Lord Balerion

Name: Balerion (Silas Isao)
Race: Firrerreo
Age: 90
Birth place: Coruscant


Allegiance:Sith
Status: Sith Sorcerer
Rank: Lord

Height: 6’1”
Weight: 168lb
Appearance:

There’s something about this man which makes even the most precautionary people stop, and look. Perhaps it is the same feeling a leper might get from someone who has the same disease as himself, or the lust a killer might get when placed next to a lonely youth. It is something of a dark pleasure, an insinuation which anyone might fall victim to. A dark smile adorns his face, with the shadows of a dark past painted under his eyes, and an electric vigour in the way which he steps. Perhaps there is a level of vanity which this man, if he can be called that, holds himself, but what more is expected from a man of his stature. One might venture to say he stretches the feeling of attraction he carries with by the fatal manipulation by which this man pulls a soul by strings of his own make, but that would be giving away the true depths of his control.

What is an appearance but an ever changing picture of a person, never to stop long enough for anyone to catch up. Still, Silas prides himself with at least the basics of cleanliness, and while he may not always be perfectly groomed, he does bathe daily. Perhaps not long, but about ear length slightly wavy hair is a dark brown, and perhaps black if brought into the right light. Dark eyes, which shine with a deadly hue of green which border on the edge of black encompass his pupils, threatening to become lost in them all together. So perhaps this man dances lightly on the edges of a man both insane in appearance and in mind, but does that mean he can not be a decent actor? No, some of the greatest actors in all the history of the world were the ones with the face of a demon to hide.

Perhaps a traditionalist in nature, but either way this man has a job to do, and that’s not appease to the every whimsical hope or dream of those above him. On that note he’s much more comfortable in a disguise of his Sith nature, for he was not only an Assassin in class among the Dark Jedi, but one in practice too. So subterfuge, blending in, and a general air of normality is something he’s very much accustomed to. Perhaps his appearance might give it away, but his garb will not, and anything a simple change of cloak can’t mask Force Illusion can.



Ships/Vehicles:



Equipment:

Two lightsabers, both with hilt design like these, but without the black blades

Link

Stats: (Feeble, Below Average, Average, Above Average, Superior, Legendary)

Strength - Average
Agility - Above Average
Intelligence -Superior
Charisma - Below Average

Force Stats:

Telekinetic- Expert
Telepathic- Master
Body- Apprentice
Sense- Adept
Protection- Apprentice
Healing:– Unskilled
Destruction– Expert


Combat Training:

Firearm - Adept

Force Training:

Torture by Chagrin - Expert
Crucitorn - Master

Other Training:

Piloting Spacecraft- Adept
Psychological Restructuring - Master
Aggressive Interrogations - Expert

Lightsaber Training:

Shii-Cho- Adept
Soresu-Novice
Ataru- Apprentice
Niman-Adept
>>Sub-form Jar-kai- Adept



Bio:

I intended to be remembered…but to what lengths I would go then I did not know. Now give the man, child, or woman you need killed and I’ll kill it. Its no longer about being remembered, it’s about power, and the craving which embodies me. Perhaps it won’t last forever, but for now I shall kill, and they will remember me for it, they will honour me for it.

Into the New.

When a child is born, no one sees the demon’s in their eyes, or envisions them to be a monster, but then there aren’t many children borne of two practitioners of the Dark side of the force. Whether conceived of anger, of passion, or some other form of arcane worship, this child’s parents committed an act of treason to their people, both in deed and in honour they betrayed their people. Though both knew they’d rather be killed than give their child a future which would lead him to their position, for while they craved the dark side they saw something more. Perhaps in the future this would be a curse, a damnable thing which the child forever cursed them for, but to them it was a blessing. So, in their own form of chivalry they gave their child to their sworn enemy, their counter opposites, and those which by right they hated; the Jedi. This strange couple left him with but one dynasty, his name, which he quickly hid in honour of his heritage, to Silas Isao. Perhaps someone knows of his real name, but if they do it be best not to inform Silas of this fact.

No one knew of the child on one side, and none knew of the parents on the other, so both parties remained blissfully unaware of the treachery now unfolding. Lead up by the Jedi principals this boy was told of the rewards in giving himself to the weak and needy. They preached of a life where the galaxy was perfect, and its people all succumbed to a greater power, but even from the beginning this child never hoped to be second best. It was under this philosophy which brought forth his aggressive behaviour, one which made him excel in the lightsaber while constricted to the light side of the force. They tried to teach him these powers, but he was not right for their gifts, he was incapable of following the light. Still a child not even given a master yet some contemplated his aggression, and there were those which would expel him from their temple forever.

