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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Sept 13, 2013 3:39:02 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Sept 13, 2013 3:39:02 GMT -5
The air around them swelled with the Force, clashing in a wall of sparks when the two warriors met their blades. Light against dark, experience against spontaneous youth. Nieraan was fast, strong performing risky blows accompanied by the rush of the raw power. Cassius felt his muscles wearing down, aged joints protesting with every rapid movement. Ataru demanded its user to be fit and if not age then years of steady abuse he had pushed his body through weighed heavily on the Coruscanti man. To his furor Cassius came to understanding there was no easy win for him in this saber duel. How terribly he had underestimated Nieraan – a mistake of a rookie and not a master. The folly of arrogance once more triumphed over common sense, facts. He had treated the Firrerreo like an unremarkable slum born child that somehow got a hold of the dark side without any discipline. Cassius had taken down plenty of those useless children of darkness.
But not Nieraan who channeled the dark energies with ease, guiding them with his own fury. Cassius' own cold anger was held at bay as he focused on precision of every action that stood in sharp contrast to ravaging, blunt dark side rush. The moment he dashed one of the blows that would end the duel, the Coruscanti aristocrat faced the painful fact of how much he had actually belittled Nieraan's power. Even before his feet touched the ground, Cassius could feel the Force rushing to the boy's call. The man's green eyes widened and nothing but a self-preservation instinct guided his arms to raise the protective bubble around him a mere heartbeat before the room exploded with tainted powers – soaked in rage, sadness and frustration. The shards of glass swirled as the Force hit them, sending flying across the room. Reinforced windows behind Cassius exploded as the scream carried its owner's will to destroy and ravage.
The barrier was saved Cassius from the devastating attack but weakened to let few large shards of glass to break through, cutting through the expensive silken shirt and vest. Gnawing at the exposed flesh, leaving long, crimson gash. The human let out a painful gasp, noting blood dripping on the floor. His own fury awoken at this – almost blinding. He called out to the Force: without holding back, unleashing everything he had.
”Enough!” Cassius roared, pulling himself up. The word amplified by the Force carried the order that aimed to break and subdue. Storm of electricity would ravage through Nieraan's brain, grasping it in a seizure. Increasing pressure to the point pain became unbearable – forcing blood to swell in eye sockets and under nose bridge. Breaking small vessels that surrounded delicate membranes. ”How dare you?” The human spat, wiping blood from his chest, looking down at the bloodied palm. ”You are nothing!” A wave of emerald light broke through the air, lashing at the young Firrerreo. Over and over, until every ounce of strength was sapped from the boy: leaving a helpless shell. Until Cassius felt the blind rage subsiding.
"Nothing!"
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Oct 6, 2013 23:47:57 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Oct 6, 2013 23:47:57 GMT -5
The old man got a Force-damned barrier up. He was lucky; the bubble sheltered him from the brunt of Nieraan’s wrath, diverting the scream’s power away into the rest of the room, tossing loose items and shattering the windows.
Yet even the barrier couldn’t spare him completely. Shards of glass, given a full head of steam by Nieraan’s power, pierced through, cutting through cloth and flesh. It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Cuts and scrapes weren’t going to satisfy his thirst, unless the cut was his sabers’ blades burning through Cassius’ throat.
That hadn’t happened, not yet. But Nieraan had forced Cassius on the defensive—had stunned the man back onto his heels with the sudden display of his might. If he could just keep up the pressure; just keeps Cassius from recovering, he would slay him.
He began to redouble his siphoning on the Force…
”Enough!” the old man cried.
The Force filled the room like a flood. Nieraan’s vision suddenly went dim, his body going numb as an attack overwhelmed him. Dimly, he was aware of his lightsabers falling to the ground, aware of the way his muscles went slack and he slumped over. He was aware that something very wrong was happening, but all of that seemed trivial compared to the pain, like a wild ape was clawing chunks of his mind away from him. It felt like fire, centered in his mind and spreading in waves out through the rest of his body.
Nieraan had a very, very high pain tolerance. Life, and Kamirille, demanded he did, or he would have simply broken long ago. But this made him scream, made him holler and writhe as he hadn’t since Kamirille last laid hands on him.
Slowly, the firestorm subsided, leaving him panting on the floor. He felt something warm and wet on his face, then realized dully that that warm and wet something was his own blood, from his nose. Though he felt lightheaded and slow, he knew enough to reach for his lightsabers; get them, force his way up to his feet and keep fighting…
As soon as a hand closed around a hilt, clutching the smooth metal as though it were hope itself, another attack slammed into him. This was lightning; that, Nieraan knew as soon as it hit him. Kamirille used the power often on him.
Still, familiarity with an attack did not make it any less painful, and Nieraan writhed, struggling merely to stay conscious as the onslaught ravaged his body. He did not care that he hadn’t felt the Dark Side’s touch on this man, nor that the lightning was green.
He just wanted it to stop.
