the vessel turned, beginning once again its eternal duty.

    Vyatoris clasped his hands in the small of his back, silently following behind his Guide as he delivered his exposition. Vyatoris tilted his chin towards Insipid, an amused expression forming on his lips. "I'm afraid I will continue to disappoint, my Lord. The actions that ultimately brought me to this place were of a single pathway. It remains to be seen how altering that path will effect my future." He said, the gaze of his vestigial eyes seemingly boring holes into the face of Insipid, an emotionless stare which offered nothing in the way of his inner thoughts.

    He broke his unblinking gaze a moment later, his face tilting back towards the apparent endless expanse making up the world of Death. "I wonder if we'll see my old Master.." Vyatoris stroked his chin. "Pretty sure the old Wookiee died.. How troublesome it must be, to keep track of those who were lost, hm?"

    "Or has the list become so long it no longer effects you?" He added quietly, crossing his arms across his chest, his hands disappearing within the confines of his robe's sleeves. The answer wasn't important, truth be told. In all reality, Vyatoris expected the barb to be ignored altogether. He would've. But even now, there was some wriggling curiosity about Insipid that Vyatoris couldn't quite shake off. A desire to learn the secrets of a being that by all accounts, should have died, and stayed dead, a very long time ago.


    The ship came to a lumbering halt. signaling the pairs arrival, their destination remaining unknown to the Miraluka, even as Insipid lept from the ship's gunwale to the entrance of a nearby monolith. An eyebrow raised, Vyatoris followed suite, landing effortlessly behind his Guide.

    Vyatoris remained silent through Insipid's incantation, committing the specific verses to memory. It would do him no good if he became trapped after all. He simply nodded in response to Insipid's words of warning, focusing entirely on the now open entrance to the monolith.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  8. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    At the Entrance

    "I wonder if we'll see my old Master.."
    Vyatoris stroked his chin. "Pretty sure the old Wookiee died.. How troublesome it must be, to keep track of those who were lost, hm?"

    "Or has the list become so long it no longer effects you?"

    Insipid glowered, slightly, and also at the reference to Ravenous. The Wookiee-Sithspawn may very well have been dead; who knew?

    "There are names I lament, names I do not. Faces that haunt me, bodies that I used to hold as trophies," the Sith Lord said with a shrug. "I try to remember them all, but I have been alive for over a century and a half now... I have shed my skin... oh, half a dozen times, if not more." He wondered. "But one always remembers the first time you die."

    He sounded indulgent, as if to spin a self-depreciating yarn. "My Dark Lord - dead some two decades ago now, back in the old, ended timeline. Darth Krayt. I had returned from exile, threatened him with Holocrons I had stolen. Knew, I did, that Krayt was dying, consumed by a living armour eating at his body." He chuckled. "I thought I had posture, and poise, and everything I needed to reclaim a position in the One Sith; leverage - and he killed me!" It became a laugh; explosive. "All my politicking; for naught. It taught me a valuable lesson."

    "Thankfully I had made a spiritual anchor of certain of my followers..." Another indulgent smirk. "My lover at the time, actually, Darth Ardeur, but I did not truly acquire enough power to become corporeal again until I met Darth Helinith, who rejoined the Order recently..." A memory fluttered by. "This was just before I met Senator Aryan Graul and began to set into motion our ultimate seizure of galaxy... before Manticore and Syren failed to prevent the release of aforementioned God of the Sith..."

    Insipid was regaling a long tale, but it had lessons. "Your path ended quite so abruptly because of that single pathway. Did I wage a Shadow War for control of the Sith Order from Darth Mystique and Darth Ventris by simply having a single body prepared? Did I survive a battle with that God of the Sith without having a plot beforehand to reanimate a Celestial corpse? Did I face my fellow Triumvir Darth Haretisch at the start of the War of the Three with the intention that I would in-fact win?" Insipid was monologuing by now, but he had not monologued in some time... "No, I did not..."

