Gym Time (Open)

[Raytheon]

Permenion had recently awoken from his recovering slumber, his ship was a elegant and royally decorated break from the drab and dry desert planet of Korriban. Draped in crimson curtains, rare rugs and ornate furniture however he would spend only rare times within it for the occasions of sleeping, recovering from injury or enjoying elegance.

Having recovered after nearly forty hours in recovering stasis his bites, scratches and cuts, slices were healed. His time as a Jedi Shadow gave him a particular skill set in self medication, and injury care though in all honesty kolto tanks offered him a great universal option.

He could sleep, meditate or simply relax while the healing effects of kolto tended to wounds, bacteria also deteriorating the effects of the darkside upon his complexion. If a quality could be shared of Permenion it was narcissism, he had a high opinion of his appearance and though it his obsession with fitness.

This day he found himself lacking of proper vascular boldness and definition in his musculature, he was within the temple gym or what passed for a Gym. A majority of the Sith focused on the strength of their personal command of the force rater than their bodies.

While this was commendable it was often their downfall in combat and when faced against Jedi as Permenion could often attest by experience. Most Dark Jedi were strong in the force and weak in the body and left them fatigued, gasping for breath, cramps in their muscles pausing in their technique and eventually death.

Permenion knew this and would not be caught off guard due to any form of weakness, the way he was trained as a padawan he was taught when training the body one should not implement the force. "Seventy eight, seventy nine.." He counted to himself mentally as he performed another pull up on the pull-up bar.

Wearing only black spandex shorts, and his utility belt where his lightsaber hung loosely at the left side. His muscular frame slightly more pumped as he continued pull up after pull up, a strain of branching veins arching from his pecs down his arms.

Each rep a painful and vivid memory of an injury he suffered in combat that could be avoided, it motivated him, it drove him to push himself beyond the searing pain of muscle fatigue.

"Ninety nine, One hundred and that is set three." He finally dropped down to his feet immediately stretching his arms as his latissimus dorsi and biceps immediately began to spasm and jump multiple times as he exhaled a small groan before finally standing as the few initiates and other Sith in the room watching him as he walked over to sit on a nearby bench lifting a water bottle and gulping down nearly all of it before carelessly tossing it away a small puddle of sweat beginning to form on the floor between his legs as it drips from his finger tips and nose.

[Foxfire]

Honog moved into a training room which were filled with sith of every level. He had came not to test himself but to give his student a bit of training in watchful actions. Sol had the power but lacked the final skills the honed skills of a masterful sith. Honog wanted him well rounded and strong enough to take on any action any opponet. moving alone the edge of the room he went to the far wall and waited for Sol to show. A simple set of weights was there before him. Picking one for each hand he set to do curls and lifts.

The action was not to simply strengthen his muscles but he used the time to focus his mind and sharpen skill in creating force bubbles and shields. The physical effort mixed with the mental focusing gave him a way to create movable fields. Working for only a few moments he gathered a few of the odd weights and placed them around himself. Sitting in the middle of the weights he closed his eyes and drew up the force that he held shallow and shielded. Each weight started to float and rise up and down in sequance.

Sighing he hated waiting but giving to his anger here would only be a bother. So some good came from teaching his new student. Calmness and waiting attitude was what he found hardest to achieve. These were not the sith skills he was taught nor like but they often had to be used especially when around others.

[Raytheon]

Permenion sat on the bench at first admiring his own reflection in the puddle at his feet before it was mopped away by a janitorial droid. Breaking his attention he looked over to his gym bag reaching over and grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his face, chest and arms before before to stretch out again while standing.

It could be apparent from his attire of simple spandex shorts that he dressed vastly different that the many other Sith in the gym. While many in the facility whore robes or casual workout clothes he made it a point to have the least amount on without being naked. It provided him with pure body training, without restrictions or materials that would only make him warmer.

He didn't notice who was in the gym, it didn't concern him he was much too narcissistic and egocentric to really care about anyone than himself during this time. As he inhaled a final breath before reaching over to pull a pair of socks and sneakers from his bag, quickly slipping on the purple colored socks, and black sneakers, lacing them up tightly before standing and approaching the nearby bench press.

