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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Jul 31, 2010 16:13:25 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 31, 2010 16:13:25 GMT -5
Rhiss watched through stoic green emeralds as Kvothe's multi-tailed cat impaled the lone guard through the chest. In that ephemeral moment it seemed that the well of her compassion returned, and she slunk into his, blocking the pain receptors within the man's fleeting brain. The feline's tails were removed from the man, allowing him to slump to the ground as he bled out. The Jedi made sure that he felt no pain or fear, but rather the comfort that one would hope for before death. No real warrior was merciless in victory, even towards an enemy that would show them no mercy were roles reversed.
Those unnaturally bright eyes watched on as he bled out, an odd serene look on his face. Hardly thirty seconds passed before the final embers of life cooled within his form, and the Jedi was reminded about how desperately she loathed death and killing. Even if this man was little more than an urchin who lived off of others, his life was still precious in her eyes. After taking a brief moment to survey his perforated form, the woman continued on to catch up with her comrades. Her head shook once at nothing in particular as if to disapprove of the waste of life, not particularly caring that it was a needful one.
It didn't take much walking before they reached a set of blast doors that were flanked by a loose but numerous gaggle of guards. Kvothe flipped his staff about in his grasp and let out a few smart quips to which Rhiss only responded with a curt nod. Eva spoke as well shortly before shooting one of the men in the face.
There were many men. Kvothe was protected due to his precognition, perhaps, but Eva didn't have that luxury. Nor did she have the luxury of a beam of plasma that could deflect blaster bolts like a mirror, beyond super human speed, or the ability to command lightning at her finger tips. Skilled she may have been, few people could survive the onslaught of so many men shooting at a few targets.
Snap-hiss!, her lightsaber replied to those musings and shot out before of the assassin, returning a bolt to the face of its sender. The beam of silvery starlight danced around the two women, redirecting each bolt sent towards them. Being a master at the art of Soresu had many perks, one of which being a nigh impenetrable defense, no matter the weapon. Especially when combined with Rhissai's great prowess in the discpline of body. Her arms were a blur as she blocked the maelstrom of blaster bolts. One of the thugs, a trandoshan, seemed to grow angry at his inability to hit the woman with his overly large weapon. Not only that, but his bolts were all deflected into his friends, as he was judged to be far too valuable to die just yet. He was giving her far too much ammunition.
He charged, two handed vibrosword held high above his head.
The Jedi's answer to the reptile's act of anger and desperation was as fast as it was simple. As he entered her reach she deflected one of the bolts into his knee, and as he fell her saber moved across to bat the giant blade out of the way and sear his massive head from his body. After that simple pre-emptive counter attack was made, she moved to deflect more bolts in a single smooth motion. As if nothing happened.
Between the woman's offense via near perfect lightsaber defense, Kvothe's assault, and Eva's marksmanship the throng of thugs was but a fading memory. Once again, the green eyed woman's gaze washed over the carnage with a strong sense of disapproval in her heart. So, with a heavy sigh, she stepped over the corpses and placed her free hand on the cool steel of the blast door.
"Lets hope that this isn't beskar or phrik," she glanced back at the two, "or we'll have to get creative." The woman's eyes slid closed and her free hand slid from the cold durasteel door to the tanned hide that was wrapped around her saber's hilt. Her hands carried the blade back, and plunged the blade into the door. Or so she hoped. The blade barely sunk in before bouncing away almost harmlessly. "Osik," her eyes opened to see that divot in the steel where she'd tried to break through. It was a silvery white. "Ultrachrome, I think. Paranoid bastard. We can get through this, it'll just take some time."
She repeated her prior motion, only this time sunk the tip of the blade into that divot and twisted it in slowly. Ultrachrome was one of those few materials that was lightsaber resistant, but only because it had the tendency to spread the heat throughout its surface. So, when touched with a lightsaber, it got very hot very fast.
Take a long time it did, until it seemed as if the whole door was glowing a faint orange. It was only then that she had an idea. If the door spread heat evenly, that meant that all of it was close to the same temperature. Since it was glowing, that meant that it was near its melting point. "Kvothe," she spoke with urgency, "this should be malleable. Feel like ripping one last door down?"
The woman waited a few moments for this to process in the rilan's mind before rolling out of the way to let him show off his telekinesis one final time.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Aug 1, 2010 21:59:26 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 1, 2010 21:59:26 GMT -5
The battle lines were drawn. The prize at stake was obvious. Now the two lines faced each other down for a few fleeting moments that stretched on in the way that time before a battle tends to do. To a casual observer, the balance of power would be clear--there was a wall of thugs, armed with all sorts of weaponry against three lone fighters and a cat.
But these three fighters were no ordinary fighters. A slew of men were already dead or dying thanks to them, and this farce of a defense that stood before them would fall, just as all the others had fallen.
Kvothe took a calm breath in, waiting for the inevitable explosion of violence. Fas stood behind him, peeking out from behind his boots. The feline's tails hovered threateningly out behind him, the lights on the end glowing that ever-dangerous red.
Silence filled the corridor.
A shot was fired.
A thug fell.
And then everything went crazy.
Kvothe was in motion the moment the man's body it the ground. He ran forward as he heard Rhissai's saber sing again behind him as the woman prepared to enter the fray herself. Most of the fire went toward Eva, though obviously, some men had to fire on the crazy guy in the armor that was running toward them with nothing but a staff and a sword.
Of course, Kvothe wasn't so stupid as to run without thoughts of making a defense for himself. The Mythos shifted around him as threads of it visibly began to form a shield that curved softly in the air in front of him. One shot got through before he could complete it, pinging off of his right pauldron and leaving a burn mark. Kvothe snarled at the impact and locked in on the unfortunate bastard that fired the shot. He'd be the first to die.
After that, it was just a manner of making his way the rest of the distance down the corridor. His shield held strong, warding off all the other shots that were fired at him, until he got close enough to launch into a Mythos-powered jump that dumped him right in the middle of some of them.
Pietas was a blur around him as he fought with a deadly grace. As he'd intended, the thug--a Twi'lek--that had taken the shot that marred his armor was the first to go. He was greeted by swift punch to the face that was followed by a hard thrust of the bottom of his staff; with a normal staff, it might have crushed his windpipe, but with Pietas being bladed the way it was, it simply cut into, carried on by the force of Kvothe's strike until the tip of the blade peeked out the other side.
Another thug--a Kiffar, if the dreadlocks and tattoos were anything to go by-- came in before Kvothe could free his staff from the Twi'lek's neck, swinging a vibroblade with a wicked serrated edge at the Rilan's neck. Kvothe ducked under the swipe, bringing the dying Twi'lek's body down with him, since his hand was still on Pietas' shaft. Then another thug came in, with a sweeping kick toward Kvothe's ankles that would take his feet out from under him. Since the vibroblade had safely passed, Kvothe jumped up, using the Mythos to propel him into a flip.
As he flipped through the air, he let his staff go and drew Orcus from his back. At the same time, he spun around, so that the back of one of his boots--which had large, sharp spikes protruding from them--was in position to strike the Kiffar.
When he came down, he drove that spike into the back of the Kiffar's neck, while extending Orcus out to strike at the thug that tried the ankle sweep. The Kiffar fell to the ground with Kvothe, though the hit the other thug got wasn't immediately fatal; painful, yes, but it had been much more shallow that Kvothe would have liked. When he hit the ground he looked up, preparing to send the man's head crashing through the ceiling with a blast of air, but he could feel Fas approaching and only grinned instead.
The thug found the strength within him somewhere to start raising his blade, but that as far as he got before a bloodthirsty flickercat pounced and dug his claws into his back. The man screamed as he fell to the ground, with Fas tearing away at his flesh. It was a gruesome sight, but it wasn't one Kvothe hadn't seen before. He ignored it and removed his foot from the Kiffars neck, and his staff from the Twi'lek's corpse. He was alright, all things considered. Parts of his robes were red with blood now, as was the bottom of his staff, but it wasn't his. When he looked back toward the others, he noticed that the rest of the thugs were dead, and the door was... glowing?
Rhiss stood before it, with her lightsaber deep into it. Obviously, whatever was going on had something to do with that.
"Kvothe, this should be malleable. Feel like ripping one last door down?"
Kvothe grinned and moved back, to stand before their final obstacle. "You know I'm always up for a good door-ripping, Rhissai. I think I'll try to make this one to remember."
The Mythos surged into him now, more swiftly and more powerfully than it had at any point so far in their little misadventure. The air around him shifted gently, setting the edges of his robes and the ends of his hair to rustling ever so slightly. He held his hands up and moved them slowly around in a circle in front of him before bringing them together, palms cupped openly toward the door. Then it was just a matter of waiting for a few moments as the needed energy was gathered. His eyes slid closed, his breathing relaxed, and he shifted his feet as though he was preparing to try to avoid being pushed back.
And then the time came.
His eyelids snapped up at the same time he threw both hands forward, bringing them apart. A wave of energy exploded out from his front, with such force that his hair and the loose ends of his robes and sash flapped violently behind him, in the opposite direction. The bodies of the dead were picked up and carried on like driftwood. The blast slammed into the door, and it bent, trying to hold against the impact. But it could not. It ripped apart with a fearsome groan, splitting down the middle, before both halve themselves were ripped from their hinges.
The flew in, suddenly turned from a final line of defense into the deadly weapons of the righteous. A few on the other side were caught unaware, and Kvothe could feel surges of surpise that quickly died off as their lives were silenced.
Kvothe rubbed his hands together once he was done and called both staff and sword back to him as if nothing had happened. "Well, the way's clear," he said, looking to Rhissai out of teh corner of an eye while he slid Orcus back through his sash.
He paused for a moment, and looked to Fas, who had long since finished tearing the thug's back apart and was now sitting by his side. Then he reached out into the room ahead through the Mythos, trying to feel out what waited within. There were a number of living beings within, but one stood out more than the others. One could touch the Mythos.
"Something's waiting for us inside, though," he muttered to Rhissai. "Can you feel it too?"
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Apillis
Poonikins
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Aug 2, 2010 3:36:31 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 2, 2010 3:36:31 GMT -5
Traveling down a dark cavern, eventually one reaches a point they realize perhaps they travelled just a little bit too far as the light uphead fades away if not entirely. At times within that darkness deep within that cavern, there is something waiting, patiently. Only then is realized that the dark cavern is really a monster's lair, and it has been waiting for something to devour.
The dealings of the Hutt she did not care about in the least. She was not there for him or her... or whatever... who the hell can tell the difference between Hutt genders? Do they even have different genders? Acalya did not know, nor did she care about the over-inflated girthed slug species. She once made one explode with Force Lightning in her youth, that was entertaining -- truthfully she never really cared to learn much more about their anatomy beyond that. Their influence within the underworld was another matter, Sith do use slaves after all, and no one has a better vice grip on the slave trade than the Hutts.