    A wicked grin. "Though I have to admit Snoke did cause all manner of problems in my Grand Design." He shrugged. "But here I am, the sole Dark Lord of the Sith in this reality... dead or alive... my fellow Dark Lords, where are they? I know not, and that is all I truly need to know - and how best to prepare for their inevitable return."

    "Come, come, we tarry," Insipid said, striding forward. The doors had slid open while he spoke, and he swept forward, his staff tapping away on the floor. "The Black Coat; the Change; my fellow Triumvirs; Snoke and the Dark itself."

    "We shall master them - together."

    In short order, they crossed the threshold and a realm was lain out before them.

    [​IMG]

    There was a flash of blinding light, and they stood in a city, with an ancient but yet modern feel.

    Insipid regarded it with an arched eyebrow. There was a tension to the air; to the Force.

    He blinked, and then looked up.

    [​IMG]

    They were flying down from the sky, looking completely out of place but causing a cacophony of screams and cries out in panic; hundreds of people seeing a Fanged God and Winged Goddess soaring down with a snarl and a howl.

    They were coming towards them.

    Insipid hissed, abandoning Vyatoris to escape, survive, fight, or, of course, die again.

    TAG: @Silvertough

    And some mentions because why not...

    @TheSithGirly (Darth Krayt reminisce from 128 ABY)

    @ma_petite (Darth Ardeur reminisce because why not)

    @darthhelinith (memories, eh? Nice body share memories...)

    @HanSolo29 (;))

    @NickLitYouAFlame, @Teegirloo (Shadow War memories!)

    @QueenSabe7, @greyjedi125 (NST I reminisce)

    @Darth_wanderguard (NST II memories, eh?)
     
  9. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    OOC: Dreadfully sorry for the delay, once again [face_plain]. I should be able to put up new posts on the regular from now on.

    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    A brave new world

    Vyatoris stood quietly behind Insipid, more from respect than anything else, as the Sith monologued. His words carried with them knowledge, of successes and failures, an inner insight which Vyatoris couldn't help but feel was directed towards himself in some manner.

    The Miraluka pursed his lips, unable to decide which question to ask first, before deciding to simply stay quiet for the moment. There were parallels in their combined lives, minor ones admittedly, but parallels nonetheless. They had both, at some point in their life jumped the gun on a strategy, overestimating their abilities with a lethal result. The difference of course being that Insipid always managed to come back, to learn and adapt from his mistakes, each death propelling him forwards with new wisdom.

    Perhaps that had been his own greatest failure? Amidst the plentiful flaws which had hobbled him in his final days, could it have simply been haste which had struck the final blow?

    No. That was simply the straw which broke the camel's back. His gaze fell upon the towering doors, a tinge of remorse evident on his face as the towering doors began to slide open.

    Perhaps I was always supposed to come here.. Destined for failure in the most dramatic of ways. All for this. The thought came and went, carrying with it a sting of cruel irony. All he had wanted in life was knowledge, yet the most important of all could only be found in death.

    He breathed a sigh of melancholy, shaking his head as he followed behind Insipid into the now open doorway. It would seem this had been only the first lesson, what with many more soon to come.

    There was a flash of blinding light, and they stood in a city, with an ancient but yet modern feel. Vyatoris raised a hand to shield his eyes, a useless gesture born from some dead genetic code, a relic from his species' past. Just another curiosity to indulge in at a later date.

    Distracted, he hadn't noticed his guide look up to the sky, or feel his aura shift to in warning.

    He did however, feel the screams. Winged beasts, one of light and one of dark, swooped in from above, a combined writhing mass of tooth and claw which beset upon them with great fury.

    Vyatoris looked to Insipid for guidance, only to find the spot he had just been occupying to be devoid of his presence. The Miraluka returned his focus to the pair of creatures screeching towards him, a simple, deadpan groan escaping from his lips.

    "The next lesson, I presume.." He stated dryly, slowly palming the hilt of his blade with his off-hand and activating it with a snap-hiss.

    I'm dead! And presumably those things are as well! How am I supposed to kill something that's already dead! It's not like I can die again, right?! The thought perished from his mind as the first beast, the Fanged God, rammed his head into the sternum of Vyatoris, tossing the Miraluka tumbling head over heel into the sky, akin to an insignificant sack of meat rag dolling about.