Rather than forcing him to work in the mediocre jobs they let him stay in hopes that perhaps he’d prove to turn his volatile behaviour to the light, for he had potential. Perhaps if they had sent him to the agricorps, let him spend his life benefiting in other ways this child would have turned out different. Perhaps if they hadn’t bent to his desires, he would have been normal.

Classes, tutoring, the feeble training in the force it all began to flow together and a child who knew nothing of the galaxy yearned for it. Part of him wanted the power, part of him had a lust for a real lightsaber so he bided his time, waited to see if becoming a padawan might change his perspective on things. Thirteen was fast approaching fast, and if nothing else he would become too old for the life of a young Jedi. One of the most beneficial things for him was when the Jedi did decide he was enough to become his padawan. So under the teachings of a man who might not be considered old enough to hold a young one under his command took control of this unstable child, hoping to turn him into a man under the light. Fate unfortunately had different ideas, and this aspiration would be tested again and again.

At one time I knew this would all lead to my demise. It seemed like that’d be the only end in sight, but I didn’t want to believe it. Would you trust me if I said I was sorry for the things I did? No…you call me a liar? Smart of you, I wouldn’t trust someone like me either. Just remember that I don’t care, and that’s what separates me from you.

On the Verge.

Now his life changed, how much it changed was debatable, but there was something noticeably different. The man who had picked him was quite the opposite of Silas, but in a way they hit off rather well. It was an odd pairing to say the least, but the vivacious spirits of the Master masked the Palawan’s need for power quite well. It began with the first mission, a simple one to say the least, but it did lead to Silas realising things in the galaxy weren’t all fun and games. For the first time he began to think that maybe the doctrine of the Jedi was much more than just talk. Perhaps the cruelty of the world, the darkness which they spoke of really was there.

There had been many time where Silas had rode in, or even been the pilot of a space fighter, or sometimes even a small freighter, but it had always been from one temple to another, or to some world where they were confined. The first mission which he ever went to was on a world he had long forgotten the name of, but it was a planet stricken with poverty. Upon arrival they were looked up to, people begged in the streets, children ran around in clothes fit more for rats than humans, and there was a feeling of an unquenchable thirst for more here. Perhaps the most provocative things which the young boy saw was the picture of a slave being beaten by his master, and no one doing anything about it. Not even his master.

It might have been that their mission in turn had helped the planet out of its poverty, and orchestrated the turn of the ever failing economy which ensnared it, but that did not help the image of all those cold faces. Of the dark and menacing truths this boy was forced to accept in one short moment, for it is one thing to hear of slavery, and torture, but it is another thing entirely to witness it first hand. Then again, part of him knew this wasn’t the reason it really upset him. Deep down there was part of him which saw the power, the thrill in the slaver’s gait, and there was nothing by which this boy desired more than that feeling. It scared him, he had been told it was wrong, but it looked so perfect. A bond without fault or crevice, of course the slaved could rise against the slaver, yet that didn’t seem to matter. It couldn’t matter so long as the power was there.

Their mission went flawlessly, they transported three Republic Senators to a meeting with the local monarchy to annex the system into the Republic. No casualties happened, and the only small outbreak they were charged to quell was hardly a fight at all. What a pretensions start, perhaps the face of danger would have been more befitting. To stand hand to hand with a beast you don’t know if you can kill or be its next victim might suit him best. Of course, though, this situation did not rear its ugly head till later, and by then it was too late. The dye had been cast, the traps strung, and the pit which dug itself seemed endless.

It was a most odd mission, months after his first, and after many other going by with little incident it seemed the master had grown in faith with his pupil. So they went after Terentatek which were ravaging a small village on Kashyyyk, maybe sensing a force sensitive wookie there, or something. No matter the cause, or reason which these creatures came, Silas, his master, and three other Jedi went after the group of them. With lightsabers in hand the slew them all in the dead of night when they came upon the village. The Padawan had never been more scared for his own life, as they creatures who looked larger, more fierce in person descended upon him in all its might. At the same time a power in him grew, one which he didn’t understand. While he didn’t know it, his master did. His’ was the power of the dark side taking root inside of him.