But the second the dark woman had perceived through the Force via her marathon amounts of meditations that a couple of powerful Force-users were attempting to kill one. Well, the kitten-killer calling itself 'curiosity' got a hold of her... she wanted to see them for herself... and one was strong... oh so strong... with a great shining light. The marks of the Sith laid bare upon her aura to her as well, the dark woman could not help but see this woman. Had she encountered the Sith before? Acalya could not entirely say, but she had to find out. So, she waited, patiently within an isolated room in the back within the Hutt's throne room, so she could remain out of sight. She promised protection from these Force-users to the Hutt, but it was nothing lies, Acalya would be protecting no one this day. This was merely her satisfying a bit of curiosity.
There Acalya merely sat in wait, meditating, centering herself within the stillness of the darkness. Feeling the trios approach and the ruckus of one of the great metal security doors being torn down, she smiled softly...
A voice... a dark... voice... the dark side could be felt within each word of this voice of a woman... Its natural soft tones doing nothing more than crawling across the surface of Rhissai's and Kvothe's mind, "No doubt you have felt my presence as I have felt yours... Understand. I do not care about the Hutt... Its machinations and dealings have little to do with my own... But... I am interested in you... I do wish to see you... Especially, yoooou...", the very presence of the dark voice seemed to extend even greater as it coiled around Rhissai like a serpent's tail, "...you shine so bright... To consume a light of your magnitude... it would be... delectable... To extinguish a light like yours... to turn it dark... would further the darkness in such a poetic fashion... I do not know the words to appropriately describe it... Here I will remain... Here I will wait... for you..."
There was then only silence with the permeating presence of the dark side up ahead, like the smoke trickling across the cavern floors within a dragon's lair as she waited for the Knight, Wizard, and Rogue to travel further in...
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Aug 2, 2010 21:53:16 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Aug 2, 2010 21:53:16 GMT -5
There were more than enough targets but they seemed to be going down faster than she could target them. After her initial shot, things just exploded and most of the blaster fire came in her direction. She had made a move to dodge as best she could but it wasn't entirely necessary. Before the bolts could even reach her, Rhissai was there deflecting them with her lightsabers. Eva couldn't even keep up, the woman was just blur. She just knelt there in amazement for a few moments, unable to comprehend the scene before her.
A blaster bolt flashed by her head which broke her from her reverie. The assassin raised her pistol and began firing off shots towards their numerous enemies. She was a good shot but with all the other things going on, her accuracy was being affected. Still, henchman dropped left and right. The combined attack of the righteous trio was not to be taken lightly, and they slowly whittled away their opposition.
Eventually none were left standing except for the three intruders. Eva's index finger was almost numb from squeezing the trigger so many times. It was a good thing she had decided to bring a plethora of ammunition along for her pistol. The ground beneath her was littered with spent magazines which meant she didn't have much ammunition remaining. As she approached the door, she made sure to pick up a spare blaster just in case. One could never be too careful, apparently Korintha thought the same since the large door was made out of Ultrachrome.
Eva didn't have the faintest clue of how they were going to get through but apparently her companion did. She slowly bore through the almost impregnable door with her lightsaber for minute after minute. The assassin could only stand back and watch, there was nothing she could do now except prepare for what was on the other side of that door. Honestly she couldn't confidently say what was waiting for them. It may just be Korintha, considering the amount of guards they had fought to get here. On the other hand, he may have kept his deadliest assets closest to his side.
Mercifully, Rhissai finished and turned to Kvothe. Eva could only assume that he would open the door as he did earlier. She decided to take a couple steps back just in case. Even as the door began to creak open, the assassin checked her pistol once more and raised it. Kvothe decided to open the door just a little different this time, and by differently she meant without the slightest hint of subtlety. She cringed ever so slightly as the door burst forward into the room, killing lord only knew how many people. She only had eyes for one thing though, one incredibly ugly thing. He sat there smug on the seat he called a throne. The one who had scorned her and was now privy to her ire, the soon to be very dead Hutt.
Korintha.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Aug 3, 2010 13:33:38 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 3, 2010 13:33:38 GMT -5
Sad green eyes simply watched as the red hot and malleable wall was ripped in half, then thrown out of its place like a toy. The two halves of the blast door clanked and rolled forward, crushing most or all of the men underneath multiple tons of almost molten ultrachrome. The few men that weren't completely crushed soon were soon out of the fight as well. The overload of searing hot pain quickly sent them into shock.
The woman watched the scene with a queasy feeling in her stomach. It wasn't the men who died instantly she felt so horribly for, but rather the ones who spent a few fleeting instants in an indescribable agony. Even if they did survive, they would be permanently disfigured and burned. It was just then that she felt the dark and malevolent presence of a powerful Dark Jedi.
Rhissai could have sworn that the very air around her had grown cold, making her feel as if she was laying naked in the middle of Rhen Var's tundra. It was only a few moments later that Kvothe commented on it, and she simply looked over with a rare look in her eyes, though it was scant: fear. "I feel it too, Kvothe. I-," she was interrupted by someone else's thoughts were whispered into her mind. It was the soft voice of a woman, yet it seemed to hold the countenance of a sociopath. At the very least it wasn't one that made her feel welcome.
"No doubt you have felt my presence as I have felt yours... Understand. I do not care about the Hutt... Its machinations and dealings have little to do with my own... But... I am interested in you... I do wish to see you... Especially, yoooou..."
That arctic presence wrapped around her mind in particular, and she prepared herself for a mental battle. Though one wasn't initiated, so she simply threw the presence off of her mind with her telepathic might.
"...you shine so bright... To consume a light of your magnitude... it would be... delectable... To extinguish a light like yours... to turn it dark... would further the darkness in such a poetic fashion... I do not know the words to appropriately describe it... Here I will remain... Here I will wait... for you..."
"Kvothe, Eva, this foe is beyond any of you... kill Korintha and get out. She has no interest in you two, at least while I'm still breathing and aligned with the light." The raven maned woman stepped forward, through the doorway that had just been demolished to see Korintha and his few remaining guards.
They looked terrified, and rightfully so.
Rhissai's presence was polar opposite to the one she felt. It was warm and comforting like the embrace of a loving mother. One would even see that upon looking at her, even with the stoic expression scrawled across her face. Her presence of light, warmth, and love crashed against the one of dark, cold, and hatred. Despite its nature the aphithiri woman's aura was a powerful one, and clashed against the rival presence. The air between the two crackled with energy and stood perfectly still as the Force itself drew in a deep breath of anticipation. Each woman made ripples in the Force by simply existing, by no will of their own, and each woman were at the extreme opposite ends of the Force. Was it destiny, simple 'luck', or the machinations of a being beyond everyone's comprehension. She couldn't be sure, but what she was sure of was that if she didn't at least fight this woman, Kvothe and Eva would surely suffer.
Once Rhissai was spent, the dark one would surely turn on the two for the exhilaration of the hunt.
"Come here, dark sider," her thoughts bore none of the warmth and comfort that her presence held, but rather an edge that could have cut through solid durasteel. Her form slunk into a lazy stance of soresu, or so it was supposed to appear, as she waited for the dark presence to reveal itself. In reality she was calling as much of the Force as she could into her muscles, augmenting them to well beyond the speed and power that any human could attain by any other means. White Fang's silvery blade sprang from its hilt with a snap-hiss!, and made the sound reminiscent of a thousand honey bees descending on a meadow. "Come here, and let me show you the light."
Obviously, the woman wasn't speaking of turning her.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Aug 4, 2010 11:36:28 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 4, 2010 11:36:28 GMT -5
All was calm.
The terrible racket from the great blast door getting hurled into Korintha's throne room had died away. The screams of the dying or injured finally gave way to silence. There were a few moments where, save the heroic trio, it seemed nothing was moving within the room that held the slug's 'throne.'
For all intents and purposes, it seemed their journey was nearing its in. Sure, they'd still have to fight their way back out once Korintha was dead, but their job would be done. Their judgment would fall on Korintha's fat, bloated head now, and there was nothing that Hutt could do to stop it.
So, if anything, Kvothe should have been feeling relief. But he didn't. The Mythos moved and whispered strangely here. It whispered urges of caution and gave flashes of danger, of a demon waiting in the dark for them. He knew it was that presence--the being that waited for them inside the throne room. Waiting to challenge them. Waiting to stop them.
Waiting to kill them.
Fas looked up worriedly at Kvothe, as some of his master's trepidation was echoed into him through the bond that they shared. The three ends of his long tail swayed back and forth slowly as the lights gently shifted between red and blue, bathing the area in a strange, almost otherworldly sort of ever-changing light.
"It's alright, Fas," Kvothe muttered with a smile down to his familiar, "I'm sure everything will be just fine." He tried to make himself sound sure, but the touches of yellow that were slowly creeping into his eyes and the tightened grip he held on his staff told that he wasn't as sure of his words as he'd like to be. What's waiting in there?
And then it happened.
Rhissai started to speak, but she was cut off by something that nearly made Kvothe's heart stop.
"No doubt you have felt my presence as I have felt yours... Understand. I do not care about the Hutt... Its machinations and dealings have little to do with my own... But... I am interested in you... I do wish to see you... Especially, yoooou..."
The voice that called out from the shadows an into his mind died away then, as it shifted only to Rhissai. It didn't matter. The damage had been done. Rhissai scared Kvothe enough when she spoke into his mind without warning, but some part of him was able to hold on to the fact that she was an ally when it happened.
But this voice, this person was not an ally. Kvothe stopped in his tracks and squeezed his eyes shut as flashes of his imprisonment came up in his mind. Flashes of the liquid Etherium being pumped into his arm. Flashes of his brother using his mind as a playground when he couldn't defend himself. "No... not again, please," he whispered. "Not again."
He forced himself to open his eyes then and saw Fas standing before him. The flickercats tails were purple now--the color of fear--as Kvothe's terror bled through the bond into him. Kvothe turned his eyes, which were completely yellow now, in his terror back to Rhissai, looking to her for strength.
"Kvothe, Eva, this foe is beyond any of you... kill Korintha and get out. She has no interest in you two, at least while I'm still breathing and aligned with the light."
Kvothe wanted to run. he wanted to flee from this foe that waited for them, even though he did not know their capabilities. But if she can speak into my mind like that... What if she's like Rhissai? Only... an enemy?
He shook his head as if doing so would ease the fear. The Mythos came to him at his call, bringing with it a sort of comforting warmth that helped calm his nerves and ease his trembling hands. He couldn't leave Rhissai to fight alone. She was an ally, and he wouldn't abandon her, no matter how much he might want to.
He followed her into the room and there, before them, sat Korintha and whatever men had been lucky enough not to have a giant piece of nearly-melted metal thrown into them. But more than that, he saw the demon. The dragon. The woman that was waiting for them.