    Before he could even take note of what had happened, the Winged Goddess attacked next, raking her claws over his back as he completed his midair arc, leaving it a tattered, bloody mess.

    Vyatoris unceremoniously impacted back into the ground, left gasping for air within the crater his own mangled body had created. "Y-yep.." He sputtered between clenched teeth, the taste of iron overwhelming his taste buds. "This.. This is all still real.. The second.. lesson.. Of the day.."

    The Winged Goddess let out a mighty roar from above, indicating the start of his next attack. Vyatoris clawed his way upwards, rising from his makeshift grave with agonizing slowness.


    "Through Passion.. I gain strength.." The words flowed free from his bloodied lips as the Winged Goddess once more began her descent. "Through Strength.. Power." He ignored the creaks and groans of his battered body as he rose to his feet. "Through Power, I gain victory." A familiar mantra, a familiarity which brought with it a power of its own.

    Vyatoris readied his lightsaber, pointing it upwards towards the rapidly descending beast in clear defiance of it's superiority. "Through Victory, my chains are broken." He exhaled, the prior debilitating pain of his fractured breastbone now nothing more than a dull ache. Hatred flowed forward unhindered a broken dam which cleansed the mind. Lightning crackled in his wake, an untamed display of his own might.

    Insipid always was one for theatrics. Maybe this unnecessary display would make up some for the what had transpired in the real world. Probably not, but hell, it felt good to let loose every now and then..

    The Winged Goddess careened downwards, its maw a blistering torrent of teeth and claw.

    "The Force shall set me free!" Vyatoris exclaimed with a wild grin, reveling in his own volatile aura as the beast closed in. Hands outstretched, he let forth a powerful discharge of lightning, aimed directly at the descending beast's gnashing maw.

    His lightsaber lept from his hands, hurled in a dazzling arc around the Winged Goddess, towards the rapidly descending Fanged God not far behind his compatriot. All the while, lightning surged from Vyatoris' fingertips, volley after volley into the Winged Goddess.

    A manic cackle erupted from his lips, unheard over the combined screeches of the paired beasts as they once more impacted into the lone Sith, their combined weight casting a horrific crunch, leaving only an unnerving silence in their wake..

    Moments passed, yet all remained still, leaving the question of a victor, curiously unanswered. Was there to be a second round? A third? Or had all perished together. Only time would tell.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  10. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    New world; same problems

    There was a ruckus, and what sounded like Vyatoris possibly losing the plot. Insipid peered around what he'd hidden behind; a now-broken building. He shook his head, and saw the two monsters brawling with the Sith. They weren't coordinating, and Insipid was sure they interfering with each other. After they crashed into the Miraluka again, Insipid could feel that the mans body had acquired a set of broken bones; ribs, a collarbone, a dislocated shoulder on the other side to the second fracture -

    The two flying creatures careened away, and began squabbling among themselves, scratching and pawing and biting. Insipid reached out, levitating Vyatoris slightly and drawing him deftly to him. Insipid hissed at the man as he placed him the shadow of the building. "You're not supposed to try and fight the monsters I ran away from. Learn, before your afterlife is forfeit!"

    But in-spite of himself, he chuckled, and waggled his fingers to re-socket the shoulder -

    He cast out his senses, looking out for who was supposed to be here.

    The next guide, perhaps?

    TAG: @Silvertough, @QueenSabe7
     
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  11. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    Study Break

    Minutes passed before the twin beasts finally moved once more, each once more taking to the skies with powerful strokes of their wings. The battle was over, the victors seemingly content with their results as they squabbled among themselves.

    Vyatoris, for his part, was incredibly still alive. His lightning had, regrettably, done little in the way of damaged to the Winged Goddess, his lightsaber even less so to the Fanged God. What was that he said about being hasty? He quickly found himself being levitated away from his crater, towards one of the few nearby buildings in the area. Vyatoris offered little resistance to the manhandling, not that he really could even if he wanted to. What surge of power he had harnessed had dissipated as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him a broken man in more ways than one.