The way back was a sombre trip, as the master considered his pupil’s fate, and the pupil knew nothing of what had transpired. For someone like Silas, the feeling had been one which had enlightened him, and filled him with an odd mixture of pride, inner security, something which he had wish for since the day he was born.

Bring me pleasure, bring me pain, I can’t live without both. Breathe life into the world around me, and know this isn’t one of my games. Soon we’ll be in my own hell forever, and you won‘t have a care in the world anymore. Its almost done, we’ll be able to rest. Don’t worry puppet…it’ll all be over soon.

A Lonely Betrayal.

How could all of it come to this so fast, a man, his friend distanced in the span of a second. For every moment which they were was another moment which led to horrid outcomes, and no one could dream it would last forever. Despite repute and disdain aimed towards him there was a part of him which knew what he must do. There were two roads before him, exile or the life of a deserter. For now he’d wait for exile, or the continuation of his training. For the moment he was put on suspension, and essentially grounded to the Jedi temple, where he would be closely monitored. Anger festered, it was only incubated in these session to the point wherein it threatened to blow.

Unfortunately the boy wasn’t able to hide these feelings, and there came a day when he was brought before the council. It was here they announced the beginning of the end…the moment when the final straw was broken, and his world came crashing to an end. He’d kill them all for the chance to see their faces drain under his grip, to see the loss of blood, and hear their dying breaths. As they told him they were going to strip him of the force, and send him to work on the agricorps all sanity broke loose. No longer could he control himself, no longer could they hold him back. With all the force of a padawan he attacked, but his rank was not enough to even begin to match one of them, and they were only solidified in their ideals. However there was but one master with the power to suppress the force, and he was in the outer rim territories on a most important mission. So, they let him rot with that accursed Ysalamiri in a room which hardly befitted the word, under a shield most powerful.

Most of the time once the Jedi have you, they don’t much like to let go of you, and there was no doubt in his mind his future was in their hands. It could not be avoided that he would think for a second of what might happen if he had been rational about the entire thing, but that was idle thought. Now there was but one idea which plagued his every whim and thought; escape. There was little chance, but if anyone knew this dungeon it was Silas, and if by the force alone he would find his way out of it.

Part of a plan presented itself to the young Firrerreo, but it was a once chance thing which if messed up there was no chance for a second run. However, there was a manner which he could take to get out that’d lead him to a rather interesting escape. Before the main event of this grand spectacle the Jedi masters had set up, they would have to transport him back to Coruscant, and that means a transport. While they’d be expecting something there is not doubt that’d be the weakest point in their surveillance over him, and that’s when he’d make his grand finale. It wouldn’t just be a show, no he’d make sure they saw their wrong doings, and they would remember him. Perhaps someday it would inspire someone else to try a similar tactic, and he’d be famous for it. Or he could fail, and his life would start all over again. Either way, this was a cross roads.

Darkness hummed in the air, it flooded his senses, and he thought everyone there could feel it like him. Maybe it wasn’t just felt by him, but it was him. A simple reflection of himself through the world, but either way he liked it, and it felt like a light into the future. Two Knights and a Master guarded him like hawks, none of them his former master whom he might have formed a emotional attachment with. All of them looked at him with a certain amount of pity in their eyes, he looked at them with a disdain; a hate.

It wasn’t warm, perhaps not cold, but there was a definite lack of heat as he was put on the transport, which he quickly noted had three escape pods, and too small to have an adequate holding cell. They still had him behind under the influence of that damned animal as well as being bound, but they had made one mistake already. A long time ago he had thought the Jedi never made mistakes, but they were only sentient and there was no perfect beings in this galaxy. With a heavy sigh they made pushed him along, doing their best not to anger him, even going so far to attempt an exchange of pleasantries with the young Padawan, but that didn’t last long. For the most part he was silent, trying to make them realise he wasn’t one of them anymore. They weren’t the guardians he had once thought, they weren’t the kings they believed themselves.