It did, after a few moments that felt as though they’d stretched to eternity and beyond. Nieraan lay slumped against the wall, groaning weakly. His clothes and hair smoldered, and he trembled as he tried to push himself to sit up further.
“I’m nothing, huh?” he asked, voice shaking. His yellow eyes rose to face Cassius, and for all the sudden physical weakness, his eyes were filled with hate.
He snorted, spitting his nose’s blood at the old man. “You sure got worked up over nothing, old man. Besides…” Now Nieraan forced himself upright, using what strength he had left to muster a final pull on the Force. “You’re gonna learn to quit underestimating me.”
As the words left his mouth, red forks of energy jumped from his hand at Cassius. If they found their mark, they’d start to suck life itself away from him, using the energy to revitalize Nieraan.
It was a poor, desperate final act, but Nieraan Onin never went down easy.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Oct 8, 2013 9:43:08 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Oct 8, 2013 9:43:08 GMT -5
The Force rolled over the Firrerreo's mind, crashing every defense – pushing pain into every single receptor, setting them ablaze with roaring fire. Nieraan let out a primal howl, like a wounded animal. Falling onto the cold floor were shards of glass would cut and prickle – a sting of a mosquito in comparison of what the boy was now going through. Cassius could feel darkness now enclosing on him, tempting him to finish it – to break a blood vessel in Nieraan's brain to flood it completely and irreversibly. The boy was now helplessly panting on the floor, like a fish thrown onto the shore – fighting for every breath. The Liviana patriarch stopped himself, retreated. Death wasn't enough punishment for the golden skinned alien had dared to do.
Not anymore. Stilling his hand from further torture, refusing to let the darkness in, he instead lashed out the righteous anger at Nieraan leaving the boy groaning, with sickening smoke coming from where the lightening had struck. Inhaling deeply, Cassius calmed his rattled nerves. This boy...Only Danica so far was able to push him this far and not even her antics managed to stir this much fury. This much angry loathing. Convinced it was all over, Cassius dusted off his clothes though the gesture served more as a symbol than any practical action as the human's expensive suit was ruined: stained with blood, his and Nieraan's. Alcohol from broke bottled clung to it along with splinters, dust, pieces of windows. Normally neatly combed hair were now curled into thin, unruly locks.
”You don't know when to lose with dignity, fool.” Cassius snorted derisive at the sight of Nieraan pulling himself up once more. It was amazing, beyond impressive that the boy had enough strength left. Masters of the Force could take less and this rainbow haired whelp was pushing every possible physical limit. Just like Cassius himself often would until the point no one was sure if it was skill or a simple stubbornness fueled by rage. This discover only served to infuriate Cassius further.
His voice shook, body trembled but eyes burned with hatred. So bright and intensive the aged master hesitated for a heartbeat and cold pangs of fear licked the edge of his consciousness. This quiet warning maybe saved his life though Cassius would never admit this. The moment the boy made another boastful threat the tendrils of the dark energy rushed toward the grey master. They slithered through his skin, immediately stealing even the motivation to live. Cassius cursed a profanity no one suspected the highly esteemed CEO to even know. Fighting with the growing weakness the man called upon the Force to save him once more before he stumbled on his knees. If Nieraan wasn't so weak this might have ended much differently today and till the day he died Cassius would have to taste the fact a Firrerreo mewling whelp nearly killed him. That he almost lost to his daughters little boy toy.
A telekinetic wave came down on Nieraan pressing him against the wall, with enough force to push the air from the lungs. Tired and enraged like rarely before Cassius stepped toward Nieraan, deciding to end it like no gentleman would. He walked toward the Firrerreo youngster to grab a patch of dirty, two tone hair. Still feeling the Force roaring through his body, the grey master effortlessly bashed Nieraan's head against the floor couple of times. Counting the famous abilities his kind possessed would keep the boy alive. Cassius had no use for a dead Firrerreo. ”Any other funny ideas?” He hissed, watching fresh blood smearing on the expensive tiles – soaking into the nearest, soft rug. Every word accented with another blow.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Nov 13, 2013 23:02:23 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Nov 13, 2013 23:02:23 GMT -5
“Losing with dignity is what cowards call dying without a fight.”
Nieraan’s lips curled into a smile as his power made contact. The old man recoiled, obviously taken aback by Nieraan’s sudden display of another, hidden hand. Recoil made him hesitate, and hesitation allowed Nieraan time, more precious seconds to siphon energy away for his own use.
He didn’t need much. Cassius was old, while he, on the other hand, was still very young for his people. Just enough to tip the scales to his favor.
But it would take time. An improbable amount of time. Just a few moments m-
His senses had dulled so that he barely felt the attack before it came. Not that it would’ve mattered.
The Force screamed out of Cassius and slammed a pressurized wave into him with such strength that cracks spiderwebbed from the wall behind him. His breath left in a gasp of a cry of pain. The red tendrils vanished from between them as his power failed him.
The world went white.
Next he knew, he was on his the ground. He vaguely recognized a leg walking toward him. That was probably bad.