    The first lesson was to act cautiously.. to think before acting.. Simply fantastic work there.. Vyatoris thought ,offering a sheepish smile to the scowling face of Insipid.

    Insipid hissed at him as he placed him the shadow of the building. "You're not supposed to try and fight the monsters I ran away from. Learn, before your afterlife is forfeit!"

    Vyatoris slowly sat up, beginning the familiar task of stitching together internal wounds with the force. "Hng.. Trust me, lesson learned.. Consider me your shadow for the foreseeable future.." He grunted in protests as his shoulder suddenly popped back into place, an assist from Insipid. "Let's chalk that character trait up to my first Master, eh?"

    "While clearly pointless.. Did it at least look impressive?" Vyatoris asked, unable to suppress chuckling as well. "My failures always seem to look cool, if nothing else."

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
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  12. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    Writing an epitaph

    He lightly snorted at Vyatoris. "Fine, it looked cool. But those are Force Gods."

    Insipid pointed at them. "The Winged Goddess, and the Fanged God. The Daughter, the light side incarnate, and the Son, the dark side incarnate." He wrinkled his face. "Dead Gods, at that. They died some years before my and your time."

    The Sith Lord gestured to the unfamiliar City. "The first Circle is always the past; our sins, catching up with us, inadvertent or not... so I wonder whose sin we are facing here? Is it connected to us, or is someone simply already here, and we have crossed paths with their trial?"

    He was silent as he slipped from alleyway to alleyway, and he noted the massive variety of species that were present - even some extinct ones, such as the original red-skinned Sith species, which made no sense. "In-fact, these Gods died in both of our timelines... it's a consistency to both our pasts... well, your future, as you were supposed to have died a millennium ago, I recall."

    "I wonder if its a clue, to where my reality and yours end." Insipid shrugged. The two creatures were no longer brawling - they were searching for something. Not them, he was sure of that. Vaguely sure, anyway. The Force tugged at them, drawing them towards the outskirts of the City. "Can you feel that?"

    He looked back at the Clock-Tower, which was now aflame... indeed, much of the City was.

    "We need to find the Gate to the next Circle, and we can move onwards."

    TAG: @Silvertough

    @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Mitth_Fisto (side-mentions, not a direct TAG, of course, merely a side one)
     
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  13. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    Undead Safari

    Like a renowned maestro before his orchestra, Vyatoris sent a flow of the dark side throughout his body, practically willing his body to once again stitch itself back together. As was becoming a frankly worrying trend, apparently even after death, bone, muscles, sinews and tendons, all began the process of mending themselves, all under the deft direction of Vyatoris' hand.

    The Miraluka followed behind Insipid, casting a cursory glance up at his most recent attackers. "I was under the impression that the Force had no need of physical avatars.. This is certainly the first I have ever heard of such a phenomena.." He said, stroking his chin. "Perhaps the Force has simply figured out a way to make do after their deaths.." Vyatoris offered, before chuckling to himself. "How is it that we all rely so heavily on the Force, yet no nothing about it?"

    Such talk always brought about unnerving questions. Questions which seldom had helpful answers, if any at all. Did the very nature of the Force allow such abstract concepts as free will? It certainly influenced the galaxy at large in some manner, both subtly and obtusely. Vyatoris perished the thought without further debate. Such questions had been debated for as long as the galaxy had known about the force. It's secrets were certainly not going to be uncovered by a single dead Sith.

    But a group of Sith on the other hand.. All dedicated to a singular cause of the acquisition of knowledge.. The thought came and went, leaving the Miraluka with a wistful frown. As if.

    Vyatoris offered Insipid a shrug in response to his open-ended questions. "Frankly, I'm surprised that we haven't run into other pilgrims like ourselves. You would have thought that at least someone would have found this place before us." He said, pausing to stare at a passing Pureblood Sith. "As you've alluded to, time doesn't appear to be linear in this place.. Although, perhaps if there is anyone else, they've simply made it further in?"


    He offered the Pureblood a tiny wave, which was promptly ignored. Vyatoris shrugged and continued on.