Leaning over to grab some weight plates he slipped on enough weight to total up to three hundred and fifteen pounds (150kgs) each plate he added making a metallic clap resonate in the gym. With the weight finally loaded he sat and positioned himself in the bench hyping up himself p before finally laying back and lifting the weight from the rack as he began to press out the reps.

"One ... Two .. Three... Four little padawans..Five.. Six.." This count wasn't as much mental as it was grunted in whispered tones, keeping his feet flat and back arched slightly he maintain perfect technique to keep the focus of each rep on his chest and triceps. "Eight... Nine.. Ten.." Finally exhaling a deep breath before racking back the weight with a thunderous clap of metal. quickly sitting up he tugged the towel that barely rested on his shoulder dabbing his face before letting it drape back unto it. Occasionally combing his drenched hair back as it continued to fall over his face, darker due to it being wet however still unmistakably blonde.

It was then he finally noticed the Noghri, he encounter their kind before rather vicious and hard to kill agility made them hard to hit but not impossible. He seemed in both ability and appearances to be unimpressive Permenion soon paid him no attention as he collected his breaths to continue his workout.

[Raytheon]

(Posting, waited two days sorry.)

Both a gift and a curse was having an eidetic memory while it allowed him to memorize with perfect clarity all events in his life granting him the ability to absorb knowledge and languages like a sponge. It also keep him vastly aware of injury and pain as if it only occurred yesterday he could still feel the painful searing burn of a blaster wound, as well as the slash of both metallic blades and a lightsaber.

The pain of loss, of heart break and sadness all relevant and relived with vivid detail. While a downfall he turned it to motivation, it churned his personality to enjoy vast amounts of pleasure to drown and suffocate the pain he felt, experienced, suffered. However on the flip side he would be in the gym also to assure such things would not happen again, the system had worked. His only injury being that of rough and passionate activity with Naraka, however that was a memory he fully enjoyed.

Though he kept the Noghri mindful though, some initiates attempted to though discouraged sabotage him, challenge him and though have yet to succeed to thwart him or provoke him he was still mindful of the challenge of competition.

He laid the sweat damp towel over his lap laying back, adjusting his hand position on the bar before lifting the weight again and slowly lower it to his chest in a controlled manner. His entire upper body flexed and prime for action as he began dishing out the repetitions.

"One, Two, Three." while it indeed looked simplistic it was become difficult and straining he refused the aid of the force, dedicating only the power of his own body to exert the necessary force. He continued with the slow controlled reps until he laid down the weight again as it resonated a deep metallic crash again with him quickly sitting up. His workout catching the eyes of young or physically weaker Sith who he could feel slight envy pouring off of.

A small smirk formed with his lips as he didn't offer them a direct glance but looked to them through his peripheral vision. He lifted the trowel dabbing his face and chest again taking in deep calculated breaths to properly oxygenate his body, giving his muscles the much needed oxygen for lactic acid synthesis and nutrients.

The muscles on his chest and arms visibly twitched as they spasm in fatigue, a much required by product of training and strength growth. Reaching out to his side he pulled a fresh water bottle from his bag his first overt use of the force since working out before twisting off the cap and pouring a bit over his head and the rest in his water as the guzzled it down. The rush of ice cold water coursing down his throat and into his stomach before tossing the bottle for the custodial droid to fetch.

[Othorious]

Deep within the dark confines of the Sith Temple on Korriban, Doviculous flipped through a massive leather-bound tome inscribed with runes of unknown origin and unknown purpose. He had been studying this tome for three days straight now, delving through it's passages and learning everything he could from the teachings of the old masters. He had acquired this tome many days ago on another expedition to Vendaxa to delve into the caves that the Burning Order had occupied for generations. He had found a fount of knowledge and artifacts, books, statues, lightsabers even. All had proven somewhat useless until he found this book behind a locked door guarded by a massive war droid. It revealed everything to him, he just had to further his knowledge and decipher the inscriptions, which was a difficult and mentally draining process in itself, but Doviculous had a pair of rather clever and intelligent servitors that he had found amongst the Vendaxa ruins to serve him.