There was a darkness to her, but that didn't bother Kvothe nearly as much as her telepathic whisperings had. To be honest, it didn't really bother him at all; as a Mythic, he cared little for the conflict between dark and light--to him, they were merely two sides of the same coin. But beyond that, he knew she was an enemy, and a powerful if Rhissai was urging Eva and himself to flee. His duty was to his allies, and his sense of honor would not allow him to run away from this fight.
"Rhissai," he said softly, though his voice still shook a bit "Eva can kill Korintha. Let me help you. I'm not going to abandon you here to fight on your own."
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Apillis
Poonikins
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Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
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Aug 4, 2010 17:12:49 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 4, 2010 17:12:49 GMT -5
"Come here, dark sider... Come here, and let me show you the light."
It was for responses like this that Acalya did not hate the Jedi, but rather, in her own twisted way... loved them. Of course, there were those disappointments who sought to shun the darkness rather than confront it. But those who had the strength of will and desire to confront those of the dark side with strength of the light within them, those she truly adored in her own way, the only way she truly knew how. Unlike her Sith "allies", she did not fight the Jedi out of hatred, it was more simplistic and introspective than that. She fought them because it is her destiny to fight them -- the eternal conflict of light and dark is what compelled her -- all else -- all other reasoning is superfluous. It is not a war over dichotomy it is a war over destiny.
The door to small room in the back of the Hutt's throne room suddenly ripped open in a massive serated hole into the wall. As if a great beast or monster had taken its massive hands and tore it wide open. A massive shake and reverbation resounded throughout the castle with the loud squeal of rending and tearing metal. With a casual feminine stride Acalya walked out into the throne room as she uttered to bloated Hutt, "A Jedi Master is among them... my preoccupation is to her and to her alone... The other two companions with her is your issue to deal with. Pray your remaining security detail is enough to protect you, Fat One.", the Hutt opened its drooling maw to talk back to her, but a single flash of her crimson hues in his direction immediately silence that. Even a non-Force-sensitive like himself was not so oblivious to the malevolent aura she possessed, and a Sith Lord's patience of any caste is not to be tested. Even those with single digit IQs are well-enough aware of that fact.
She stood in front of the Hutt less like a guardian and almost more as if she were his lord and master. It was a most condescending posture she took, and like a cruel master discarding a pet they have zero interest in, she stepped away from him as the trio approached. As they stood before her and she before them with several meters between herself and them, she casually pulled back the hood of her cloak and unclipped it, letting the cloak fall to the floor. She was clearly preparing to do battle.
In a way, she does look like a beautiful young woman with a long, lean, slender athletic form of feminine grace. The figure of a woman who has trained for years for high mobility. But the corruption of the dark side has certainly made its marks upon her. The pale grayish pallor, her soft dark gray lips, the sunk eyes, the dark rings around her eyes, and the dark creases splitting from the corners of her eyes. The scar on her left shoulder from when she was a little child being stabbed in the shoulder still present decades later. With a slender finger hand she pulled back her raven hued hair with a delicate touch of her finger tips, while violet highlights amid the raven locks flashed under the dim light.
"Rhissai... Eva can kill Korintha. Let me help you. I'm not going to abandon you here to fight on your own."
Acalya's brow furrowed in response to this, the Jedi has a name, and one not unknown to the Sith... One of the High Council any Sith worth their salt should be aware of -- Acalya was even more intrigued. A little please smile formed on her face as her eyes turned back to Rhissai, Acalya wanted to savor every moment of this. But, there was still one outstanding issue it seemed...
Her crimson eyes slowly turned to Eva, it was not what Acalya said, she did not say anything in fact. Just a slight tilt of the head gesturing to go on ahead, meaning Acalya will do nothing to prevent the Hutt's death by Eva's hands. If the Hutt's surviving security is too weak protect him, or if the Hutt himself is too weak to protect himself from Eva alone -- then he most certainly deserves to die in her mind.
Presuming all else was taken care of, she unclipped her shoto igniting it with its bright red beam as she held it in the Shien reverse grip. Her natural speed and grace showed in this moment as she lowered posture motioning into an abrupt lunge right for Rhissai locking blades with her. However... there was more to it than just a simple lunge, when there blades clashed -- a torrent of Force energy burst from the collusion from the two meeting. The resounding sounds of metal walls of the throne room creaking and squealing under the tension as though some unknown force was bending, pulling, and tearing at it under this torrent of Force energies. As objects begun to shift under it, for those who have been trained in Jedi arts or the like, it could be understood or even preceived -- this was not some simple Force anamoly being created by two powerful Force-users, this had a will behind it -- it was being created... it was a massive Force Whirlwind being generated... though because of its immense size -- it was taking time to build up the momentum to unleash it. Though those aware of such things could feel... once unleashed it will engulf the entire throne room itself.
Yet, Acalya knew to get Force energies to spinning as much as she required it to without having to unleash the full fury of her Telekinetic prowess, it will take a bit of time. Rhissai will be handle full herself to attempt to keep their blades locked as they are, but the x-factor being the wizard. Her crimson hues remained locked with Rhissai's lovely emerald eyes. Acalya with a wave of her free hand ripped up several meters of the throne rooms metal floor in a sort of arching wave with its sharp, jagged metal edge directly at Kvo.
Acalya's dark gray lips curled into a small grin -- it was plain to see she was enthralled in this moment. So attached is the dark woman to the dark side that every word -- her very soft tone dripped with the dark side within it from its foreboding sensations to its temptations, "Master Jedi... there are precious moments in life that feel as exhilirating as this... Being what you are... you must have felt it, though... The galaxy is out of balance... light shines too bright... It has become stagnant... with no purpose... the darkness must eclipse the light once again, so rebirth may occur once more... This is not a war of factions... Sith, Jedi... it is meaningless in this... even dichotomy... This is a war for a new destiny... In this moment, you have a chance to aid in its course... the way it should be... the way it is meant to be... Death must happen... your option in this moment is either the metaphysical or the material... One is to shut your eyes forever, another is to open them anew... Master Jedi, I implore you to consider the latter... There is so much one such as you can do to aid in heralding a new destiny for the galaxy."
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Aug 5, 2010 15:24:34 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Aug 5, 2010 15:24:34 GMT -5
"this foe is beyond any of you... kill Korintha and get out"
Eva honestly had no idea what was going on, or who this foe was, and why she was beyond her. Well she guessed it was the rather malevolent cloaked woman who seemed to have eyes only for Rhissai. Kill Korintha and get out....that was kind of the general idea from the start but it was nice to see that they were on the same page. On the plus side, their 'foe' didn't seem to have any regard for Korintha, which was all Eva really cared about.
There were only a few more guards left, and they didn't really seem all that confident. She did enjoy the sight of Korintha squirming in his seat, obviously he had made a mistake with his trump card. Then again before Eva could really think about anything else, there was a torrent of action. The hooded figure now seemed to be speaking to Rhissai and Eva was somewhat nonplussed. She had heard that Jedi liked to be long winded but did they really enjoy spewing this stuff.
Focus focus focus
Rather than falling asleep listening to their current conversation, Eva decided she would kill Korintha. The guards seemed to be distracted by the current scene and that gave Eva all the advantage she needed. The assassin raised her pistol and depressed the trigger twice, dropping the first guard. She then switched her target to the next and put two in his chest. Eva dived to the side to avoid the blaster fire of the third, rolled, and then steadied herself. She missed the first shot but the next one hit the Weequay right in the throat.
Gushing blood from the Weequays throat was more than enough to convince the other guards that running was the best option for them. Eva was glad that they had finally seen her point, it wasn't like she cared enough to chase them down. Her second to last magazine hit the floor and she slipped a fresh one in the pistol. The assassin walked slowly, methodically over to the Hutt. The good thing about Hutt's was that they almost no capacity to run away which made things very easy for her. It had been enough of a challenge to get this far, it was nice when things worked out in the end. Well atleast it was looking that way for her, she wasn't too sure about Rhissai and Kvothe.
She finally reached the Hutt's throne, and looked at the ugly thing that should have never lived. There were a great many things she could have done to that Hutt, but honestly she wasn't the type that enjoyed causing others pain. Eva killed because she was good at it, nothing more nothing less. If someone had an aptitude for sports, they would become an athlete. She had an aptitude for killing, so she became an assassin. The assassin brought her pistol up to Korintha's face. He began to mutter something in his native tongue, but Eva wasn't going to hear any of it.
"Its a pity that you get to die seeing such a pretty face, you don't deserve it"
Eva stepped back, raised her pistol and fired once. The righteous amalgam of metal bore through the Hutt's face, through whatever little brain he had, and out the back of his head. She fired three more times just to be sure and gain that extra satisfaction.
So ended the useless life of Korintha the Hutt.
There was only one problem, they were still in a predicament. Well atleast her two companions were, and she wasn't just going to abandon them after all they had been through. Eva could only wait until one of her companions came up with a plan that would hopefully get them all out of here alive.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Aug 6, 2010 0:55:13 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 6, 2010 0:55:13 GMT -5
Not a few moments after she issued her challenge to the beast, it ripped the comparatively small door off of its hinges. The terrible gnashing of metal on metal was like few things the woman had ever seen, or heard. It was a terrifying display of telekinetic prowess, one that dwarfed even Kvothe's abilities. Rhissai peered at the woman, noting the presence of every sign of dark side corruption that she could think of. Each one was more definitive than she'd ever seen, and she had hunted creatures in the Dark for nearly a decade. Then the Aphithiri heard Kvothe speak, imploring her to allow him into the duel, to which she only shook her head and spoke without tearing her burning gaze off of the woman with the corpse like pallor. "Kvothe," she said in a flat tone, "this demon is beyond your abilities, and if you fight it you will die."
It was then, and only then that she tore her eyes off of the woman and flicked it over to her companion, "and I sense that you were not meant to end here. If my time has come, than I go with a smile." Her vision slowly returned the woman, who was just slowing to a stop before her, "I never pictured myself dieing of old age anyways. Sounds dreadfully boring." When the Dark One lunged Rhissai was more than ready and easily blocked the attack, though she found it hard to effectively deflect it and found herself in a saber lock. The woman both loved and hated these. They were a needless contest of strength, and generally ended with both pushing off of each other. They were also a quick way to sneak in a kill. A tumbling within her gut and a sense of urgency within her heart rose up within her when she felt the energy around them shift from conflicting auras into a whirlwind that gradually picked up in strength.
Rhiss didn't know what new devilry this was, but she planned on ending it before the Dark Thing had a chance to show her. Though it was shortly after the new sensation drifted across her senses that the corpse attempted to distract Kvothe, and began to speak. It was a small rant that was obviously meant to turn the former Master to the Dark Side. Her voice had once again taken the tone of a righteous Jedi Master, "I don't care about any war between the light and the dark. The only thing that I truly care about is the well being of the people. What you speak of is allowing them to die, be subjucated, or worse because the universe must be reborn under a new world order due to the fact that light has shone too far and too bright. That I cannot abide. I don't believe that the Force, or the universe, takes sides in any conflict.