    As they walked, Vyatoris slowly became aware of something pulling his attention away from the city, a subtle tugging which had at some point altered their path towards the outskirts of the City.

    "Can you feel that?" Insipid asked.

    Vyatoris gave a shallow nod, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Something was off, like the sense of unease felt right before a bad storm. The central clock tower burst suddenly into flames, followed shortly thereafter by the town itself.

    Yet, Vyatoris felt nothing unique about the situation, simply a feeling of "yeah alright". Coupled with the seeming lack of panic from the city itself about the general situation, he just cocked an eyebrow and continued behind Insipid. "My thoughts exactly, My Lord." He stated, without a hint of humor. "I take it you know the way?"

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  14. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
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  15. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    City going down in flames

    In the Force, he could recognise the entities at work here, and though he didn't know this place, he could guess this was a moment in the past - an escape of Abeloth, the Bringer of Chaos. It happened when the flow of the Force was shattered, and as Abeloth was dead, it meant it pre-dated her actions during the Apocalypse, a century before the End of Time.

    "Come on, this way," Insipid said, grimacing.

    In short order, they picked their way across the City, noting that most of the conflict was taking place at the Clock-Tower. There were a wave of deaths in the Force, as a dozen or more lives winked out, and a pain that resonated from at least one Force user, but Insipid didn't allow it to draw Vytorias back. They reached a door which seemed as nondescript as the rest, until it opened as if by the weight of whatever was behind it.

    [​IMG]

    The light subsumed them both, and Insipid appeared in a wasteland, looking at himself and turning back to Vyatoris. He looked as he did many, many decades ago, in his late thirties, before the Dark Side had fully consumed his looks, and indeed, soul. Even anointed as Darth, there were long years in which he had hoped that he would break the cycle, and looked like this...

    [​IMG]

    He looked for the Miraluka, to how he had looked before he fell.

    For the moment, he ignored the barren world before them for the transformation that the younger man had been subjected to.

    What was it with this journey?

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
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  16. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    Broken Mirrors

    The screams came later, delayed in their increasing cacophony as the city below became swallowed in crimson hellfire. Vyatoris stood quietly, stone faced as his senses were battered by the wails of the recently damned. The Miraluka clenched his fists, his frame trembling in grief.

    He couldn't escape from what was happening below. The Force had gifted his species with sight, and now he wished for nothing more than to have it be stripped away. Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, all would perish tonight, as the encroaching flames melted flesh from bone in unspeakable torment.

    "Come on, this way," Insipid said, grimacing.

    Vyatoris nodded sullenly, using what little willpower he had left to focus on the back of Insipid's head, counting each strand of hair as the Force branded images of agony into his brain. Not since Bedlam had he borne witness to such destruction. Not since Typhojem and his cadre of other Gods at his back. The Miraluka had broken then, his mind shattering to protect himself. The pair continued their solemn march through the ruined streets, traversing over the broken remains of building and body alike.

    Vyatoris' breath hastened, as what minuscule mental barriers he had remaining were peeled back, stripped away as rolling waves of death washed over him. His knuckles became bone white, clenched together in a death grip as he followed behind Insipid.

    One thousand one hundred and twenty.. One thousand one hundred twenty one.. One thousand..One hundred and twenty two.. One thousand..-

    It was too much. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think! Insipid had brought him here! This was his fault! Kill him! End his torment and our own!

    He grimaced, hyperventilating as he grabbed a fistful of his own hair in his hands. One thousand t..three h-hundred..!

    The world turned a blinding white, the sounds and sights of the dying city fading from view.

    Vyatoris found himself unceremoniously on his hands and knees, dry-heaving into the arid dirt mere inches from his face. Minutes passed with the Miraluka holding his position, hacking and coughing up whatever constituted the contents of his stomach. Gingerly, he began to rise to his feet, tentatively rubbing at his temples with his fingers.