He could have killed them, but they were worth more to him alive. They knew how to decent decipher the text in the tome and so proved invaluable to him until their usefulness was spent, and he would dispatch them like pigs ready for the slaughter. Doviculous sighed deeply and closed the tome with a loud thump causing the two robed figures in the opposite corner of the room to jump slightly and stare at Doviculous as if he was going to rend them to shreds with but a thought, but all Doviculous did was rise from his chair and quickly move towards the door of his chambers. "I'm going for a walk to clear my head, keep working on deciphering that text or I'll thrust your head on a spike." He said with lazy malice as he opened the heavy metal door and walked out into the dimly lit hallway and turned to head towards the area of the temple that held the training chambers.

The air in the hallway was a bit musty, but Doviculous was used to the air of the long dead for quite sometime. Once you spent enough time surrounded by the dead, you begin to just adapt to whatever is thrown at you in that manner. Through some ingenius twist of fate Doviculous found himself in the gym, which only housed a few inhabitants, two of which he knew, but only one peaked his curiosity to the point of making interaction. The man he had seen a few days earlier, Haust or whatever he let himself be called. Names didn't matter at this point, but Doviculous eyed the Human intently before making his way over to where the man cooled himself off with a splash of what Doviculous assumed was icy cold water. "Aha, just the man I was looking for." Doviculous lied, "Haust, is it not? Ah yes, it must be you. For who else could it be?" He said with a slight smirk playing upon his lips.

"I thought I might find you here, training to keep in peak physical shape no doubt?" That reminded him, Doviculous really needed to keep up his training. He'd been lacking lately, and he'd hate to openly admit it but he really needed to hone himself back to how he was a few days ago, otherwise he'd be weaker than he'd like if faced with a challenge. Perhaps after this business was done, he'd treat himself to honing his skills in one of the nearby training rooms. Set those levels dangerously high in order to keep his sense acute and in tune with the world around him. But this conversation comes first, then personal treatment after... Doviculous thought to himself as he waited for the man's response.

[Malice]

Sol had finally arrived at the training room after answering the call of his master. The doors to the room opened as he walked through, the force drenched the room in its darkside. Sol could feel the slight frustration in his master for his tardiness. Sol had just returned to Korriban after killing off the last tie he had to a faction of gray Jedi.

My master, forgive me for my tardiness. There were some loose ends I needed to tie up.

Sol would kneel before his master as the weights circled above, awaiting his masters orders.

[Raytheon]

"Aha, just the man I was looking for."

"Haust, is it not? Ah yes, it must be you. For who else could it be?"

"I thought I might find you here, training to keep in peak physical
shape no doubt?"

The mention of his name caused him to look up, then quickly stand it was the Devaronian he remembered him, he watched himself and Naraka that day. Doviculous he called himself he recalled the entire conversation, with crystal clear clarity.

The offer, the flirtations and promises of alliances and the anger from denial. The thought made Haust smirk the memory of him angered and stomping away as if a child told he could not watch anymore holonet programs. The thought and the combined memory made him chuckle slightly.

"Yeah I'm Haust, the guy you completely ignored the other day... But no hard feelings we aren't all Sith Masters."

He stood holding his towel in his hand as he wiping the sweat off his chest, and walked to his bag to lift out a protein bar still in it's sealed wrapper. He tore it open before taking a large bite from it by the looks it was chocolate and by taste it was delicious. Haust took a long moment to chew for nearly fifteen second before swallowing and continuing.

"But regardless you want to see me for some alliance I suppose you don't seem to be the sort to be sentimental or make friends you are a ... Sith. So lets cut to the chase whats your proposal and why would I, an initiate be interested in it what will I gain from it and what do I have to look forward to by helping you with it."

It was him gym time and as much as he enjoyed a good verbose exchange he usually enjoyed solitude at his workouts. If anyone really knew they'd know his labeling as Sith was an insult more than an acknowledgement of title. Huast wasn't a traditionalist after one could easily tell that by his spandex shorts and overall fashion sense.