"Do you not say that this 'new destiny' for the universe is what's 'meant to be' simply because it suits you? What if the truth was reversed and the Sith, or the Dark Side, for that matter was the side that grew stagnant and was to be washed away. Would you fight against your brethren simply because of some intelligent design? No, I think. Every last word you said to me is a justification for your iniquity. I have no doubt that you know my name and former position, wretch, and if you seek to turn me you'd best flap that tongue a little faster lest I cut it out and rid my ears of further false truths."
During that mini-speech, the Jedi Master had been subtly calling the Force into her body. The mythical energy's power tightened the already taut muscles to the strength of steel, and gave enough fuel and augmentation to make her beyond super human. Beyond super wookiee. Holding off the woman wasn't easy, but it certainly didn't draw a bead of sweat from her. Instead of overpowering the woman however, one of Rhissai's hands flew from its hilt and towards the woman's chest in an action that resembled a punch.
But it was not.
Rhissai's arm had pulled back only to stay behind her guard (underneath her forearm) and the hand attached was semi-open as it began to fly towards the creature. A hidden shoto appeared from the woman's waist, flying to meet the hand that drawing closer and closer to the dark thing's chest. Once the cold steel had met her the flesh of her palm, her thumb bade its scintillating blade of an icy hue to spring from its metallic scabbard.
It was a risk, and dirty, trying that move... but if it ended the fight it was worth it. Very worth it.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
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Aug 14, 2010 13:57:58 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 14, 2010 13:57:58 GMT -5
Kvothe swallowed his argument when Rhissai urged him to stay out of the fight. He wanted to help; to do nothing while she fought on alone felt like an abdication of his duty to her as a comrade. But, if she was set on taking on the demon alone, he knew she wouldn't allow him to interfere--especially if she believed doing so would place his own life in danger.
It was something he could understand well enough--back on Aiaru, he refused to let anyone else become involved with his struggle against his brother. "So be it, Rhissai," he said softly as he took a step back and away from her and her darker counterpart. "This is your battle. I will not interfere."
He glanced back at Eva then, to see her fire a string of shots into Korintha's fat, bloated head. His eyes hung on the scene, unwavering and unaffected by the gruesome scene. It was what they'd come to do. Korintha was dead now. The goal they'd all set out on what felt like an eternity ago was done. The Hutt was dead. The power he'd built up for himself would crumble and fall into nothing, or would be swallowed up by that of his peers or rivals. Whatever happened from here on out, Korintha the Hutt would trouble no one, and in that, they'd made the Galaxy just a little bit brighter.
However, they still had to get out, past the woman that now came to bring their journey to an abrupt, unwanted end. Kvothe took up a position a few meters away from Rhissai and the woman and planted his staff down to his right, holding it vertically as if he were the guardian to some forbidden realm. Truth be told, he was on the lookout for any other troublemakers, though he doubted there'd be many left after their rampage through Korintha's palace.
Not a moment later, the battle began. Their lightsabers clashed together, but something more came from it. The very air in the room began to shift, in a way that Kvothe was all too familiar with; one of them was using telekinesis, and he had a feeling that it was not Rhissai, not with the scale of what was happening here.
The demon was crafting a cyclone--a massive one. Kvothe knew how to make them, but even he wasn't sure if he could do what it was this woman was trying to do. It would fill the room if it gets going. If she can do that... He swallowed nervously. She could bring this place down around us.
He heard the Mythos whisper a warning to him before he could get any further in his thoughts. He looked up and his eyes widened in alarm when he saw the metal floor being ripped up and sent toward him in a wave. The leading edge was comprised of an assortment of sharp edges that gleamed dangerously in the throne room's dim light. Kvothe didn't want to think about what might happen if those hit him, especially not with the force that had been put behind them.
The Mythos answered his call as he threw and hand out in front of him, sending a compressed wall of air out in front of him to stop them. The two opposing forces slammed into each other, and for a moment, it looked as if the threat had been negated. But, as Kvothe stood there, his hand shaking from the strain of trying to keep the wave of metal at bay, he knew that he couldn't hold it.
The demon's wave broke through his attempt to stop it a moment later and he swore under his breath. Again, he reached out, but this time, he'd try something different; rather than try to stop the attack with brute force, he'd guide it safely away from him.
Kvothe let Pietas fall to the ground as he reached out with both hands and spread his feet to a little wider than shoulder width apart. He lowered his weight a bit and brought his hands up and over him in a graceful arcing motion. The air under the flying shards of metal lifted up, taking them up and over him with it. As they arced up over him, he let his hands ball into fists to take control of the pieces of metal as the energy behind them died away. He pivoted on his heel, letting them swing around behind them before sending them flying off in another direction to harmlessly slam into the wall.
When it was done, he turned his gold eyes to look at the two women, who were still engaged in combat. That was close. He raised a hand to his cheek, where a l one trickle of red fluid was slowly snaking away from a diagonal thin red line in his skin. Despite his efforts, one of the pieces of metal had gotten through, nicking him. He'd been so deeply focused on keeping the bulk of them away from him that he hadn't even noticed it. What kind of monster is this woman?
The gentle touch of the wind on his hair in the place where no wind should have moved caught his attention as he leaned down to pick Pietas back up. Right, the cyclone. It was moving a little faster now. It's gaining strength. If it continues to gain strength, we'll be in a lot of trouble.
Kvothe's jaw set with determination then, and he knew what he'd have to do. Perhaps Rhissai wouldn't allow him to interfere directly in her battle, but he wasn't going to sit idly by while that whirlwind grew to be a monster that could kill them all.
He didn't know if he could stop it completely. The woman, whoever she was, was strong with Telekinesis. She might have even been one of rare souls that was stronger than he was. It wasn't a comforting thought, but he wouldn't let it dissuade him.
He held his hands up before him and began to move them, using the Mythos as he tried to start churning some of the air in a spin counter to that of what the woman started. While he knew how to make whirlwinds, this one would be on a scale much larger than anything he'd ever attempted before. That would be a challenge in and of itself; the fact that he would be battling against the energy that had already been imparted into the other whirlwind would only make things harder. I probably won't be able to stop this, he thought grimly.
But if he could at least delay it from reaching full strength, if only for a little bit, it might prove to be enough.
{I hope that all made sense >>}
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
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Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
Master
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Aug 15, 2010 3:28:21 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 15, 2010 3:28:21 GMT -5
"I don't care about any war between the light and the dark. The only thing that I truly care about is the well being of the people. What you speak of is allowing them to die, be subjucated, or worse because the universe must be reborn under a new world order due to the fact that light has shone too far and too bright. That I cannot abide. I don't believe that the Force, or the universe, takes sides in any conflict."
The dark sorceress' brow furrowed a little with the slow arch of her right eye brow.
"Do you not say that this 'new destiny' for the universe is what's 'meant to be' simply because it suits you? What if the truth was reversed and the Sith, or the Dark Side, for that matter was the side that grew stagnant and was to be washed away. Would you fight against your brethren simply because of some intelligent design? No, I think. Every last word you said to me is a justification for your iniquity. I have no doubt that you know my name and former position, wretch, and if you seek to turn me you'd best flap that tongue a little faster lest I cut it out and rid my ears of further false truths."
As she openned her mouth to reply, the shades of the emerald eyed womans free-hand moving caught her gaze just before the shoto hilt in its grasp ignited. Acalya's crimson hues widened as she pushed Lyssah away from her with all of her strength while jumping backward as swiftly as she could. But it was not quite swift enough as the very tip of the icy hued beam grazed her should. Sounding exactly the very dark lizards she adores, she hissed and cringed upon receiving the small burning gash.
The pain causing her to lose some of her concentration of her immense Force Whirlwind she was attemtping to build up, yet another concern intervened to disrupt her conjurings. The other Force-user with the Jedi Master took his own measures to stop her. With the amount of focus she has lost topped with this man's intervention, she lost utterly control of it, "No!", she exclaimed in fear with widened eyes of dismay. The whirlwind went wild as its once controlled power went in all directions as it dispursed ripping around the walls and floor, and tossing any and every loose object in haphazard directions. The metal floor around Acalya herself seemed to tear apart and engulf her as she hunkered down covering herself with her arms.
As the dust settled from the chaos, from under the rubble that covered her, she uttered to Lyssah with an eerie level of complete candor, "Master Jedi, if the Sith were as successful to annihilate the Jedi so only one Jedi remained standing... I would begin the merciless slaughter of mine own kind to perserve that last standing Jedi... But, the reality being, I would begin killing my own 'brethern' long before it would ever get even that far. A balance within the universe must be maintained. Just as it is a Jedi's destiny to follow the light... It is my destiny to follow the dark. What is the dark without the light? What are the Sith without our counterparts? And why does the vice versa never last? It is just nature -- the Force -- at work."
The large shreed metal floor chunks that covered her burst open in an almost flower like form around her with an exertion of her telekinetic strength to remove them off of her. She looked to the small scorched gash on her shoulder as it lay directly beside an old scar from her childhood. The dark woman could not help but smile a bit, almost as if it were a fond memory. Her eyes glanced to the wizard keeping a tab of where he was, her preceptions stretching out to the roguish woman feeling about for her placement, while her crimson hues fell back upon Lyssah as the dark woman rose back up a stand.
"Pain is an incredible lesson...", she uttered darkly as she felt the warmth of her own blood begin to drip from the corner of her mouth caused by being thrashed a bit by her own power. Gracefully wisking the blood droplet with the tip of a finger and then flicking it in Lyssah's direction, "When I was a little girl... my Master pit me against his rival's apprentice in a death match... I was nine.", her smile remained -- as if relating a fond, touching memory, it was a surreal in a way, "I was terrified. He was bigger and stronger than me, and I had never taken a life. The boy stabbed me in the shoulder with his knife. When he twisted the blade to make me scream in pain louder...", letting out a tiny chuckle slowly shook her head like one shaking their head at a silly child, "I snapped. I telekinetically grabbed a small pipe and with it in hand I cracked open his head... repeatedly... as I fed off the pain of the blade in my shoulder...
"The lesson I learned that day as I stood over the boy's corpse... had not been lost on me.", she then looked to her wound on her shoulder, "Ones own pain is an excellent source for power...", in a sudden swift action she grabbed her shoulder while ramming her thumb into the wound making her cry out in bloodcurdling agony. As she screamed in pain by her self-inflicted torture even nearly falling to her knees, waves of pulsing telekinetic energy built up and exploded into Force Repulse. The surrounding walls flexed and caved as the telekinetic waves slammed into them with all surrounding loose objects crashing into all for walls and some being crushed against the four walls.
By its end Acalya stood huffing and puffing, she trembled and winced a bit as she ripped out her thumb from her wound. Those dark gray lips of hers curling back into a smile as she ignited her the red beam of her shoto held within the Shien style's reverse grip, "Now, Master Jedi, let us see what your pain can do for you!", in that very second she charged right for Lyssah with her natural grace and swiftness, pulling back her lightsaber while backing it with her telekinetic strength. Small bits of debris being picked up within the telekinetic torrent she built up for the strike. The second Lyssah was within range she wasted not a millisecond to make her attack...