    Even in death, he found himself lacking. Once again reduced to a vulnerable mess, his mind defenseless against the elder horrors of the Force. Pathetic. He glanced towards Insipid, his changed appearance failing to immediately register. "I.. I'm sorry.. I d-don't.. I don't know what happened.. I couldn't block it out.." He whispered,exhaling heavily. "I'm sorry.."

    Vyatoris chewed on his lip, the fingers that were massaging his temple moving back to run through his hair. He faltered, feeling something which hadn't hung behind his ear since before his reawakening. But, but that was impossible. With agonizing trepidation, he curled his fingers around the object and slowly pulled it forwards into view.


    A braid, no more than an inch in circumference of silver-white hair. With trembling fingers, he released the braid of hair, letting it fall back into place as he looked towards Insipid in abject curiosity. Insipid was different as well, younger, less world-weary. Younger.

    Vyatoris rocked on his heels, unable to form words as realization came crashing down upon him. W-why.. Why do I have my Padawan braid..? I don't want this. I don't want to see this me again..! Please? He mindlessly rolled his Padawan braid between his fingertips, an old habit he had developed during time of stress. It didn't bring comfort this time. Only memories, of pain and betrayal of his own doing.

    Why? He silently mouthed, trembling once more.


    TAG: @Sinrebirth

    OOC: Yay more Miraluka trauma [face_mischief][face_whistling]
     
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  17. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid the Third
    Second Level of Hell

    For a moment, there was a swath of impressions from the Miraluka. He was struggling along their journey through the Underworld, and his mind compressed and then resisted... until...

    A little levity was in order.

    The Sith Lord peered at Vyatoris and chuckled. "You're a traitor in many more ways than I realised, my old Jedi friend." Aden/Insipid clucked over him, stroking his younger chin. "Who would have known? Or, perhaps, I should have seen it... the contours of treachery, defined in a heart that has betrayed many times before."

    He flicked his braid. "Oh it's so cute," Aden crowed. "If only I was a few decades younger... but then again, you're nearly a millennium old... were you alive, of course." Another chuckle, and then Aden's already-pale skin drove a few shades closer to Nagai albino. "Something has..." He swallowed, pained, and clutched his chest.

    "... happened."

    A blaze of purple energy emerged from his heart, and Insipid screamed and ethereal howl before he vanished into a flare.

    There was nothing left, nothing at all.

    His embers flittered out of existence, and then, into that emptiness, floated a figure.

    [​IMG]

    So he finally died. Took a while.

    You've late too, but I cannot blame you entirely, can I?

    The room became his quiet dorm in the Jedi Temple, before he fell. Before he even saw the end of the Jedi-Sith War.

    So, you're here to pass through to the Truth. You've sold Daritha Charon your soul for a pittance.

    There is no Truth; only Treachery.

    There was a rap at the door; it would be his Master, undoubtedly.

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
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  18. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    A Forced retrospective

    Vyatoris glared at the mocking tone of the Emperor, his erratic heart rate slowing as he took the moment to seethe in burning indignation. The fury brought with it focus, and with focus, came peace.

    With shaking fists, Vyatoris exhaled, waiting a moment before responding to the Emperor's chuckle with one of his own, albeit steeped with ire. "I never was one for a.. stable career, my Lord." He grumbled humorlessly, crossing his arms across his chest. "Look.. Can we just.. keep moving, please?" Vyatoris turned away from Insipid, taking in his surroundings, or lack thereof. "We can talk about.. this.. at a later time, alright? J-just.. not now.."

    A sudden ethereal howl derailed his train of thought, sending Vyatoris reeling backwards as he covered his ears in pain. A moment later, nothing. Silence. Wearily, Vyatoris rubbed at his temples, a futile gesture to ease the growing headache pounding behind his vestigial eyes. "What is it, more vengeful spirits?" He turned, finding himself utterly alone in the void. "Emperor..?" He asked, tentatively prodding the air Insipid had occupied mere moments before with his fingers.

    "..Hello..?"

    Vyatoris looked around the room, finding no hints that it had ever been occupied other than himself. Even the Force, the way through which he viewed the world, offered nothing in the way of answers. Which didn't make any sense, because all living things gave off some sort of aura through the Force, a signature which clued him in on the owner's identity. Even those who chose to hide their aura still gave off something, although it was usually disguised through the general background noise of the galaxy. But now? There was nothing.