By now the rumor mill would have spun of his little fling in the Cantina and the wealth he flaunted when paying for the damages. The fact he over paid and ended up, upgrading the cantina with his contributions many knew he was affluent and while it gained him the attention of many initiates who wanted to hang out with the rich kid, he denied all but the attractive ones he considered good looking enough for a plow and laid them away.

And yet now a ranked Sith desired to speak with him, it was obviously for personal gain with some promise of power as he did with Naraka it was almost predictable. His reaction however to his boldness would lay down the cement for the future.

Though in the distance of his peripherals he could see a knelt individual but paid it no heed it mattered not for him.

[Othorious]

Doviculous would smirk, This one was clever, no short cuts, no bullsh!t. Good. He would clasp his hands together in a quick gesture as he began his proposal. "As I would have expected from a man of your caliber, no lolli-gagging then. I'll get straight to the point. I have come before you today to, yes, ask for a proposal of Alliance." He'd unclasp his hands now, deciding to use the more common 'gesturing with your hands with each important word technique'. "An Alliance of like-minded individuals with the sole purpose to seek power and spread the ideals of the Dark Side throughout the Galaxy. Now, don't get me wrong, friend, the Sith are a great catalyst indeed. But I find their way of handling it... different from how I would see it get done. Instead of assimilation, we should enslave everything and eradicate any who would oppose us and revel in a Galaxy of debauchery and darkness."

He'd basically spit out these words through a grinding whisper than held aloft an aura of malice and madness. The muscles near Doviculous' organic eye twitched uncontrollably, but with some effort Doviculous forced his facial features to return to the normal impassive look with the occasional smirk that spoke volumes of what may lie within his head. "I was not as straight forward with the woman, for I had not readily formulated the correct way to explain this, but she is not a lost cause. I hope she will join us, if you so choose to join with me on this great venture of the Dark Side." He stopped for a moment, suddenly remembering a short detail of what had happened in a local cantina that involved Haust himself. "And... I heard you have quite a bit of wealth. Why not put that to perfect use? Funding the construction of our little Alliance into a larger and far more menacing Alliance that even the Jedi will shake utterly terrified in their boots at the very mention of our name. Now, of course you may want to know what is the technical term this Alliance will have, a partnership? Kind of. But I was thinking along the lines of... Cult. Yes, a Cult. Now. A Cult needs Cultists, correct? Aha! I have that covered already dear friend. I just need extra aid in order to acquire everything I need to maintain a Cult for a prolonged period of time, which is where you come in. Plus, in the end you can have whatever your black heart desires."

During his entire speech, he had gestured between himself and Haust, adding a bit of movement to what would otherwise be a rather stationary speech. He stopped and looked at Haust with a expecting look, and secretly hoped that Haust would at least consider such a partnership. It would truly benefit both, Doviculous would have a source of income and Haust could have whatever his heart desired in the end, as long as the Cult was brought up to it's full glory and the name of this Cult be feared on dozens of star systems.

[Raytheon]

An alliance, it wasn't something he would entirely require but then again he didn't require a lot but still had it. While Doviculous began his speech Haust looked away not out of disrespect but because looking at someone wasn't require to listen to them. He reached into his back pulling out a white sleeveless t-shirt pulling it over his head and pulling down snugly as it hugged against his muscular torso.

It it finally on he combed back his hair with his fingertips, then looking back up to Doviculous with genuine interest in the speech. A cult... of all proposals, in his time Haust had ended cults destroyed them, dismantled them and their entire membership. The darkside made them overly predictable easy to build strategy around them, they thought and acted with too much with aggression. Just like he thought even the proposal was predictable, albeit it was a far fetched proposal he ran the possibility through equations of causality.

The Order had piggybacked off the success of an aristocratic movement known as the Empire gaining them military might, tax funds to build from, propaganda networks, intelligence agencies. This cult would have to build from scratch even given his wealth and economic considerations it would be a small time possibility of success however success still sat there.

However direct affiliations with the cult also could mark him as being with them, any action taken by them would ultimately affect him.