“Ahhh… owww…” he groaned weakly as Cassius grabbed him by his thick hair, lifting him slightly against his body’s protests. Then the punishment began. The old man slammed his head to the hard, uncaring floor, again and again.
Nieraan’s vision dulled. The room lost focus as he began to struggle to keep conscious. Some strange, distant part of his mind said he only had to fight back, only had to find a lightsaber to clutch at and light through Cassius’ belly.
But that idea seemed so hard at the moment. He couldn’t will himself to move, anyway.
Eventually, the pounding stopped, as the edges of his vision began to darken.
He felt something warm on his forehead, something wet spreading on the floor beneath his face. Blood….? My… blood?
”Any other funny ideas?”
That was right. Cassius was here. Danica’s father. They had been fighting.
Nieraan hated the man.
Funny ideas? The thought made him laugh—or try to, though it sounded more a poor, sickly wheezing than anything near resembling laughter. He coughed for real, tasting blood on his lips.
“I can think of a few…” he muttered, sounding groggy.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Nov 15, 2013 12:58:20 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Nov 15, 2013 12:58:20 GMT -5
The pathetic mewling much more suited the beaten boy than arrogant taunts. Cassius could feel the Firrerreo's life force fading in the Force. Its before brightly burning light now dimly flickering. It was over; the young male's existence hung on a thin thread, so easy to tear. One gesture, one stronger push and Danica would be alone again. Tempting vision, dictated by anger of an infuriated father who lost any means to control own child. Nieeran didn't even try to fight back, a nice change.
Only when two tone hair were soaked in blood and soft, gossamer rug swallowed plenty of oozing crimson did Cassius stop, lifting the Firrerreo's head. Even while barely clinging to life, Nieraan remained defiant. The aged master finally understood that in no way he would force the alien into admitting defeat. ”Think quickly.” The human hissed coldly, still tightly gripping a batch of Nieraan's hair that now turned evenly black when blood clung to them. ”You are quickly running out of time.” Cassius finished and reached to pick up the discarded sabers. They were heavy with thick aura of darkness; it made him sick.
”Listen to me carefully, child, because I won't repeat myself.” Oh how much he wanted to end him. The ultimate victory was so near – the grey master could taste it. Dark whispers mellifluously pulled at the strings of his soul until Cassius felt them melting with consciousness. The man's hand traveled to the looted saber and brought it where slender neckline morphed into collarbone. One, small flicker of wrist and it would be all over.
Do it/
Cassius blinked, shaking off the strange trance – like a snake waking up from hypnotic slumber. Even after all those years it was so easy to forget oneself in the sweet, mermaid song of the dark side. Instead, the human let Nieraan go but not without a hearty kick to the boy's kidneys and then spleen. ”Leave my daughter be, or I will find you and finish what we started here.” Cassius barked, accenting those words with another abusive kick.
No, killing him would only make Nieraan into a martyr in Danica's eyes. She should feel rejected and abandoned like such slum rat probably would sooner or later. Of course foolish girl never understood it was all for her own good – keeping away such harmful, alien criminals. A father's duty. ”Don't even dare sullying my bloodline, Firrerreo filth.” Cassius knelt once more, grabbing a large shard of glass, quickly driving it through Nieraan's shoulder. So the lesson would be remembered. ”Understood.” The human asked chillingly, making sure to grasp Nieraan's fading thoughts, engraving the message along with the physical pain. Like training a restless animal.
Inhaling deeply, fighting with own aching body, Cassius walked over to the trash compactor and opened it. Without any delay he unceremoniously threw out the twin sabers. They would fall deep into the city's underbelly where all garbage was gathered. If Nieraan wanted them back, he would have to sift through the vilest, decaying swill. ”Know your place.” The human just said, ignoring any snippy comments Nieraan felt need to throw at him. A meager attempt to protect fragile ego.
”Trash.” Cassius added in as an afterthought, when walking pass the lying boy. It angered him Nieraan refused to submit and gained this much advantage. It felt like a Pyrrhic victory, especially when his chest began to burn.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Dec 4, 2013 21:42:52 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Dec 4, 2013 21:42:52 GMT -5
Nieraan felt something move, or move him, rather. The room lurched sickeningly as something knotted in his hair and lifted his head from the sticky, warmly-wet floor. Some part of his mind told him that he was in great danger, that he needed to fight, to flee, to do anything to survive. Yet, he could not—couldn’t form the will to push back.
He could barely understand Cassius’ whispered words of warning through the dreadful, painful weariness that gripped him.
So easy to sleep… The thought drifted along the surface of his mind. From where, he didn’t know, but it seemed an agreeable, sensible thing. Just sleep until it stops hurting…
“No…” he muttered as Cassius picked up one of his own lightsabers and held it to his throat. The complaint wasn’t spoken to the old man, even as it seemed he was about to kill him. It was against the silent internal voice that wanted to claim him, wanted to drag him down under death’s quiet waters. “I won’t do that…”
A sudden kick split through the haze and brought him back to alertness, gasping pathetically for breath. A second blow struck and turned over, trying to roll away from the source of the pain. He curled up, trying to shy away by making himself small and turning in on himself.