    Vyatoris brought a hand to his chin, thinking back on the journey so far. Insipid has said that he had let a body he had reanimated be consumed by the Anzati, but that he himself was still alive in the real world. So.. It would stand to reason that if he's dead in here.. Then it would have to mean the 'real' him met the same fate out there..

    Vyatoris' arms fell to his sides as the full weight of the realization struck home. "Insipid.. Dead?" He quietly asked to the empty room. "Is that even possible..?"

    Seemingly in answer, a figure apparated in the same spot as the late-Insipid.


    So he finally died. Took a while.

    You've late too, but I cannot blame you entirely, can I?
    It said, the words forming within Vyatoris' mind rather than being spoken aloud.

    The room became his quiet dorm in the Jedi Temple, before he fell. Before he even saw the end of the Jedi-Sith War.

    So, you're here to pass through to the Truth. You've sold Daritha Charon your soul for a pittance.

    There is no Truth; only Treachery.


    There was a rap at the door; it would be his Master, undoubtedly.

    Vyatoris jerked his head towards the door, a cold sweat appearing on his brow. "No.. No it can't be.." His said in a low whisper. He took a step forwards, hesitantly reaching a hand towards the door's handle. Silent tremors shook his hand as he grabbed hold of the door handle in an iron grip. He knew what would be on the other side of such a door, or rather whom. He had tried so hard to bury what had happened, what he had done, into the farthest recesses of his mind, and found little success.

    The person behind the door knocked again, sending fresh tremors throughout Vyatoris' younger body. You've run from this, from her, for too long.. It's time to face the consequences..

    With a heart threatening to leap out from the confines of his chest, Vyatoris unlocked the door, and threw it open, awaiting whatever came next in silent agony.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  19. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darkness
    Dorm room, a millennium ago, in another time, and another place, and also, not

    The spectre shimmered out of existence as Vyatoris threw open the door to his Padawan dorm.

    There she stood.

    Aseda Physsas.

    The Togruta woman was his first Master, a Jedi one, and he had slew her in a fit of rage... ignoring his own hand in his tragedy as a traitor again and again and again.

    He had struck her down.

    And left her rot.

    Which explained why she appeared as if she had empty eye-sockets, waxen-brown-malformed skin, and her robes were more moth-bitten and maggot-ridden than not.

    "My Padawan," she said, drawing her lightsaber. With absolute certainty, he would know what day it was today; that he had just decided to sneak into the library and access a forbidden Holocron. It was here, and now, that he would make the choice which completely changed his life, leaving him on the run, and, eventually, a Sith - and then, thereafter condemned to a millennium in a stasis trap that the Black-Coat had prepared for him.

    But right now, here was his former Master, and her blue blade ignited, a monstrous and long-dead corpse, resurrected to torture him.

    "You were foolish; the Council demeaned me, and made your failings my responsibility. Your abused my trust, when we were closer than many Jedi in the order."

    With painstaking sloth, she lifted her arm above her head for a killing blow; tears pooled at the bottom of her eye-sockets and dribbled down what little skin remained on her cheekbones.

    "How could you?"

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
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  20. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Darth Vyatoris
    An eternal nightmare

    The door opened, and after a thousand years, the Padawan was face to face with the Master. Vyatoris stood rooted to the ground, paralyzed as the shambling collection of bones and rot that was his old Master crept closer to him, her lightsaber raised overhead.

    Vyatoris' frame trembled like a leaf in the wind, as he realized where he was in his own life story. It was here, in this very room, he had thrown away any chance of remaining a Jedi. It was here he had forsaken himself to a millennium of torment in a Sith stasis-chamber.. And for what? His 'rebirth' into a Sith had brought him nothing but misery, and eventual death.

    All to relive this moment, this shatterpoint in the force. Before, he had struck first, consumed by the primal need to survive. But now, as Vyatoris watched his old Master raise her blade above her head in a killing blow, he remained motionless, unsure of himself.