"Hmm, you sell a good offer however I have doubts of it's eventual gain in power but I'm not saying no. Instead I'll offer something different. Are you familiar with a shadow partner if not this is what it is, I'll offer you the finances as well as financial advisement on your Cult investments. In return I expect a monthly return on my investment say... 75% of monetary gain.

This way you get the needed capital and retain all managing and commanding influence and me I only worry about the funds and my returns. But I'll be able to forward lets call them assignments to help the organization financially grow as with all organizations you need money to grow, to attract membership in the end you'll have a well oiled machine I have a sound investment it's win win."

He calculated the ability to have a cult do occasional biddings to increase his own funds, a mutual agreement and a beneficial investment to boot. Economically it was the best option for him to partake, without making his own hands dirty.

"Are these acceptable terms? Doviculous.. perhaps in the future I may join with a more direct approach to the Cult's organization?"

He posed the response casually as if selling apples and oranges to a passing party. Business for him was simple and now he would see if it was business this being wanted to do.

[Othorious]

Doviculous would consider the terms Haust set forth. They were decently reasonable and Doviculous didn't need any credits for large scale developments, at least not yet. "Acceptable Haust. I won't need much in the beginning however, but as we grow so too will your pocket, so you have nothing to fear there. I assure you, by the end of this you will come out wealthier than ever before." The die was now cast with these words. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place with the recruitment of Haust to the cause, however indirect he wants himself to be. He will soon be unable to deny his pivotal role in this genesis of infamy. There were only a few now that needed to conform to create this puzzle picture. Doviculous had his eyes set on Naraka still, and even Honog would prove to be a perfect player in this prolonged game of chess.

"Then I suppose that is all we need to discuss then? When I will need you, I will seek you out again." He said as he turned and walked over now to Honog whom Doviculous had noticed right when he entered the gym and offered a quick and respectful bow to the Noghri. "Ah, Honog. It's been too long old friend, far too long." He said with that same old devious smile planted across his features, his mechanical eye whirring slightly to focus in on the man kneeling before Honog. Who is this? Doviculous wondered, Has Honog found a protege? Interesting... He would have to inquire about him later, but now wast not the time.

[Raytheon]

"Acceptable Haust. I won't need much in the beginning however, but as we grow so too will your pocket, so you have nothing to fear there. I assure you, by the end of this you will come out wealthier than ever before."

"Excellent he accepted." Huast thought to himself and if this turned to be a sound investment and he did indeed turn out richer than before then it would have been well worth it. Of course Huast would have to contact his accountants in order to make sure the money was properly allocated for the use of this venture.

He began thinking of the various means in which he could use the cult to his advantage eliminating business competitors, playing the intergalactic stock markets. The options were endless and above all profitable, in fact the end result would always be better.

Haust decided his workout was finished, shoving his towel into his bag as he quickly picked it up, looping the strap over his shoulder and leaving however the comment made by Doviculous did not go unheard. Though he wouldn't show it he would remember for future sake. "The Noghri is named Honog" Haust remembered that name it may come in handy to know his name in the future after all.

With that done he finally walked out of the gym, leaving without another word or action.

[Raytheon]

"Acceptable Haust. I won't need much in the beginning however, but as we grow so too will your pocket, so you have nothing to fear there. I assure you, by the end of this you will come out wealthier than ever before."

"Excellent he accepted." Huast thought to himself and if this turned to be a sound investment and he did indeed turn out richer than before then it would have been well worth it. Of course Huast would have to contact his accountants in order to make sure the money was properly allocated for the use of this venture.

He began thinking of the various means in which he could use the cult to his advantage eliminating business competitors, playing the intergalactic stock markets. The options were endless and above all profitable, in fact the end result would always be better.

Haust decided his workout was finished, shoving his towel into his bag as he quickly picked it up, looping the strap over his shoulder and leaving however the comment made by Doviculous did not go unheard. Though he wouldn't show it he would remember for future sake. "The Noghri is named Honog" Haust remembered that name it may come in handy to know his name in the future after all.

With that done he finally walked out of the gym, leaving without another word or action.