”Leave my daughter be, or I will find you and finish what we started here.”
Cassius, Nieraan thought before another kick sent pain rippling through him. He yelped like a child, then groaned, contorting as he tried to make the pain stop.
Danica’s father. The summons to Hapes that he’d stupidly answered. Capture. A falling out. Pain. They all flashed through his mind as his senses came crawling back, but one detail stood as more immediately-alarming than all the rest.
He has my lightsabers.
No one took Nieraan Onin’s lightsabers.
The Firrerreo started to roll over, but something stopped him. The resistance held him in place, despite his protested struggling.
”Don't even dare sullying my bloodline, Firrerreo filth.”
A normal Nieraan might have shot a retort back. Wounded, half-dead Nieraan grunted, trying to process the statement. Something hit his shoulder, then pierced it, sinking into the thick muscle under the skin. It hurt.
Nieraan screamed a scream that turned to pained gasping as his vision darkened. Mercilessly, a foreign presence pushed into his mind, and pressed a will into it, hardening Cassius’ words into his memory, then left, leavning Nieraan gasping for air.
He turned onto his right shoulder, avoiding the left, where the glass had penetrated his shoulder. The first thing he saw was the two blades—his two blades—in Cassius’ hand.
The second thing was the old man throwing them down the trash chute.
“No,” he croaked watching them fall. Cassius’ words fell on deaf ears as the Firrerreo stared in shock at the closed chut, worry churning his stomach. The lightsabers couldn’t be lost. They were too important, represented too much for them to be lost.
A burst of will he didn’t know he possessed brought the Force back to Nieraan, and he gripped it the way a sailor thrown from a ship in a stormy sea might grip a lifeline. He brought strength to him, surging to his weary muscles through a hold that he used his own physical strength to maintain.’
He lurched to his feet, wobbling, and pulled the glass from his shoulder with a yell and spray of blood. Then he went to the chute, feeling a smoldering, furious rage grow deep in his stomach.
There was no telling how deep the chute fell, but it was the only way he could get his sabers—he felt them, or the crystals in them, far below.
He didn’t have time to consider; he would not be able to hold the Force for more than a scant few minutes. So, foregoing shame, he dove below.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
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Dec 14, 2013 9:07:12 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Dec 14, 2013 9:07:12 GMT -5
There. It was done. Cassius felt the last shreds of will leaving Nieraan as he faintly protested but made no move to act on it. Even if the boy wasn't yet completely broken, he did seem to be physically. To the grey master's endless surprise and dismay, it had taken too much his own power and time to achieve this result. Almost paying the highest price but at the end experience once more triumphed over reckless youth. Talented? Of course. Determined? Even more. Overconfidence, however was the worst kind of folly. The weak protest of the broken Firrerreo put a cruel smile on his lips as the sabers went down the chute with a hollow clank. The wicked symbolism of this gesture clear for both of them.
As he was leaving the husk he had left behind, a new spark in the Force caught Cassius' attention. The human blinked, surprised and turned. Apparently there was still some fight left in Nieraan but not in form of an attack. The aged master let out a short, mocking laugh when quickly realized what the stubborn boy was doing. ”Unbelievable.” A pang of worry had been quickly covered with cold bemusement. Quickly, the Coruscanti businessman took out a datapad with holo camera to capture this pathetic moment. ”Danica will love this.” He stated, deciding to let Nieraan to follow through with the shameful act, tearing away the last of his dignity. All while making sure Danica would see every details of it. Knowing his capricious daughter, the Firrerreo wouldn't stay in her good graces after that.
”Good luck on the way down.” Cassius sighed before exiting the room, going to one he had booked just in case Nieraan proved to be feisty. The genteel middle aged gentleman that had waited inside was now gone, replaced by the warrior with blood stains on ruined, exquisite clothes. The pair of guests that strolled the hallways gasped fearfully but the man didn't care, trying to fight the pain building in his chest from the burning wound. He lazily tapped the earpiece. ”Broca, I am done here, prepare the shuttle and make sure they know to send the bill on my Darek account.” Cassius ordered calmly, knowing his identity was safe here, at least for now. ”And warn them they have a pesky , half dead rodent down in the trash compactor.” The man added with slight amusement.
”I am done here.”
xxxxxxxx
((Abrakadabra charrie switch!))
In normal circumstances Danica would never believe she could get from Korriban to Hapes in two days but she had moved heave and earth to hire the fastest ship. It was late evening when the beeping sound of message had woken her up from the tipsy nap after another business meeting. The name of the sender didn't tell her much until she opened the attached file. Only then realized the text underneath was in High Galactic. In flagrante delicto. Red handed. The next couple of hours were a blur until she stepped into the hospital were the unknown Firrerreo was brought. Gravely wounded, barely alive. Danica had recognized the style of the hotel room, the panoramic view outside the window. Hapes. Cassius finally tracked down Nieraan and acted like a controlling, horrible, vindictive person he was. Couldn't reach his daughter so had taken away the one thing she cared for.