Sometimes the three strike policy didn’t work, and for in this case it was in his case which the mistake laid the line. After the initial take off there were problems with the containment of the Ysalamiri, and the creature became extremely ill in the first stages of the flight. In a few short hours of the travel, the animal was already dead, and they had no way to keep his powers at bay. Like something of a monster waiting on the verge of attack it whispered down his neck, and he could hear it hiss. Still, he bode his time as he waited the right moment when their guard was down, their backs were turned, and their sight was impaired. Each passing moment brought the guards closer and closer to the assumption that he had given up, that he had decided his life was over. They were so wrong it disgusted him.

One of them left, the master of all of them, to go check with the pilots about something, and of course he thought they’d be safe. Once he was gone it wasn’t too hard to find a moment when one of the other had the right position to force push them into the shielding mechanism, which not only knocked him out, but also let him free to the world. It was a rudimentary plan, and it could fail at any moment, but fate might just shine on him if he was quick enough on his feet. With the force he pulled the lightsaber of the fallen man to him, and the pair of Jedi fought meticulously through the for a few seconds before Silas realised this would not turn out to his favour. Therefore the only thing left to do was use the unorthodox. It didn’t take much to force the man to the wrong side, then it was as easy using the shield they had concocted against them.

Now there was only one person he had to deal with, and he had the advantage of surprise for the Master himself, which tipped the scales more than he’d like to consider. The only problem with that he probably already felt the disturbance, so the kid had to get out before something happened. Escape pods weren’t far, and he just had to avoid the Master, which wouldn’t be too hard. While he left the scene he realised there was a cut on his arm, and it hurt. For some reason the hurt was good, it reminded him he was still alive. Right as he entered the escape pod the Master caught up with him, but he was too late. It would be a long time before the scars from that encounter went away, but he did make it out. The force must have decided there was something needed in his future, for in all reality there should have been no way he had gotten away from them.

Do you know what its like? No, you’ve never faced death, and you’ve never heard her whispers. One time it was inviting, and I went to meet with her, but she didn’t want to take me. Instead we walked away as friends, and I’ve never been the same again. So don’t think this’ll last long, it’ll only take a minute.

The Girl Who Came to Stay.

It took a while before the escape pod was found, and the person who found it was indeed more luck than perhaps even the escape itself. Of all the people to find a young man spinning through space it was a most curious bounty hunter who looked as if there was something to him which was darker than the trade by which he lived. Some might call him a monster, a beast designed for an asylum more than a human society, but was that not what Silas himself had been called. Was it not a condemnation which had brought this young force user into the hands of the man. While the hunter killed for the reward, and the boy killed for vengeance, they both had a reason to kill which brought them together in an odd way.

It was under the supervision of this man wherein he picked up a lot on life, beyond just the simplest forms of what they had taught him in the real world. Jon was his name, Jon Sektir, and at first I had thought him to be a Vahla, but after more inquiry it seemed he was just a simple human, faring his way through this universe. Even though he was a member of this inferior species, somehow he got along just fine, and he taught the young Firrerreo about death, life, and how you bridge the gap between the two. While under his instruction the boy of almost twenty now met someone he wouldn’t soon forget; a woman.

Anne was her name, as sweet as the summer’s wind, and as dark as the winter’s sun. Such brilliance did she possess, her every being was perfect in every way, and brought sweet music to his ears. They met, they fell in love, and a pair so unlikely as them married under the lights of a Chandrilan monastery. Why the chose such a legal action was odd to both of them, but they needed something in their life that was more than money, drugs, and sex. Perhaps they were wrong, but the two were so in love that nothing mattered, their lives more intertwined than any story book character, or a the rhymes of a child. Their was passion in the way they kissed, the way they loved, and even in the way they killed. They shared a profession, a life, and she was the only person he felt he could relate to, the only sentient he had ever loved.

Jon was lost in their escapade, their own vendetta to become the most well known bounty hunters in the galaxy, their backs fully turned from the Republic’s hopes and desires. Together they ripped the world apart for years, becoming more and more talented, the Padawan’s past forgotten in the uproar. Of course, though, the force wasn’t finished with him yet, and it was about to rear its head once again.

Twenty-eight, still a small child in terms of being a Firrerreo, but getting to the prime of his life which would last him decades, he could not that his wife, however was getting older than he was faster. Their love was still true, but he feared they’d fall out of love as she got old, and stayed this way for so much longer than she. That didn’t matter, though, the universe recycled itself once more, and the team was destroyed forever. Their line of business was destroyed when the woman was killed by pirates, revenge on their vibroblades, and dark looks of hate in their eyes. Three weeks later they were all dead when Silas caught up to them, slaughtered more through then the nerf at the butcher’s chop. So once again his brain snapped, and this time there was no returning to sanity. There was but one idea in his mind; pain.