    As he peered into the empty eye-sockets, tears of his own began to flow out from underneath the ribbon of cloth wrapped across his face. It's a corpse, a 'thing' designed to torment. Not Aseda.. Not her. Put it down.. and move on. Vyatoris tried to move his hands, tried to bring his own blade up to defend himself, but nothing happened. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore what, or who was in front of him.

    Even after all these countless years, the corpse before him was still unmistakably his Master. Even through the rot and decay, it was still her. Vyatoris offered her a pained smile, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "You're right.." He whispered, shaking his head. "I-I ruined everything.."

    A forced cackle rocked his frame as Vyatoris tore his gaze from the empty sockets of Aseda, gripping fistfuls of his own hair. "I.. I can't even give you an answer!" Another pained laugh erupted from his belly. "It was all for nothing! Nothing! I'm still dead, with nothing to show for it!"

    Vyatoris lept forward, grabbing Aseda's dominant hand by the wrist in a death grip, keeping the blade positioned over her head. He leaned in close, bringing his nose mere inches away from what remained of her own. "Spirits.. I want you to strike me down Master..! To finally grant you the justice you so desperately deserve..!" His said in a cracking voice. He grunted, as he found his hands slowly buckling under the strength of Aseda.


    "But.. That wouldn't be right.. Would it Master..?" He said, dropping his chin. "What happened here... What I did? There's no changing it. I relive it every night in my dreams.. Analyzing every step which brought us here, to this moment. But nothing changes, I always end up here. Sometimes, it takes a few more years. Other times.. It's sooner, and you're able to stop me.." Vyatoris exhaled, returning his gaze once more into the empty sockets of his Master.

    "Everything always leads us here, my love." Vyatoris whispers, a faint smile returning to his face. "I promised I would never allow myself to feel the pull of the Light again. After your death, that was all I could offer you in recompense.. I would never love, I would never feel joy.. No, those I would leave with you, my Master."

    Vyatoris suddenly pivoted on his heels and pushed his back into the chest of Aseda before yanking her lightsaber arm down over his shoulder in a single motion. Accompanied by a timely push of the Force, the maneuver resulted in Aseda flipping over his shoulder and being thrown against the interior wall of his dorm room.


    Vyatoris sneered, dropping into a low stance as his own lightsaber jumped into an open palm and ignited. "I will kill you once and for all, my old Master, and this time, you'll forever stay locked in my memories, never again to challenge me!"

    Tag: @Sinrebirth

     
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  21. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 9 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darkness
    Watching

    The Jedi Master flew into the floor and exploded into a mass of bones and flesh and decay. The body was old, dead, and dead, and old. Vyatoris had killed her once, and summoning that memory, passing through his tragedy, had simply reminded her essence of that fact.

    The room fell away, and instead he stood in a differing room, of shadows and sconces with torches on the walls of the former-Jedi Temple. He was older; his braid was missing, his darkness was suddenly evident as a heavy, heavy pressure upon his chest; only in the turn from the moment as a Padawan to this years later could he see the mass his soul had accrued in those years, unnoticed, as he raged across the galaxy.

    This room, the old halls which he had once stood as a Padawan - it was full of Sith in robes, armour, and battle-tight tunics. Among them were Sith exhorting others to reunify their numbers, turn on the Mandalorians flanking them, and rally at Coruscant. But one among their number was a taller, armoured man, and he was recognisable to Vyatoris as someone he had been acquainted with, but never spoke or knew.

    Darth Bane.

    [​IMG]

    He turned around during the talk, and his burning eyes found Vyatoris among the others, and he began to thread his way through the crowd of Sith, even putting his elbow through the throat of someone who was not paying enough attention to him as he advanced. In Bane's hand was already his lightsaber... but what Sith did not have his weapon to hand? A gathering of Sith was the most dangerous gathering in the galaxy, after all.

    No-one paid Bane any heed, and nobody shifted as if his stalking toward Vyatoris meant anything more than...

    ... the fact that this meeting had not played out like this, a millennium ago.

    TAG: @Silvertough
     
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