This time Danica didn't run though, didn't cower not left Nieraan alone. They had been through too much together. The woman couldn't deny anymore what she felt toward the Firrerreo, how much devastation this had brought and how much relief that he was alive. Barely. Directly from the docks, Danica went to the hospital, bursting in and demanding to see her lover. The guards looked at this helplessly, not sure how to escort out the raging woman with the accompanied bodyguards of her own. Thankfully law enforcement intervention wasn't necessary when Danica calmed down a bit, promising to pay all the bills for Nieraan. With heart racing like a caged rabbit, the woman dashed toward the elevator and toward the proper room.
Not only behavior but even clothes didn't seem to resemble typical Danica classy garment. Casual garment, barely any make up to hide puffed eyes, hair let loose almost to waist. It was obvious she was crying most of the way to Hapes, trying to poorly cover it with dark eyeliner. Flushed cheeks were constantly glowing crimson blush from anxiety. Fear, longing, sadness, grief. It all clearly painted in the woman's messy demeanour.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Dec 16, 2013 17:34:00 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Dec 16, 2013 17:34:00 GMT -5
“ You’re back already? I hadn’t expected you to come out of the cave so soon.” Ared sat under a tree about seven yards away from the cave’s open mouth, datapad in hand and posture relaxed the way he liked to do when reading. “It’s hardly been half an hour.” His smile was small, but genuine warmth spread to his gentle eyes and bushy, untamed eyebrows.
Nieraan grinned like a self-satisfied cat as he came out of the temple, moving with all the swagger his four-days-past-fifteen year-old body could muster. “I did,” he declared, pride shining in the voice. He kept his hands behind his back, keeping his prize from his father’s view until he reached him. “You were right—I knew it as soon as I saw it.”
He was a lanky lad, looking somewhat stretched along his skeleton after a growth spurt had spread out the lean body mass that was slowly continuing to develop, from training and a generally-active lifestyle. His eyes were bright, vivid green in sharp contrast to the deep black and dark blues of his hair, which was tied into a tail with some thin leather cord. Only a few unruly bangs had wrangled themselves free so far.
“Well, come on, out with it,” said Ared, switching his datapad off as he rose to meet his approaching son. “Won’t do any good hidden back there in your hands.”
Nieraan laughed, but waited until he closed on his father, grinning like a fool all the while. “Well, if you insist,” he said, pulling his hand from behind him. His fist was still closed, in an obvious attempt to drag things out a few moments longer.
Coyness could only contain his pride for so long, however. He lifted his hand and unfurled his fingers, revealing the crystal he’d found in the cave on his palm. It was a deep gold, like the morning sun. It was smooth and clear of defects, save the gentle breakage along the bottom from when he removed it.
Nieraan could feel something deep inside it. Pulsing, resonating, like an echo of himself.
Ared smiled and clapped a broad hand to Nieraan’s shoulder. “That’s a good pick, lad. It suits you.
“Now, this is only the first step,” he went on, sounding ever the mentor. “The next will be much more involved, you see. You have to bind it to you, to who you are…”/- -\ His shoulder ached. The arm attached to it hung limply swaying with the motions of his body as he sifted desperately through the slush of filth and refuse. He came down hard from his fall, with most of his weight falling on his left shoulder. It wasn’t broken, and he didn’t think anything disconnected, but moving his arm hurt fiercely. At the moment, he wasn’t keen on tempting fate. With a singular focus he dug in the dank, dark trash compactor. Already he’d found one of his weapons. The blue one, which was now clipped to his belt. But his gold saber was still lost. He could feel it here, feel it calling out to him. Time was failing, his strength fading. He had to find the thing before the Force slipped away from his grasp. I have to find it, he thought, as his fingers brushed something slender and metallic. I can’t lose it…/- -\ “And that’s what happened,” Nieraan said. “It was all a pain in the ass, but I got it done.”
He was seated on a cushion in the small apartment his shared with his mother. His right arm was in in a sling, and he was bare to the waist as a medical droid behind him applied kolto salve to his bruises and a numbing agent to the aggravated area around a cracked rib.
Kamirille stood, leaning against the wall with her arms folded under her breasts as she listed to Nieraan’s report. She didn’t need to tell him how disappointing his performance against the Echani had been — her eyes conveyed that well enough as Nieraan told the story. “This is why I teach you hand-to-hand combat,” she said. Something her voice spoke of amusement, though her eyes were serious. “Next time you complain about it, I’m sure I can find another Echani to get the point across...”
“You do that well enough yourself,” he muttered. The Firrerreo was twenty-two now, in in the seventh year of captivity under his mother’s abrasive tutelage. His hair was shaggy and loose. The green in his eyes looked sickly now, as corruption slowly turned them yellow while Karmille forced him to submerge in the Dark Side.