Pain for what he had lost, what they had taken from him, and now the loneliness which once again filled him. The Galaxy had forsaken his every whim and desire, so in return he’d make it burn, he’d pull apart every string until it fell apart. Once it started, once they heard his name, there would be no one who could take it from their mind.

I hate them, all of them. Let their souls rot in the pits of hell, and let the force consume their minds. Insanity, Jedi’s, even a galaxy could not stop me from wreaking my horrible vengeance, and they will not have another Anne. They had taken her away, their last hope, and now I would take away their’s. All of them.

Everything Burns.

Luckily there was something which intercepted on his madness, perhaps he would have died if they had not come upon him. There was a man, his face was filled with a darkness which might combat the Firrerreo’s own outlook. It wasn’t just a void, it wasn’t just darkness, it was an underlying tone of insanity which was fit to burst, but it was still contained unlike Silas’. It was a long while ago, when while on a particular trip to Coruscant he had engine troubles, and was forced to land on a particular moon that, while it was inhabited it was sparsely so. It was a split second decision, and lucky for him in the long run.

Once landed it was obvious the engines had taken a toll much worse than he had earlier anticipated, and there would have to be repairs, or an entire replacement. Unfortunately today wasn’t quite his day, for he didn’t expect to be making quite this big of a transaction, so it seemed like he’d be spending a few on this small planet. For a while it seemed like it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, then he came to meet yet another key figure in his life. This one unlike most of the others made an effect towards the demise of his moral grounds on purpose, not out of accidents, and the course of fate. No, for the first time someone had decided the potential by which Silas hid was something so great, he couldn’t help but unleash its full spectrum on the world. Silas wanted the power.

The quick conversation which they had was concise, poignant, and the man had an attitude which made it clear he would take nuts from no one. What was agreed on that day would fully change the course of both their lives, and only one would prosper from the change.

While training with both his lightsaber, and the force had been sparse recently it didn’t take long for the young boy to remember what he had been taught. And in the long run, it wasn't too much time before Padawan became one with the a rouge band of Dark Jedi, who had rallied under a banner of loose fittings. Their name was covered by the Jedi only a short time after he left, but it stood because of secrecy, because they did nothing. In the end, that was probably their demise. Yet he came as an acolyte under the man who had found him, Master Knidirianifilioustimarian. Together, in some form of companionship they become master, and apprentice, the latter slowly becoming less of the apprentice the more time went by. It wasn’t a slow process, it was something which happened so fast that perhaps neither of them really took the time to realise what was going on. It only took two years before the boy became a Dark Jedi Knight, and was able to rid himself of the former master, but the man persisted.

Unfortunately it seemed as if the master had decided that Silas was more than just a simple pupil, but a tool to use. A pure sample to corrupt, and mend to whatever he wanted, but that line of thought would have to be destroyed. This man was no longer needed, he wasn’t going to gain control over his pupil anymore, and he would kill him if necessary. At first there was a subtle inclination that he would not be his servant, but then things changed. It went from the need to control him, to the need to destroy what he had made, and everything started with that one choice. Two weeks after this began Silas killed the first man who had gotten in his way to being a master, and it was only a beginning. Once again that need to be remembered flowed through him, and the moral of this story is sincere enough; everything burns, everyone dies.

Carry me through these flames, child. I’ll let you see the reward in the end, and don’t worry I won’t kill you. Everything will work itself out if you just trust me…..trust me…trust me….

Till It Snaps.

Drugs, sex, booze, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, you name it, Silas at one time in his life has probably tried it. Most in the span of a few years between the time he was a Dark Jedi Knight, and the time when he became a Master. In all that reality it wasn’t that long, about ten years, but in that time he spent most of his time studying the world around him, gathering information, and experiences. It was all an experiment, the entirety of his life up to that point had been something of a drama, and he was done with it. Ready to jump head first into the realities of humanity he was shaped into the darkness of the galaxy, taken from bits and pieces to create something of a monster. For during this time he picked up his ‘hobby’. Some might consider it a game to him, a sort of device he uses to get his gains. Both are true, but for the most part it was for the fun, the thrill.