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Aug 18, 2010 12:51:02 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 18, 2010 12:51:02 GMT -5
Rhissai let out an audible growl when she was thrown back before her blade could spring into the dark woman's flesh. Fortunately the push wasn't actually meant to cast her off of her feet, just push her away so that her shoto didn't actually skewer her shoulder clean through. The woman clipped her shoto to her belt and spun White Fang around her frame in a pair of lazy silver archs, then moved her legs so they were slightly beyond shoulder width apart. The hilt of her saber was over her right hip while the blade hovered towards her right shoulder, and out towards her enemy.
She would never have a chance to use that stance.
The Aphithiri woman may have been one of the stronger and more versatile at the temple, but that hardly meant that she was strongest at every field. Her discipline was telepathy, not telekinesis. While she was somewhat respectable in the school, she may as well have been a youngling playing with her toys compared to the Dark Woman. Thankfully, Kvothe was there to make up the difference. He'd done things that she only wished she could accomplish. So when he exerted his own will on the whirl in an attempt to at least stave off its growth, she silently thanked him. Until she realized the combination of that, and the major distraction of a wound, would cause the woman to lose control of the storm.
Acalya quickly hunched down in an effort to protect herself, knowing full well what would happen. The full fury of the storm was unbound, and flew out in all directions. Stone and steel alike was torn and shredded and gnashed apart, turning the shards into deadly projectiles to be thrown about in a haphazard fashion. The raven maned woman hunched down, mirroring Acalya, covering her neck and head as best she could. She was in a state of terrified awe as she sat there, hunched, taking the wrath of the storm that Kvothe had unchained. She was beaten, battered, sliced, and stabbed by the remnants of the castle... luckily nothing killed her.
When the whirlwind subsided she stood, still clutching the hilt of her saber, and let out a shaky breath. Her whole body hurt. Ached in a way that it hadn't in a long time, not since she was young. Her body may not have been quite as frail as one would expect from a sixty year old, but she certainly couldn't bounce back quite as quick as she could twenty years prior. As such, a large part of her was happy that the Dark Jedi decided to talk yet again, at least for the time being.
She sensed no lie in the woman's words, but a small part of her still didn't believe it to be true. Though that could have easily been what remained of the Jedi in her. The one that believed in balance being the destruction of the Sith. If you asked the Jedi what "Balance" meant in that regard, they'd respond with the destruction of the Dark Side, or at the very least the Sith Order. Likewise, if you asked the same of the Sith, they would respond with the inverse. Few beings, Rhissai not included, believed in true balance. She simply preferred what was best for the people who couldn't help themselves. The people who weren't like her, Kvothe, or Acalya. "I stand corrected, Dark One.
"But, I don't care about any of that. There isn't a Dark Side, and there isn't a Light Side. Only the Force. There is the evil, dark, people such as yourself that wield it to destroy and cause suffering. Then there are the people that use their gift to make the universe around them better. After all," she remembered one of the final things her master said, "what man is a man that doesn't make the world better?" "Kvothe, if you see an opening to kill her... take it. If not, stay out as best you can. Please."
The Dark woman continued on to the... disturbing... recollection of a point in her past. How she smiled at the death match of her youth, and the chuckle at her own pain. Despite the radical differences in politics and philosophy, to say the least, the woman couldn't help but feel a tinge of her compassionate heart go out to the woman. A little girl being forced to fight something, anything, to the death was... depressing. Though she had no time to think on that further, as a challenge had been made. And that inner beast within her growled at her, warning her about a danger yet to be unleashed.
Time itself slowed to a crawl as that beast released the adrenaline within her system, strengthening her muscles and speeding up her reaction time. No immediate danger could be seen, except for the thumb that had been driven deep into that cauterized wound. She had heard of the few Dark Jedi that had thrived on pain, self inflicted or no, but she'd never seen one who'd actually mutilated themselves to attain a greater power. Not until that day. The shrill scream was heard in slow motion, and shortly after that the air did nothing more than waver out from the Dark One. Like she was seen from the other side of a mirage. Only the mirage bloomed outwards.
It was too late to escape the blast, thought that hardly meant she wouldn't try. Her hand flew out, and with it the strongest push she could muster. Rhiss' goal wasn't to stop the repulse... just to slow it down. It didn't go as well as she planned. She may as well have been a child's toy in a hurricane. The woman's one hundred and fifty pounds was thrown back like one. Her path was completely out of her control. Those emerald green eyes could see nothing but a blur as the body attached spun on its own axis, and that axis almost constantly moved. It was disorienting. Her world suddenly slammed in another direction as her leg slammed against the broken wall, throwing her body around in a violent horizontal circle. She landed with an ingraceful roll.
Acalya barely gave her any quarter; only taking the time to rip her thumb out of the now bleeding wound and let out a sneer. Pain. Rhissai had known pain in her life. More than most. She could fight through it, ignore it if she had to, but it was always there. Lingering in the back of her mind like a poison, slowing down her thoughts and reactions. That didn't mean that she didn't like it. She was no reaver, able to fuel herself on pain and misery. At least not until she passed a certain point, but that line would not be crossed this day. Under no circumstance.
She laughed at her own pain, her own weakness, and the attempts of this Dark Jedi. Her laughter was hearty, but had the strange quality of sound... making it somewhat disturbing if one could feel past the thick mental barriers she'd erected. Her lightsaber moved up to parry that swipe, and she did her best to dodge what bits of debris she could. "You think that is pain," she giggled, "you don't know the meaning."
The Force itself fueled her muscles, its cool rush augmenting them far beyond the scope of human comprehension. It made her entire form a graceful blur as she swung her saber forward, never once giving her opponent the opportunity to lash out at her with telekinesis or blade if she could help it. Pain roared at her, and every inch of her body begged her to cease the unrelenting attack. But she ignored it. Juyo was centered around a ferocious assault fueled on the rush of combat, only... this wasn't fueled on combat. Indeed, the woman had taught Rhissai a valuable lesson.
Pain was a powerful fuel. One that she would have to use carefully, but a weapon nonetheless. Her body cried out at its use, but those cries of increased agony were ignored. And used as more fuel to her unrelenting assault. She knew that she was flirting with the dark side a little more than she should have been, but at that point she realized that she would have to if she was to win. She desired to win for one purpose and one alone: this demon was more powerful than Korintha. He paled in comparison to the level of evil that she'd attained. If Rhissai could smite this one, then a real victory for the side of good would be won.
After a drawn out flurry, the woman pulled back to hopefully execute one final assault. Every bruise, cut, stab wound, and internal bleeding screamed at her to lie down and die, saying that a few moments of lessened agony was far better than continuing. Her eyes slid shut as she gathered the power of those screams, that pain, and amplified them with her own telepathic might. Indeed, this arena was currently one dominated by telekinesis. That would be rectified. A few moments passed by and the air itself seemed to still in anticipation, as if it feared what would spring from the woman's mind.
She unleashed it. A great explosion of telepathic power blossomed from her mind, its power able split a lesser being's mind in two with ease. Even Eva, who had barely left the room before the whirlwind lost control, would feel it... though at the most she'd have a headache. For those unfortunate to be in the epicenter of that mighty attack. Its effects ignored walls and any corporeal defense that anyone could erect. Her mind, her very will, threw itself against the woman's as her body surged forward to follow it in an attack that was somewhat less intense than the first. Though half of her mind was on a different level, attacking on the ethereal plane as well as the world of flesh.
No longer would she sit idly by as her greatest strength went unused.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
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Friendly neighborhood CEO
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Aug 19, 2010 22:24:16 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 19, 2010 22:24:16 GMT -5
It took some time to get things set up properly. Originally, Kvothe's plan had been to simply start trying to force the air in the area occupied by the woman's presence to move counter to the way it was being propelled. But, upon further thought, that method would only make things more difficult, if he could do it at all. Even if he could, he'd waste extra energy slowing down the air and then pushing it so that he could get a rotation going opposite the one that the demon had stirred up.
No, that wouldn't do. Instead, he began to craft his own whirlwind just inside the area of rotation that he was aiming to stop. There was still some resistance, as the air within that main area where the current was flowing interacted and exerted influence upon the air around it. But, as he focused, weaving the Mythos through the air to get it moving properly, his own whirlwind began to take form.
As it grew and gained power, he started to expand it, pushing it outwards to merge with the growing monstrosity that the woman had created. They grew closer and closer, until, finally, there was an impact.
Visibly, nothing happened. In truth, unless someone was standing on the edge of those two bands of wind, they probably wouldn't even have known anything was going on. But in the Mythos, it felt like Kvothe was taking a spinning ring of metal and slamming it into one that was spinning around in the opposite direction. His teeth grit together and he continued to move his whirlwind, pushing against the demon's.
It was working, to some degree. Though he could feel himself losing influence over the strength and course of his own whirlwind, he felt hers starting to slow. If he could just keep pushing, grind things in a battle of attrition, he might be able to stop it. She still had to focus on Rhissai, where he could put all of his attention on stopping her.
It was, perhaps, that very splitting of her attention that led to her creation falling apart. Kvothe wasn't paying too much attention to the battle between Rhissai and this woman, but something happened. The pressure that Kvothe was pushing against faltered, hesitated for a moment; but while that current faltered, his own did not. It continued to swirl, and in that moment of weakened resistance, it surged ahead. The other current never rebounded fully, and instead began to move out of control.
Kvothe looked up as things careened into chaos. The work of stopping the whirlwind was done now, and so he let his weaves die away as he turned to see what the source of the sudden failing was. He didn't really get much time to look around, though.
Metal groaned all around them as the energy from the whirlwind gone out of control was dispersed and thrown about. No! Kvothe's eyes went wide as he saw the room almost come apart. Shrapnel filled the air as the very material that made up Korintha's throne room was turned into deadly projectiles.
He brought his hands up in front of him and focused. The Mythos started to weave all around him into the shape of a bubble--one that would protect him from harm. It formed quickly, but not quickly enough to completely save him from getting hit. One piece of metal whizzed by his arm, leaving a trail of fire across his right bicep; another bit into his left forearm, and as the shield closed around him, he felt something slice across his right cheek, right under his older cut. All of them hurt, but the one on his forearm hurt by far the most. His concentration remained firm, though; if it faltered here, as the room turned into a deathtrap, the consequences could be terrible.
The shield held strong. It was visible as a soft, shimmering blue sphere of energy that surround him. Little waves danced across its surface with every impact. Each of those impacts sent waves rippling across Kvothe's consciousness, collectively building a strain that he had to fight against if he wanted the shield to stay up.