The warmth and high spirits of his youth were gone. He was cold now. Biting. Crass. Acidic.
“Still, you did succeed, if barely,” Kamrille continued, choosing to ignore Nieraan’s petulance. “And I’d have to find something worse for you had you passed this test with too much ease. Consider yourself lucky.” She reached for something in her pocket as Nieraan snorted.
“This, then, is your reward,” she went on as she pulled her hand up, holding a small, navy blue crystal. She smirked knowingly as her son’s face lit up. “I believe you finally have earned the right to carry a second blade. A real blade, not that silly training saber.”
She tossed it to him, and he caught it with his good arm. He looked at it, studying the light playing in its depths as he turned it over his fingers.
“I assume you know the process to prepare it, so I won’t bother patronizing you,” his mother said as she turned to leave. She grabbed a cloak and draped it ‘round her shoulders, preparing to leave on business. “You’re welcome.”/- -\ The beeping grew annoying after a while. Nieraan lay in his bed, sulking. He didn’t really remember how he wound up in the hospital — whether found by crews or if he’d stumbled in on his own power. But he was here, and alive, and his body, if not his spirits was faring much better than it had a few days ago. It would be some days before he could go at full steam again, but the accelerated healing that was his by bloodright meant he was in better shape already than most of the staff had expected. Well enough to be heading back to Korriban. He couldn’t yet. So he laid in his bed. Sulking. Plotting. Before long, he felt a familiar presence hurrying to his room. A flutter of surprise worked in his stomach. He hadn’t expected that she would be coming, but Danica’s presence was unmistakable. A few minutes later, she was there, standing in the doorway. Nieraan’s breath caught in his throat. Emotions warred at seeing her. He was embarrassed that she saw him this way — weak and bed-ridden. But his heart soared to know she cared enough to come for him. His brain battled with itself as his emotions tried to set himself in order, and he couldn’t think of what to say. “Danica… I…” he grunted softly as he pushed himself up in the bed. “You’re… you’re here.”
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
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Dec 21, 2013 12:40:52 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Dec 21, 2013 12:40:52 GMT -5
The feeling was surreal – it pulled at the strings of her very soul. It didn't really sink yet how close she was from losing him. Cassius had spared him, as taunt. As a statement, even the place where they found Nieraan spoke volumed. That was typical of her father, he had amazing talent in humiliating people around. In bringing them to their knees with offhanded statements and symbolic gestures. It was a lesson he tried to teach his daughter over and over. Them and us. Those below, aliens, laborers. Poverty stricken. Someone like Nieraan belonged to the lowest category of beings: an alien, poorly educated, raised on a street. And yet arrogant enough to reach beyond his status, feeling himself equal. A grave offense for someone like Cassius, a man of impeccably high standards. Now Nieraan was paying for this transgression, for the daughter's disobedience.
Danica stopped in her tracks, touching the frame of the doors, hesitant to take another step. The woman thought she was prepared, thought it wouldn't be so bad after few days and yet the sight of weak, wounded Nieraan shook her to the core. ”Why wouldn't I come?” The woman asked, biting back tears. Something in her broke, shattered when noticed how truly weak Nieraan was. ”That bastard.” She sniffled, placing hand on her cheek, trying to block the tears that were bound to show. Slowly, Danica walked toward the bed. ”Damnit Nieraan.” So many things she wanted to tell him. Yell for not contacting her, cry from guilt she didn't tell him about who her father really was. Biting down on all those emotions the woman remained silent, choking on own tears.
The words failed her but breaking the shock and embarrassment, she sat at the edge of the bed and gently touched Nieraan's cheek. Danica sensed his surprise, now even the Firrerreo didn't let himself to raise the wall of bloated arrogance he so often displayed. It struck her how her lover wasn't used to someone caring, not the first time either. A child of the street, very early Nieraan had to learn how cruel life was. They both had, just in a different way. It didn't ease the anger she felt at him though. ”Why in the nine hells haven't you called me!” Danica started suddenly. ”I thought you were...you were...” In a matter of heartbeat the fury turned into spasmodic hysteria and the woman melted into sobbing, teary mess. ”Do you have any idea what I've been through?I thought you were dead!” The human wiped away the wet trail, ruining those last bits of make up.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jan 4, 2014 15:23:42 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jan 4, 2014 15:23:42 GMT -5
Nieraan broke eye contact as Danica entered the room. Now, as if his last few days hadn’t been trouble enough, he had to face another issue. He hadn’t told her — or anyone — of his current condition. Hell, if getting away wouldn’t prove more trouble than it was worth, he would have broken free or otherwise slithered his way out of the hospital. But though he was strong enough to walk himself back to a ship, he wasn’t sure if he was in condition to face whatever difficulties might arise in the process without draining someone.
And that would create other headaches he really didn’t feel like dealing with. Not when he could just sit and sulk instead.