It had to do with telepathy, which he excelled at, using it he didn’t just use his influence over people to force people to do what he wanted, but he’d use the unorthodox. The stronger the will, the better it was, as he didn’t just break down their mind with torture, pain, and subtle influences, he made them want to do his will. People’s minds weren’t complicated, they were simple organisms, and when the right stressors were put in the right sequence of things, the creature would react in a certain way. Therefore all there was left to find out was who responded the best, and work his way through the line till they were more his servant then someone brainwashed. Yes, it took longer, but while someone would just slip out of conventional mind control, it would take years of psychological reformation to fix the damage which this young man did. It wasn’t just a science, it was an art.

At one time he always had one experiment, and one slave doomed to die when the next one was broken. It was slower that way, but it also gave a personal touch to each one, rather than mass producing his little play toys, which would make it not quite so sweet. Love had been replaced with a sense of godhood, to control the man like a puppeteer, to make him more his than Anne had ever been. It didn’t fill the hole in his heart, it only made it larger, but that the thing, now there was only darkness so he’d never have to see her face in his dreams again. Those strands of brown hair, all cascading down her back, it was so sweet. Once he had wanted to be a father, now he fathered many, and all of them perfect children. It was his own form of a family, in his own twisted way.

Finally when he escalated to the rank of master, he was able to focus less on ambition, and more on the experiments which he conducted. For now it was almost as if he was some scientist, not just a simple Dark Jedi, but something more. It gave him a purpose, and he thought that maybe this was where the Alchemists of old had began. Perhaps they had started out with these meagre things, and ended up with the Leviathans, and all their other dark creatures. Someday Silas would like to say he had made one of those creature, wrought their darkness into the world, and brought from it a dark reality into their world.

As soon as he moved up to master he took the first of his young apprentices, a young boy who had lost his last master. Silas had done experiments on people who were force sensitive before, but never one who was actually able to use the force in any tangible manner. This in itself was a perfect opportunity for the man to get his hands on one, and this boy was hardly anything more than bantha fodder anyway. A leftover lucky enough to get a second rate master who had let himself be killed. So, Silas did the only sensible thing, and fabricated the death of this new pupil, saying he died on a planet during what he would admit might have been an interesting mission. Instead the man set up a laboratory on a planet on the Mygeeto for two reasons. One, it was in the outer rim, but it was influential so it wouldn’t be odd for him to go there, and two he liked the cold. It made him feel more alive there.

This was the easiest solution, he’d be able to keep the whole thing a secret from prying eyes, and the man would be able to conduct his experiments more easily. Even though they were a group of dark siders, the Dark Jedi still had some problems with him mutilating people’s minds as he did. Personally it wasn’t much of a problem to him.

You will be mine, and I shall love you. You’ll be more mine than a child is to a parent, or a wife to a husband. Don’t worry it won’t hurt….except for right now. Right now it might hurt a lot.

Don‘t Look Back.

It was a long time coming, but by the time he’d become a master of the Dark Jedi he’d already reached what he could do there. The Dark Jedi were done to him, his mind had moved on, and he needed something else to occupy his time, to push him. Forward motion was something vital to the survival of this now elderly, by most standards, Firrerreo, so the state of being stagnant within the ranks of the Dark Jedi bothered him, and a spot opened itself to him. There were rumours, one that he couldn’t help but hear, and think of all the possibilities which presented themselves in one moment. It wasn’t that long before he moved on, to the Sith for if they were attempting to rise to their former glory they’d need some people that were more than just pawns in this game. They’d have to show themselves as a prominent figure in this gave of the universe, and if they couldn’t, they would probably be plucked out. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did, it really wouldn’t matter one bit to the Dark Jedi. Once again at the bottom of the totem pole, this killer didn’t care, he wasn’t about to take nuts from anyone unless absolutely necessary. Of course he’d play be the rules at first, but only to a point. It wouldn’t take long for him to progress.

It was long past the point of return, into a darkness more poignant than the sheen of oil on the surface of water, and more deadly than a sun. It would kill, but bring life at the same time, and the world would revolve around it. So came to life the man whom stand today, with a look of grim aspirations on his face, and a dark outlook to bring to this place. One could only hope no one got in his way, for it would be ugly.