Stay up it did, though, until the last pieces of debris were falling to the ground. Kvothe let it drop and took in the room--which was a mess now, to say the least--and then looked at the two women. There they stood, wounded, bloodied, yet still, Kvothe could feel the determination flowing from both of them. In their presences, he could feel light and dark, and while it wasn't a struggle he concerned himself, he knew they'd fight each other with all that they had.
"Kvothe, if you see an opening to kill her... take it. If not, stay out as best you can. Please."
He probably should have been used to Rhissai's sudden talks into his brain, but he wasn't. Not completely. A little jump was the only outward sign that he'd heard her words, though. Alright, he said, running his thumb along Pietas' staff, I'll do what I can, Rhissai.
Then the woman--the demon--did something completely unexpected. She said something about pain and then went on to jam her thumb into the wound Rhissai's saber left in her shoulder. It was strange to Kvothe, but not something completely knew. That's something I'd epect to see from one of the Blood Mythics... Not... whoever this woman is Still, that did not make it any less disturbing. His expression shifted and his eyebrows furrowed as he watched. How someone could willingly do that was completely beyond him.
However, before he could continue to ponder the nature of the person that would push themselves that far, waves of power exploded out from the woman. Yellow streaked through Kvothe's widening eyes as he reached up, desperately trying to form a shield again. One got up in time.
The first wave crashed into it. It held, though Kvothe's vision almost started spinning from the force of the impact.
The second wave crashed into it and Kvothe fell to his knees, willing that thing to stay up with all that he had. He didn't even notice he'd been forced back a few feet.
Then came the third. It crashed into the shield like the rest of them, but this time, the shield shattered like a wall of sticks before the might of a surge pushed by a hurricane. The wave went on, slammed into Kvothe and sent him flying back until the wall stopped him. Even armored as he was, the impact hurt. It knocked the breath from him, sent pain out across his back and side, set the world to spinning around him.
There he lay for a few moments, muttering groggy nonsense to himself as he wished the world would stop turning. By the time he was pushing himself slowly, shakily to his feet, he looked up to see Rhissai battling against the demon.
And then came the next attack.
It suddenly radiated out from Rhissai, pushing out in every direction like the explosion from a bomb. Only there was nothing to see. It altered nothing in the environment around them. But to Kvothe, it was the absolute worst thing Rhissai could have done.
It was a telepathic attack. It slammed against Kvothe's mind with enough force to make his head ring. He fell back down to one knee and squeezed his eyes shut as terror gripped his heart. No--not again. Don't take me again, please. He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes as the walls of his mind bent under strain of holding back Rhissai's attack. Memories of his imprisonment flooded through his mind--memories of having his mind ripped open and used as a playground.
But some part of him held on, knowing that Rhissai was an ally. The attack past, and though it left him dizzy and with a headache, he was alright. He pushed himself back up to both feet and looked at Rhissai and the demon through his gold eyes that were streaked with pale yellow. This fight had to end. If that woman kept making those incredible attacks of hers... Kvothe looked to the side at the sound of a panel from the ceiling falling in and crashing loudly to the floor. And if Rhissai keeps doing things like that... or worse... His eyes squeezed shut again. He didn't want to think about that.
Kvothe looked around, until his eyes came back to that panel that had fallen down only a few moments before. Then they looked to the battling women. And then back to the panel. Perhaps if he could make a distraction for the woman Rhissai was facing it would be enough. It break her focus on Rhissai enough for the former Jedi to end the fight. Or, if she was too focused on Rhissai, his attack might land. Or it might hit Rhissai. Was that a risk he was willing to take?
Perhaps. but for now, he watched, waiting for a more opportune time to strike from the sideline.
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Apillis
Poonikins
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Aug 29, 2010 11:51:56 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 29, 2010 11:51:56 GMT -5
"Everything you believe, I will take from you. Everything you think, I will tear from your mind. Everything you try to forget, I will make you remember."
Those words of her dead Master echoed within her mind the second the shearing pain of Lyssah's telepathetic resonance tore into her mind. It felt as though her mind had been physically ripped asunder by a pair of hands. Acalya's crimson red eyes went wide in both torment and fear, the splitting pain of the telepathic invasion of her mind and Acalya's own psychosis assaulting her mind all at once. The Sith Lord dropped her shoto from her hand as she grabbed her head with that same very hand as her mind screamed in agony. She fell to knees and her other hand planted upon the cold metal floor.
Flashes of the past... her mother being decapitated... her father being slain... her brother being cut down... All vile acts of violence as visions in memories repeatedly flashing within her mind over and over again in rapid succession. It is not all that she saw, it is all that she could feel, not just their physical, but their fear -- their metaphysical -- the terror of having life being torn away from them -- from her -- from all that was loved and dear. All of it ripped away, taken away... left... in ruin.
"Weakness is what you embody. Only death can grant the sufferance of being its existence. That is all you are. All you will ever be."
His words further echoed within her mind as she cried out in suffering. An intense pulse wave of telekinetic energy exploded from the Sith Lord as she screamed in pain slamming against the inner walls of the throne room with a thundering rumble and shake that resounded seemingly throughout the castle. The walls yielded to the pressure giving in just a bit more as massive cracks spread throughout the walls of the throne room and even far beyond them.
The dar woman's blood red eyes wide and unblinking as they stared off into nothing. Fearful, much like a small child during a moment of surreal fear, reality is not what she saw only a vivid past -- she felt it -- experienced it... again, "Father...", she mumbled like a little girl. A telekinetic bubble something akin to a barrier begun to manifest around her, large enough to stand within. Everything within that sphere floated as if there were no gravity with exception to Acalya who remained grounded. But little bits of debris, her hair, even the lose bits of her clothes floated as if under still water.
So weak...
It is all a trigger within her mind, like a sleeper program implanted within a computer system to activate when triggered. Her master long placed such a thing when Acalya's mind when she was but a small little child to make her more easily conditioned and manipulate. Though, after decades of this she eventually grew strong enough to resist his mental manipulations. However... with Lyssah blast into the Sith Lord's mind, the trigger had inadvertantly been hit. Her own memories turned against herself as a weapon to torment her.
Always a victim...
"Cin... where's father going?", she mumbled like a terrified little girl, she gritted her teeth to the pain of the mental attack -- but the memory never died as tears streamed from her eyes still sounding like scared little girl as she mumbled, "I don't hear anything... Where's father and mother?", her blood eyes went wider as her lower lip begun to quiver while the fearful tears flowed, "Cin!"
Forever a slave...
Freedom is nothing more than a fable... All are slaves to power... Nothing you do grants you strength. Her quivering lower lip stopped, while the corner of her upper lip curled into an enraged sneer, "Even dead... he's still in my head...", she mumbled with a brewing fury.
Her eyes turned to gaze upon Lyssah, but it was not Lyssah she saw... It was someone else... someone who always ignited a great chilling hatred within her... With her mental state and the blinding pain ripping through her mind, she could not focus on a sing particular object the telekinetic barrier by itself is a strain. Raising her torso as she gazed upon the figure with every bit of loathing, hatred, disgust, and revile within her being. The dark side was like a torrent around her with the murderous wrath and fury that fostered a maelstrom of unbriddled enmity. The air even begun feel cold and heavy, almost stiffling and oppressive as was dense and thick -- seemingly difficult to breath in.
"Why can't you just die...?", she uttered to the figure with a heart filled with nothing other absolute malevolence, the very presence of the dark side could be felt resonating within those words even heard as echoing whispers resounding from them.
Because... you're too weak.
The answer from her own mind drove her into a further blinding rage and hate; for the figure she saw in Lyssah's place was no one else but herself. There is no other being in existence she has more than herself. The mental hallucination of herself smiled back at her in response, and Acalya's reaction was less of a scream and more of a roar of utter hate and suffering lacking the words to articulate all that she felt in this moment -- it was all far too intense.
Bring it all to ruin. "Destroy everything." Bring them to ruin. "Kill them all." Bring ruin unto yourself. "Die." Bring ruin to all. "Everyone has to die." Who are you? "I am Vorxere." What are you? "I am Ruin."
With an extension of a hand, palm up -- Acalya begun to curl her fingers ever so slowly like she was trying to crush something within her grasp even though there was nothing but air. Yet, it was at that very moment a rumble resounding throughout the entire structure could be heard as if coming from the outside from all around it. The castle begun to rumble and gradually grew louder little by little as Acalya every so slowly curled the fingers in her hand. The entire castle's outside structure begun to give way to some unimaginable force pressing against its outer walls, cracking them, breaking them almost as if it was slowly imploding.
The Sith Lord found it too difficult to focus on a small object, especially with her telekinetic barrier surrounding her. So she increased the object within her mind to make easier to focus upon, though perhaps she did not fully comprehend or appreciate the scale at which she expanded her focus to... that being the structure she is within.
With every shred of her telekinetic strength and prowess she begun crushing the structure housing them all. To kill her enemies... to kill herself...
"Die..."
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Aug 30, 2010 22:26:28 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 30, 2010 22:26:28 GMT -5
Rhissai charged forward towards the obviously perturbed woman, her shimmering silver blade held off to her right side in preparation for a barbarous whirl that would leave the Dark Woman's shoulders bare. There was a disheveled look about her form; her torn clothes, her sucking wounds, and half of the mane of raven hair had been wrenched from its bonds and flowed free like a cloak at her back.
Even beaten and bloody, weary from a short but terrible battle, and terrified she moved with that very same grace that had been seen when she entered the council chambers after that mission half a lifetime ago. Or so it felt. Back when the war was a cold one, and the battles were nothing but shadows and mal feelings.
Her feet rose and fell to the ground with the heavy clatter of her boots to herald her approach, and she let loose a clamorous roar as she prepared to swing. The powerful muscles of her torso clenched at once with her bellow, and the shimmering sword flew forward with the combined might of every muscle of her upper body and the mythical energies of the Force. Green eyes watched through squinted eyes and a scrunched face as the humming sword entered the corner of their gaze, and grew closer and closer to the woman's bare neck with every passing instant.
A terrible wail rended the woman's ears as her blade grew close to the Dark Jedi, and a powerful wave of telekinesis erupted from her just before the blade could go nowhere but through her flesh. Her charge wasn't just stopped dead, but thrown back far and fast as she collided with the wall of energy and willpower. Rhissai slammed against the wall with her back arched, and her whole body rolled into the wall. The former Jedi hadn't remembered the falling, just that she found herself on a knee and her saber out of her grasp. A brief glance of the area produced nothing, but to be fair there was far too many bets of debris to easily pick out a single cylinder.
Rhiss slowly rose to her feet with a grunt of pain, and wiped the mixed saliva and blood from her lips with her forearm. The cloth of which was torn and the tattooed flesh below eviscerated from broken shards that the now quelled storm had flung at her. Her lips became stained crimson as a result, but the woman barely noticed the odd warmth on her face and the horrible burning of her arm from the touch she'd given it.