“Look,” he sighed, looking down. His hands were folded on his lap, and he picked idly at his patient wristband with his left index finger. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. I didn’t want you to know…”
The words faded to silence as he considered what he meant to say. The fact of the matter was that he hadn’t wanted Danica to see him like this. He was supposed to be active and strong. Not too limped up from a beating her own father administered to even care for himself. It may have been pride, but he didn’t like letting anyone see him like this.
“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, finally looking at her with his yellow eyes as she touched his cheek. She was obviously distraught; he didn’t need the Force to know that. He ached to see her so, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Comforting, making amends… these were not his strengths.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling like a child. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… But…”
Abruptly, his thoughts returned to Cassius. To that room in the skyscraper, to being suddenly captured and restrained. To everything.
Nieraan looked to his lightsabers. They were on a counter near his bed. The twins were in their holster, while the third from the fallen Jedi lay alone, shining metallically under the room’s soft white light.
His demeanor changed, contrition falling away as he fumed at that damned old man. “Your father, though…” He tensed as he sat up in the bed, eyes focused on something distant. “Danica, I am going to hurt him. I am going to kill that man. I want you to understand that.”
His tone didn’t leave much room for argument.
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
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Jan 9, 2014 5:47:08 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jan 9, 2014 5:47:08 GMT -5
The Firrerreo was always the strong one. Nieraan seemed to have never ending layers of arrogance, creating delusion he would survive anything. Now this illusion shattered, leaving him sick and her terrified. Finally Danica understood what it meant to be with a man who bartered his life with a devil. Yet the Sith was the first one to truly made the fiery, Coruscanti beauty to stay. Someone told her once she had a chameleon soul, no moral compass fixed on one direction, no solid personality. Just a hint od indecisiveness covered under always changing moods. Wide and wavering as the ocean. With a flame for every experience and obsession of freedom. And yet she stayed with him, with a Firrerreo born in the underworld though Danica lived in palaces.
Her hand traveled toward Nieraan's cheek to idly pull away a strand of two tone hair – as always unruly, a reminiscent of their owner temper. ”What has he done to you?” The woman bit down on her lower lip, trying to stop the constant stream of tears. They never really named what they had, never spoke out loud – cautious not to jinx it or maybe simply preferred to ignore the obvious. Even running here Danica wanted to kid herself into debilitating the feelings that wrecked her soul. The lie though dashed and shattered into million pieces the moment the girl's eyes saw the Firrerreo lying in the hospital bed. ”You are not alone anymore, Nieraan.” She wiped away tears, not sure if to feel relieved, angry, happy or sad. Emotions ran deep in Danica, deeper than in many other people – a curse and a blessing, though too often a hindrance. The newly discovered feelings for Nieraan both dazzled and dizzied her . Was this love? Was this how it felt? The constant worry for another person?
”I don't know what I would do without you.” Danica whispered placing a single finger on Nieraan's lips in attempt to gently hush him when the single word: but hung between them. He was alive, that what counted. Cassius spared his life, why? Nothing her demonic father did lacked purpose, certainly hadn't kept the Sith alive out of kindness. No, he wanted them to break up over it, for one of them walking away. It was a warning....Next time. Upon realization Danica's heart began to crumble into tiny pieces and every one of them caused new pain. ”He wants you to leave me, doesn't he?” She asked after a soft sob escaped her. ”He wants to prove no one will love me.” The woman barely realized those words were spoken out loud. It became a pattern now though – Cassius would push away everyone she ever held dear. Intimidate them, buy off if only to cruelly make a point. That sooner or later his daughter would crawl back, abandoned and broken.
The Sith, however, didn't seem incline to run away. On the contrary, the defiance that suddenly lit up in him seemed to rant enough strength for the Firrerreo to lift himself on the bedsheets. Danica's expression turned to frightful confusion at this confession. Kill..Cassius. Wasn't it what she wanted all along? To be free? A part of her abhorred the idea. ”No, Nieraan, no.” The woman frowned. ”Next time he will kill you. He is...” My father. Suddenly Danica felt caught in the middle, taking side of a man who humiliated Nieraan so much?
”He is a monster, Nieraan. Let it go.”
Who was she protecting now?
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jan 29, 2014 23:28:27 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jan 29, 2014 23:28:27 GMT -5
“Let it go?” Nieraan looked at Danica, disbelief spreading across his face. “Danica, I can’t… I won’t do that.” The turn of events obviously stressed her, and in his heart, Nieraan supposed he could blame her. A parent interfering in a love affair, well… I know the feeling. Too well. He frowned deeply, then sighed.
“Look at me,” he said, and gently lifted her eyes to his with a curled finger beneath her chin. “He isn’t going to let it go, Danica. He… very obviously doesn’t approve of me.” Nieraan let his hand fall away from Danica’s chin and shrugged, as if Cassius’ role in everything was negligible. “So the way I see it, if I let go, he gets what he wants, and that’s you without me.