We all saw it coming, didn’t we? How could someone like me fit in with someone like you? It’s over now, me and you, were done. I will come back to kill you, and your little friends, I’ll rip your heart just like you did mine. It’ll be fun, we can see how long you last without it, and then I’ll leave your bodies to the buzzards, ‘cause even beggars need food. I might come back, though. Just to see you with the eyes plucked from your skull.

Lightsaber: Two lightsabers, one with a Lorrdian and a Stygium crystal, the other with a Jenruax and an Adegan
Color:
Yellow, the colour of a healer perhaps? In the hands of a man of death it is a killer, a man might slay a thousand lives with such a tool and never stain the purity. One such lightsaber does this man hold within his grasp, a colour of the most defined innocence, how ironic. Even with the yellow of his first lightsaber the other is just as dark a red, not just a simple vibrant red, but one slightly maroon in general appearance. One might consider it odd to have such contrasting colours working together, but they work in harmony to kill his enemies, and that is all which he needs. Perfect for the killer, the slayer of those which would let themselves be killed.



RP Sample:

A knife. It was a simple enough tool, its uses boundless, and its helpfulness would break all boundaries in the moments to come. Coolly the killer hefted it, weighing it under his fingers as he looked at the target before him, trying to look collected, and look at the knife at the same time. There was a loud gulp of air a sly smile crossed the Sith’s mouth, it wasn’t an odd smile. Just the one he had whenever there was fun on the horizon, or if he could feel the fear in the air. Today it was a mix of both, and that was a cause for celebration, perhaps after this he’d kill someone, that could only make today better. First he had to work on this person, it would really only be the first step, a preliminary test if one might say so. Either way, the man would scream, and Silas loved to hear him scream.

Of course the look got worse as the scientist moved away from the counter, and he was obliged to tell them man, “Don’t worry puppet, this won’t last long.” Slowly he walked towards the man, cherishing the waves of fear with each step of his lightly padded feet.

Sterilisation hadn’t been hard for this person, they had been relatively clean compared to the other ones, but that didn’t matter, Silas had waited the same amount of time. To make a test reliable one must only change on variable at a time, that was a simple enough rule to follow. This man would be the lucky one who would two choices, and have to decide on which one. Both had been tested separately, and they were both gruesome fates, but there might be a more willingness to comply if they thought they were allowed an easier road. It might also bring them one step closer when they are forced to write their own death sentence. Hell would break loose for this man tonight, and the assassin would make sure of that.

“So, are you ready?” Asked the cold hearted man, a dark light to his eyes, “Oh wait…I forgot. You still have the gag in.”

Would the man really forget about the gag in the boy’s mouth? No, it was just more fun to play with them, to see how they responded. This one was fun because he liked to pretend he didn’t care at all, but it was all in his eyes, in the sweat that trickled down the brow of his head. Hidden under all that composure was someone ready to scream, to fall over in pain, but it was too bad they had only begun. Strapped like the slave he was to the platform, like a scaled down version of an operating table, it was not so nice on a person’s body. It wanted to make a person fall apart, designed in such a way that it was adjustable to make it ever so slightly longer than a human’s arm’s are supposed to sit, and the restraints a little too tight to make up the difference. Interestingly enough, that was only the beginnings of his trouble, soon enough he’d see that he was being treated easily right now. No one could comprehend what exactly was in store for this person.

Lightly the steel pressed to his forearm, and his eyes not opened a little wider as he sliced the almost dull piece of metal up his arms. Perfectly to miss the arteries, the major veins, and the tendons. It had taken a few tries to get that right, and occasionally he still messed up, which made things a little awkward, but his patient usually got over that. It wasn’t as if they got that much of a choice anyway.

-For the sake of my sanity, a few hours later-

With a sigh Silas pulled the gloves off his hand, and tossed them hastily into the trash bin on the way out of the room. As he left the man there, he hit the lights rendering the entire place dark except for the faintest glow of the refrigerator where he left some of the stuff in. It was actually quite convenient, that way they couldn’t really get comfortable, it was just dark enough that they couldn’t quite see everything, but just light enough to scare them if they caught the light off something. Occasionally he made sure they caught the light off something, but today he thought it would be fine just as it is, this man was going to be quick. Usually it was the ones who stayed stone cold who crashed right in the middle, and so he didn’t get to cherish the emotions at the end. Some died in the process, and then there were those who were just versatile, or dark enough to remain true to themselves to the very end. Those were the ones who he favoured, and sometimes had a hard time disposing of, it had just invigorated him too much to speak of.