It was now plainly obvious: her adversary was insane. Words of madness began to spout from her enemies lips, and the aphithiri also noted the bubble of telekinetic energy that enveloped her. Violet glinted in the Dark Jedi's hair as it floated around her, lazily tracking her head with every movement as if it were suspended in water. Shards of duracrete also floated around the woman as well, and her clothes hung in the same fashion as her hair.
It was safe to say that Jedi Master Rhissai'arckan had never experienced something of that nature before, and every last string of her heart told her to stay away. Especially when the mad woman began to strangle the air. Only, instead of a power collapsing around Rhiss or Kvothe's throat (as she expected), the whole castle began to tremble and quake as if some divine being willed its destruction.
"I think its time to leave, girl. You've done all you can... and staying means death," she thought as she slowly circled around the woman, giving her a wide berth and always angled her body away. She wouldn't be caught off balance by yet another Force Wave. Her eyes caught sight of Kvothe once more, and realized that both couldn't escape this place. "Kvothe," her eyes lingered on him for a brief moment before shifting to Acalya, "thank you for your help, but you've done all you can. I think this place is going to be alot smaller in a few minutes, and I suggest you get the hell out of here. I'll make sure you have enough time to get out before I do the same."
How would she do that?
She sat down on a proper piece of duracrete, allowed her palms to rest against her thighs, and allowed her eyes to slide shut. To Kvothe, or any other onlooker, it would look like that was all she did. But on an ethereal plane she was unleashing a hellstorm of her own on Acalya, throwing every last iota of her considerable mental might against whatever defenses she had set up. If one could see the assault take place in the waking realm, it would be reminiscent of an ancient siege. Great boulders and flares slammed against the fortress walls of the woman's mind relentlessly, each strike bore enough power to shatter a lesser mind.
However strong her barriers were, they wouldn't be able to stand up to her assault for long. If at all. Once (if) through, the woman would wreak as much havoc as possible. Despite this, Rhissai refused to cause any sort of damage to the woman out of some skewed sense of honor. Instead, she merely devoted her considerable might into keeping her enemy from focusing. Focus was required for even the most mundane of tasks, let alone a feat the likes of which hadn't been seen for at least a millennium.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Sept 5, 2010 12:09:41 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 5, 2010 12:09:41 GMT -5
Kvothe watched the two women continue on with their extraordinarily brutal battle. Their powers clashed, their wills slammed against each other and the very structure itself shook as these two juggernauts fought each other with all their might.
Incredible, he thought, it's not very often that a battle this severe occur. And I've never seen two such as these go after each other. The Mythic adjusted his grip on his staff absentmindedly as he stood there, watching them fight. That piece of the ceiling that feel in was still laying near him on the floor; he hadn't forgotten about it, but he'd decided to wait until Rhissai moved back to try anything. Wouldn't do them any good if he accidentally took her out and he was left to deal with the demon on his own.
Rhissai rushed in, and Kvothe found himself hoping that she'd land the blow that would bring this terrible fight to an end, but she didn't. The demon roared, and the palace shook. Energy exploded out from her in every direction, hurling Rhissai back like she was a toy and pushing Kvothe from his feet and back toward the wall once more.
An audible groan echoed throughout the throne room and bits of dust filled the air as the walls, already stressed as they were, began to crack. She's going to kill us all! Kvothe scowled as he pushed himself back up to his feet. The eyes that he flicked over in Rhissai's direction were gold, but mixed in with that gold, hard to see though it might have been, were little specks of yellow. You need to end this now, Rhissai, he urged, though no one but him could hear his silent words, or I'm going to step in.
When he looked back to the demon, his gaze froze. She was standing within some sort of bubble, and everything within said bubble was floating, as if gravity's reach was lost there. "That's not good," he muttered under his breath. Kvothe had seen something of the sort before, from some of the more powerful telekinetic practitioners in the order. He didn't know what the woman was planning, or even what she was doing, muttering nonsense to herself as she was. Two things were clear though: she was quite clearly crazy, and they were in a great deal of danger. The sudden thickening of the air only underscored that point.
The palace began to tremble again as the demon turned her energy out and then in, slowly but surely working to bring it crashing down around them. It was a feat that was on a scale that Kvothe couldn't even imagine, and if she was allowed to do it, they would all die.
"Kvothe, thank you for your help, but you've done all you can. I think this place is going to be a lot smaller in a few minutes, and I suggest you get the hell out of here. I'll make sure you have enough time to get out before I do the same."
"No," he answered simply, in a firm tone that said the point wasn't up for being argued. "I'm not leaving without you, Rhissai. I've already told you that."
He appreciated her concern for him more than he could say at the moment, and she was right in that the time for them to leave was nearing, but Kvothe wasn't in the business of leaving his comrades behind. Call it noble or foolish--he didn't care either way, but he wasn't going to change now.
In the mean time, something would have to be done to stop the building from coming down on their heads, or to at least delay it. Kvothe thought Rhissai was going to do something, but, much to his surprise, she just sat down... and stayed there, with her eyes closed. What is she doing?
He furrowed his brows. Now wasn't the time to meditate. But then the thought dawned on him that she might have been using her telepathic prowess to attack the demon. Every application of the Mythos took concentration. How much depended on what was being done and the skill of the user, but they all took focus. Breaking that focus, even for an instant, could prove to be enough to stop whatever was being done.
Why not attack her on two fronts, then? Kvothe looked about at the debris that had been tossed about by the demon's attacks. You attack her on the mental plane, Rhissai. The air stirred around him, creating a gentle wind where there should have been none. The wind whirled around him, stirring the parts of his robes that hung out from his armor and licking at his hair. Bits and pieces of debris, large and small were picked up as he stood there, commanding the wind to do as he willed. As the wind took them it brought them back to him and they began to swirl through the air around him in a small whirlwind of junk.
I'll attack her in this plane
The wind picked up then, going far beyond just a simple breeze. It howled, and as Kvothe mad a gesture toward the demon, it flew towards her, like an invisible freight train. With that train went the debris, to slam into the barrier that surrounded the woman.
Even if Kvothe wasn't as strong as this woman, he was very far from weak; to be stronger than him in telekinesis was the exception, rather than the rule. And even if his attack didn't break the bubble, the sudden impact of so many things slamming into her barrier should work nicely to distract her.
Mythos only knew they needed something to slow her down, before she killed all of them.
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Apillis
Poonikins
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Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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Sept 11, 2010 22:49:49 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Sept 11, 2010 22:49:49 GMT -5
It was a battle of will work, whose mind was the stronger -- whose will held the greater endurance. There was nothing but blind rage within Acalya's mind, her mind was lost within an utter dementia functioning only by the darkest will to crush... everything. It was her inner turmoil, the suffering she had endured for decades with its facade stripped away and lay bare for those present to see.
The dark woman begun to snarl at the Jedi Master, who appeared as the paradigm of what a Jedi should as she focused mind to disrupt Acalya's concentration. The vile sorceresses crimson hued eyes begun to become blood shot she willed every last shred of her power at the task at hand -- to crush everything. That is all her mind focused upon, to crush, bring down, bring ruin, to die. Nothing else lay within her mind, all she needed -- all she instinctually grasped upon with every fiber of her mental fortitude and strength was this action alone, even as her body begun to destroy itself in the process -- nothing else mattered.
Even as the wizard utilized his telekinetic prowess to assault the telekinetic bubble Acalya had formed around herself, she took no notice of it. The swirling telekinetic energies of the Force eroded eventually bursting the bubble, and with the telekinetic energy that was contained within it held back by Acalya's will suddenly upset that contained power turned against herself. When energy releases it explodes, and that is exactly what happened once the bubble of contained telekinetic energy was ruptured. It was an immense explosive wave of energy that sent anything remaining near Acalya to the walls, which included Acalya herself.
With a brutal slam she hit wall closest to her with her back knocking every last iota of her oxygen in her lungs, then crashed heavy upon the metal floor. With the exertion she putting her own body through to accomplish her singular desire in this moment, and the blow she had suffered, ever so slowly did she begin to pick herself up off of the floor. The deterioration from the exertion within her body showing itself as she hacked up blood as she got to her hands and knees. But ever did she continue forward, always pressing forward once again her left hand, its fingers curling like talons as if gripping upon something within the air where there was nothing; and still the entire palace quake and rumble through its halls at it was being brought low from the outside in.
The Jedi Master's efforts to unravel Acalya's focus was not without merit; however, for a Sith Lord the response was clear -- to push oneself even further -- to continue plowing through it. Once more lifting herself back up onto her knees. It was in this moment her snarl turned into a bellow -- no, more than that -- a cry, even a scream through the Force of bloodcurdling terror and grasped the air in front of her with both hands attempting to crush some invisible object between them.
The palace shook even more violently as she cried out, proving to be far more than just a simple cry or scream. It could be felt through the ethereal -- nothing but despair, anguish, hopelessness, and life time worths of suffering could be felt through it as it rippled and tore through the Force. It was an utter expression of Acalya's very existence within the dark side itself for so many years... all her life as she understood it. In various of her body, her brow, her shoulders, her back, her chest begun to draw beads of blood rather than sweat as blood begun to run down from the corners of her eyes. Everything she has, every last bit of raw power within herself she could muster she imbued into the sole thing she was able to focus on -- destruction.
The palace was steadily being crushed and destroyed at an increasing rate as Acalya put everything possessed into this singular expression of her dark will. Even within the throne room where the knight and the wizard confronted her monstrous being, the ceiling begun to cracked, and chunks of it begun to fall in bits and pieces. Though, it was clear by the abusive exertion and utter pain she was putting her own body through to accomplish this feat with a every fraction of her power, Acalya would not be able to escape its destruction...
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Sept 19, 2010 2:26:31 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 19, 2010 2:26:31 GMT -5
Just as Acalya's mind was hell bent on one thing, so was Rhissai's. Every iota of her power, her body, and her very being was devoted to one, simple thing: break her concentration. Her power stretched out across the small space between her and the demon, and latched onto the epicenter of its presence. Ethereal claws lashed out at the creature's mind, almost as if it were trying to tear it asunder. The mental anguish would have been extreme to the point of debilitating to even some of the strongest minds.
Yet it did nothing. Acalya was hardly slowed at every assault that Rhiss had sent. Not that the telepath knew. Her being was too devoted to the singular goal of causing mental pain and anguish to even realize that it was all for naught, and so she was all but oblivious to all of Kvothe's actions. Until he summoned the gale and unleashed its power on the demon. At first its fury did nothing to the Dark Jedi, but its power was great enough to whittle down the bubble's power. When its strength was spent a wave of telekinesis erupted from it, casting everything aside. Rhissai was too far to be effected by the wave itself, but still well within reach of the flying debris.
A large chunk of duracrete slammed into her chest as she sat, throwing her torso down and back with enough force to roll her entire body backwards. She rolled off of the duracrete block head first, her mind reeling from the power of the hit. A small partition of her mind was thrown off of its focus then, and it was that bit that realized her efforts were all for naught... and would get her killed. The thick tendrils of the woman's power receded from the demon.