“To bad for him, but that’s not happening.” Nieraan’s brow furrowed. There were things he wanted to tell her, things he wanted to let her know about his past and the things he’d been through. But no, he couldn’t. It was still too hard to share those memories, even with the one person in the entire Galaxy he felt safe with.
It was even still hard he’d allowed himself to grow attach, to risk the pain that might come…
“He’s going to keep fighting this,” Nieraan muttered, gaze fixated on something beyond the small room’s white walls. “He’s going to try to get me again, eventually, if I don’t stop him first.” Suddenly his focus sharpened to a razor’s edge, and he looked at her with a near-frightening intensity. “And you want to claim his empire. Do you believe he’ll just sit with his thumb up his ass and let it happen?”
Nieraan snorted. Roughly.
“You gotta step outta the cage and fight back sometime, Danica. Might as well take the chance.”
Suddenly he moved, throwing the bedsheets aside. He raised a trembling hand and called his lightsabers to his grasp again. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s leave. I’m tired of this bed.”
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Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
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Zloty.
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Jan 31, 2014 15:19:03 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Jan 31, 2014 15:19:03 GMT -5
For once Nieraan didn't react with stubborn anger but simple disbelief. She was ready to lash out on him, so they would engage in the same cycle of arguments. Her plan was quickly foiled with her lover suddenly becoming the more mature one. ”Nieraan.” Danica sighed, shaking her head before looking at him. Only then the woman fully realized how tired and pale Cassius had left him. Barely alive. He was right – it would never stop. Life without the Firrerreo was unfathomable, it would shatter whatever stable and sane she had left. ”He is old, maybe he will die...He almost did.” Danica tried once more but knew it to be hollow call. By now she could notice the subtle change that came between negotiable and non negotiable for Nieraan.
So it was time to choose. Danica didn't want to admit that deep under this resentment she wanted her father to appreciate her. Constantly trying to get his attention. He had chased off everyone – every man she even dared to treated more than a passing fling. Bought them off and in most cases they accepted the generous offer. Those that didn't had been scared, threatened or simply didn't want to deal with the unstable girl and all the family issues. Nieraan was different from the start – slow to warm up with thick walls built around. When she had broken through them, there was a clingy pup inside that couldn't be kicked away by Cassius. Bribed. Loving unconditionally and thoroughly. Something her parents never were able to give.
One day Danica would have to admit, Cassius never loved her nor wanted. She had been an embarrassing obstacle. No one will ever love you. He had mocked after another successful bribe just to make a point.Why would they? Danica closed her eyes, feeling tears swelling trapped under the eyelids. Nieraan did. A murderer, a fallen force user. Poorly educated who never knew finer things in life. Shaped by hardships of the underworld. And yet...The young woman rest her head on the Firrerreo chest, gently, not to disturb his injuries.
”I love you.” She muttered, quietly, barely audible – just above a whisper. Maybe he didn't even catch it, a mere mutter but it was something that never had been spoken between them. They both avoided it, afraid to state the obvious as if the illusion shattered. ”You are still weak.” Danica protested, this time more firmly, looking away; trying to forget what had been just said. Still, it was time to leave this cage.
The sabers were pulled by the Force – of course Nieraan wouldn't here any reason. As if he still had something to prove.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Feb 8, 2014 17:06:02 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Feb 8, 2014 17:06:02 GMT -5
It rankled somewhat to hear Danica voice a truth that Nieraan fought to keep from himself. He was still weak. The battle against her father took more out of him that he wanted to admit, and the accelerated healing of his bloodright was likely the only reason he felt anywhere close to ready to be up and out of bed.
“I’m fine,” he said, voice rough in a half growl, half mutter. He clutched his lightsabers, as if clinging to them could shield them both against any unseen threat. Nieraan lay for a few moments, yellow eyes dark and contemplative as he swore a silent oath of revenge against Cassius. Nieraan Onin, after all, would not suffer slights.
And, one way or another, Liviana’s slight would be repaid.
That’s a promise, he thought, concreting his will as he pressed the lightsabers firmly against the mattress and began to stand. He moved Danica out of the way as he clambered clumsily out of the bed. He did it gently, but firmly ignored her protestations against leaving.
The body took time to adjust to motion and strain so soon after the trauma he’d put it through, he discovered. He stumbled as he set his full weight on his legs for the first time in Force only knew so long, and only the combination of one hand grabbing at Danica’s shoulder and another holding the folding table next to his bed with a white-knuckled grip kept him from falling on his ass like a fool.
“Dammit,” he growled, skin silvering as frustration and embarrassment washed through him. I’m better than this.
Still, Nieraan struggled through preparations to leave. His body was still tired, his nerves still raw and frayed from Cassius’ assault. It would pass in time, but until then…
“At least they washed these,” he grumbled as he pulled his pants on. His hospital gown lay carelessly discarded in a corner. Shirt, jacket, and shoes came next, followed by his belt and lightsabers. Then, finally ready, he turned to the door, steeling himself more than he felt he should have to walk out of a hospital.
“Come on,” he said, walking to the door. “We’re outta here.”
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