“Tojo, go fetch me my formal attire, I feel I must go to Korriban,” Murmured the Initiate, knowing that he’d been away too long already, but not really caring at the moment, “Be quick about it.”

Quickly the man’s personal ‘assistant’ turned around to head out of the room, and go get what he had asked. Of course the man’s name had never really been Tojo, but the removal of their real name was one of the first steps to remove their old life from their new one. Whatever this man had been, it was no longer, therefore he could not have any attachments to it. Everything would be orchestrated in his life from this point on very delicately to make sure there were no complications, which there hardly ever were. All in all he’d say Tojo was a success, perfectly crafted from what he had been to make this servant of his. It was perfect.

While the puppet left to go get the things from his apartments on his laboratory, which had basically turned into his house, he began to take off the clothes he currently had on. Which, he must say does not look much like the typical doctor’s scrubs, but the get up would work quite well. It would change from patient to patient, but for the most part it was a your typical t-shirt, jacket, and pants with something over his face. Sometimes a mask, sometimes it was something else, but it did help with the doctor persona, now weather he could claim the rights as a doctor, that was a different story all together. Silas didn’t do safe practices, no he was much more of a scientist than a doctor.

Right now was cause for thinking, and a long trip through hyperspace would help that, even if the jump wouldn’t take that incredibly long. Korriban wasn’t too far away, but the time would pass even faster with the thoughts of his next victim in his head, and the current one too. Next he wanted to try a force resilient species, something that he would have to act as a normal human for, and hopefully that would work. To be honest, there wasn’t much to do with the force with it, other than some stimulants which caused the person to feel rewarded for what they did. Not much more, there were occasionally illusions thrown in, but those were easily taken out of the equation all together.

Along came Tojo, the proper Sith attire in his arms, and he handed them to his master as the latter quickly dressed himself into the change of clothes. It felt stiff, uncomfortable after wearing the finer clothes which the man had, but that didn’t matter right now. At the moment nothing about he Sith mattered except what was lying on that table in the next room, they didn’t know it yet, but that was the future. Think about an army of people who would never defy you, never disobey you, they’d kill themselves for you without hesitation. Oh, it could be perfect, and they’d all praise him for it. Did the old Sith even know how to do that? Had they discovered how to break a man’s spirit, perhaps even his soul with simply their minds? Silas didn’t think so, for he sometimes liked to think he wasn’t normal, maybe even special.

-Time skip to Korriban-

Once inside the temple it felt as if there was a power all around him, it emanated from the rocks, from the people, from the stone workings itself. Through the halls he walked, as the multitude of comrades passed him by, looking at him for a second before moving along. Some of them looked as if they might last a few weeks, but a lot didn’t look to have what it took to be a dark sider, and by now this assassin was quite aware of what it took. For years he had seen children grow up, and each of them were in someway similar, while each one was different at the same time. The ones that made it past anyway, the ones who didn’t just drop dead, or find their way into another man’s lightsaber. It really wasn’t that hard of a thing to find, it was probably easier than finding one’s good will.

Into the faux room he liked to call his own here, he looked around at the bareness of it, and slightly cringed, it would have to make do, though. Right now it’d be dangerous for him to bring his work here with him, that might make them think things he’d rather them not think. Mutiny wasn’t the name of the game, perhaps subterfuge, but he did not want to usurp anyone with an army.

“You’ve been gone for quite some time,” Came the voice whom he had felt from a mile away, but let follow him, “Where have you been, kid?”

With a smile he turned and responded, “Away from you, and isn’t that all that matters?”

There wasn’t love between them, but they might share a bed, and if they did that it would no doubt be over. Right now he just liked her company, for even insanity must find sanctity somewhere, and she almost catered to his needs. Almost, but not quite. Every time the pair together he couldn’t help but think of the one he’d lost so long ago, and realise how incomplete the two Sith’s relationship really was. It wasn’t really fun for him, just something to waste the time, eventually maybe he’d find something that would be more interesting.

“It depends…” Teased the woman with a light flick of her wrist for him to come closer, “On how much you missed me.”

“Not near enough,” Told the man as he embraced her into his arms, wrapping her into the warm folds of his matching garb, knowing this couldn’t last too long. He did have business to attend to.


Simple Note: So, I'm completely done, let the ripping up begin!