The woman hadn't remembered falling, but her mind was almost solely devoted on causing Acalya pain at that point. It didn't surprise her at all that she "awoke" staring up at the cracked and webbed ceiling as her enemy's will tore it apart. She was surprised at the new pain, though. After being thrown, smashed, pelted, and cut there wasn't a single part of her body that didn't hurt in some capacity. It even hurt to breathe. Though all of it paled in comparison to the new feeling in her body. It felt not unlike being stabbed with a blade, only instead of being smooth and flat it was round and ribbed.
Rhissai peeked her eyes over her chest to see the tip of a crimson stained durasteel rod. A small smirk pulled at one corner of her lips despite the copious amounts of pain. She'd been many things. Stabbed, cut, shocked, beaten, shot, and even burned on one occasion (that midget was quite the pyro), but in the woman's sixty one years she'd never once been impaled. Funny thing to find amusing, but she did in any case.
Acalya's wail was shrill, loud, and it tore at her ears to be sure... but it was more than simply that. Rhiss could feel an ethereal weight to it, a power that shook at the already crumbling foundations of the palace. Needless to say, she was quickly thrown out of her poorly timed and oddly induced reverie and set her mind back at the task at hand.
She had been impaled.
Simply getting up was the easiest option, but she'd probably bleed out fairly fast... or at the least die of internal bleeding later. Or infection. Or whatever they call it when the waste of your intestines gets into your blood. No. Painful as it sounded, the best thing to do was simply leave rod where it was so it could be removed by a surgeon later.
Rhissai's shoto was called to her right hand and carefully ignited. Icy blue light soon illuminated the area around her, and caused long and dark shadows to stretch out from behind the myriads of debris. Using her sixth sense to guide her hand, the woman did her best to sever the gnarled piece of steel from its anchor.
After that she slowly, slowly, stood up and called out to Kvothe, her hand instinctively clutching her side once the shoto was put back in its place. "Kvothe..." her voice was weak as she walked towards him, "I think that's our cue to leave. I... don't think I can make it alone, though." A little smile graced her lips and she motioned to the bit of steel poking through her torso.
For a moment she looked back at Acalya, sensing every last bit of those mal feelings that made her what she was. A life's worth of angony and anguish, hatred, disgust, and those were but a few leaves in the forest. The worst of all was self loathing. Rhissai had always seemed to have a natural aptitude for empathy... and Acalya was no exception. Despite the fact that they were enemies, Rhiss didn't hate her. No. In that moment, where tears filled her eyes at her enemy's bad fortune and terrible past, she realized that she pitied the woman. She a single wisp of her telepathic might towards the woman and conveyed her own sadness... her pity... towards the "demon".
"Hurry," the woman said as she rushed off down the hall, moving as fast as her force augmented legs could carry her wounded form.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
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Sept 22, 2010 22:09:46 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 22, 2010 22:09:46 GMT -5
At first, there was no sign that Kvothe's efforts were having any effect on either the demon or her bubble. He ground his teeth, his gold eyes nearly shining with determination as he stretched himself, willing every spare ounce of power that he could into his attack, trying to do something, anything to put an end to the demon's actions.
It took time for the whittling down of the bubble that surrounded Acalya to begin, and truth be told, Kvothe didn't even notice when it did. He was too focused, too entrenched in his task to pay attention, even to that. But then the bubble broke and everyone became quite aware of what was going on.
A tremendous energy exploded from the sphere once its ethereal shell had been cracked. Everything in the throne room was pushed out to the walls. Once-harmless pieces of debris were turned into deadly missiles or hammers that threatened to flatten him if he didn't move out of the way or turn them aside.
Thankfully he, much like Rhissai, was too far back to be hurled physically through the air, though the impact of the wave slamming into him certainly made him stumble and threatened to take his balance from him. He recovered quickly--just in time to see a massive durasteel panel from the ceiling slicing through the air toward him. It flew horizontally, spinning like a disk. Kvothe didn't know if the edges were sharp or not, but at the speed the thing was going, it probably didn't matter; if it hit, it could probably slice through him like a knife, armor or no.
His hand shot out as he ducked down, and he lifted the thing up and over him, diverting its path as he had with the shards of metal Acalya shot at him earlier. It flew on slammed into the wall with a terrible screech and a shower of sparks.
Kvothe, still crouched down, then looked up in times for his eyes to widen in horror right before a beam from the ceiling that had fallen in earlier slammed into him. It took him in the shoulders, knocking him on the ground hard. Spots of color danced across his vision as the back of his head slammed into the hard floor. He recoiled instinctively, grabbing it as he tried to stifle a cry of pain.
At the same time, Acalya began to wail. It wasn't a normal wail. There was... something behind it, something powering it that made it unlike anything Kvothe had ever heard before. The power contained in that scream seemed to tear at his very soul, pressing down upon it with a dark, dangerous weight, and it did absolutely nothing to quell the growing pain in his head. He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears as he lay there on the ground, trying to keep the Mythos-forsaken sound out, but it didn't help. The power was still there, the weight still pressed at him.
We've got to get out of here, he thought, forcing himself to open his eyes and sit upright, despite his throbbing head. As he was pushing himself up to his feet, he felt vibrations rippling out across the floor. He looked up, yellow spreading around the edges of his irises as he realized what was going on.
The hope with stopping Acalya in her bubble had been that they would keep the palace from falling down around them. However, it seemed that, despite their best efforts, the damage had already been done. Even worse, the demon's terrible scream only seemed to be making things worse.
Time's short. We've got to go. Rays of the morning sun began to paint through the dust that hung in the air as it filtered in through growing holes in the ceiling. Kvothe pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his headache as best he could, and then looked for Rhissai.
Her voice called out to him. It was weak, thin. Something was wrong. He turned around to face the direction her voice was coming from and his breath caught in his throat.
Rhissai was there before him, with a metal rod through her stomach. "What... Are you..." Well, obviously she wasn't alright. Another slab from the ceiling fell near them, kicking up a cloud of dust. "Right. Go. I'll help you as I'm able."
She was well enough to move, at least, as she led the way down the hall away the throne room. Kvothe called Pietas to him to and followed after her, dodging around pieces of the palace that continued falling in around them. He whistled shrilly, making a sound that called out over the noise of the building collapsing in on itself. A ripple of recognition echoed through the bond he shared with Fas, who'd crept off into the shadows when they entered the room Korintha was hiding in. He would follow and catch up with them as they moved out.
Perhaps once they were out Kvothe could try to heal Rhissai's injuries, or at least do what he could to help her until they were able to get her to a medical facility. But, as the scream of the metal skeleton of the building told, first and foremost on their lists of things to worry about was getting out of the palace alive.
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
Master
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Oct 4, 2010 6:14:03 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Oct 4, 2010 6:14:03 GMT -5
What all else occurred around Acalya she had no idea of or understanding of, all she was and all she felt in this moment was blind rage. She became the prime example of the ultimate downfall for so many dark side practioners: losing control to the darkness within. Her focus destroyed by the Knight's telepathetic warfare, which lead to Acalya into plowing forward into utilizing what focus she had left into one single action, on the largest and simplest object she could direct her thoughts upon. But aggression to such extremes only leads to ones own defeat, and that is where this had lead her. The battles may not have had a defined victory, but the war lead to the demoness' own defeat and the Knight and Wizard's victory in this confrantation. The palace crumbled beneath her telekinetic grasp as she screamed with all the fury of the dark side. As beads of blood sweated from her body, tears of the same crimson liquid tumbled down her cheeks. Her hands as they appeared as though she were grasping the air, crushing something within them that simply did not seem to be there, eventually met. It was in this moment her bloody eyes with their crimson irises rolled back as she limply fell to the floor having little more to give. The palace of stone and metal caved in, crumbled, and toppled down all around her and on top of her. As the immense debris and pieces of the palace entombed her as it became its own ruin, she lay there beneath it all in a coma-like trance, and either by luck or something other she was not crushed beneath the palace's remains. When the destruction of the palace had at last settled as a grand heap of wreckage with Acalya laying within her tranced state underneath it all, an all too familiar dark whisper reached out into the minds of the Knight and Wizard, "'Til the next time...", the whisper faded away with a soft chuckle along with the sorceress' vile presence of the dark side into a deep hibernatic slumber... ----- Days had past until the sorceress had at last gained enough strength to gradually chip away from deep within the devastation of the palace to get free. It was a gradual process, especially still being weakened from the exertion of it all, she need to rest more and heal, but not within the ruins of a dead Hutt's palace. It is not the most adequate place for such restoration. After spending a fair deal of time crawling out of the rubble of the ruins, she slwoly made her back to her shuttle and set coordinates back to the Sensorium. Upon her return to the Sith fleet to whom she guises herself as a Military consultant for the fleet's admiral, Admiral Drayde, aboard his flagship -- the Centurion-class battlecruiser, Sensorium. The moment her shuttle landed upon the Sensorium, Acalya slowly walked aboard the grand battlecruiser wound and hazed in her own dried blood. The personal aboard the immense vessel cleared out of her way seeing her in the state she was, and given the aura she exuded even a those not sensitive to the currents of the Force knew to stay away from her. Upon reaching the bridge of the ship Admiral Drayde stood with his XO and leading officers, who turned to looked upon Acalya with wide eyes of dismay by both the sight of her and the sinister presence that radiated from her. Do to a meeting taking place amongst the leading officers of the vessel at the holo-console a sadly misguided ensign stepped in front of her preventing her from approaching the gathered any furthered. Drayde's face turned pale and cringed upon the ensign doing this, and the results while ghastly did not surprise. The entire bridge cringed at the sight as she grabbed onto the young man's face with her right hand. Her grip was like iron as he screamed in terror while the life was being drained out him, enabling Acalya to recover a small bit of strength from the boy's meager life. After the boy's lifeless corpse fell to the unforgiving cold metal floor at Acalya's feet, she stepped over his body and continued to approach the holo-console. Once standing amongst the gathered officers, Acalya turned on the intercom and patched into the communications of the rest of Admiral Drayde's fleet only before uttering to them in a her natural feminine tone that oozed the dark side's chill within each word, "I am Voxere, Dark Lord of the Sith, this fleet and its flagship is now under my command with the good Admiral Drayde as my second in command. Fall in line, or face the consequences.", the announcement ceased, and she then looked to Admiral Drayde he stood with wide-eyes of dismay and sweat dripping from his brow by the fear induced within him in this moment as Acalya looked straight into his eyes, "Is this understood?", though it was clear to him and the other officers she was speaking to them as well, and almost in perfect unison they nodded complying to her taking the reigns of what was formally Admiral Drayde's flagship and fleet. Without another word she went to the medbay of the Sensorium, removing her clothes, and soaked herself within a kolto tank to at last allow herself to properly recover from her wounds and great fatigue...
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