The Yellow Brick Road {Open}

[vallen]





Korriban.... 

Valleys encroached with the relentless aura of the darkside, riddling through catacombs that served as tombs for the long ago deceased Sith Lord--Vallen's breathe was taken away for just a moment in the midst of emotions surfacing. He could feel the goosebumping forming on his skin, enriching the sensation of anxiety with anticipation as to what would soon before him--the traditional sith teachings. 

Expected yet uninvited to interrupt his thought process, the intercom switched on and the distorted announcements articulated by a female in the language of basic pertaining to the ship's arrival to the planet of Korriban. This, of course, set into a motion which sent the ship's inhabitance into the pandemonium of preparing to unload the ship's contents as Vallen was traveling upon a freighter. Vallen simply gathered the few belongings that he had, all of which could be equipped to his form--robe, lightsaber and his special tool set. 

He left his quarters and headed down the hallway, moving past many others of varying species that were handling their affairs. Needless to say, Vallen could say this was the most diversity he had seen in his entire life though he wasn't impressed by it all. In fact, if it was possible, he would find the appearances and smells to be as distasteful as the qualities of his own species but such thoughts were irrelevant presently. He saw the automated doors lift and the platform extend and drop to the arid surface. 

The winds eagerly brought the landscape's weather to life for Vallen. Before he even escaped the metalloid walls of the ship's innards, the relentless heat accompanied the winds that pushed within the ship's interior--perhaps to prepare the young dark jedi for the dry heat which he was going to endure on Korriban. He simply hugged his hood more so over his face and proceeded outside to the exterior of Korriban--green hues moving about in observation of the space port he had landed within. 

There was an immediate plus to his arrival, apart from the dark energies which he was proceedingly more aware of, which was the fact he escaped the rather enclosed area which he shared with the various workers within the ship. The fresh air was amazing, albeit it was hot--but one could be optiimistic at times. He could hear others being herded, though his stride was trained to head within the enclosed city which the space port was contingent with. His first set of business was finding the Sith temple, after all---when one set out across the galaxy to find a certain thing having not done so before, the anticipation which progressively builds is unyielding and anything else must be put aside.

[Rugs]

Nieraan did not like Dreshdae. The pitiful little settlement as a necessary annoyance; it served an important role to keep traffic on and offworld, given that it was Korriban’s only settlement of note.

Well, for normal people, anyway.

Though I wonder what sort of normal people would want to live here, Nieraan mulled as he walked down the shuttle’s ramp and into to the tight, claustrophobic confines of Dreshdae’s spaceport. Even indoors, the air was arid and bone dry. Korriban’s climate was familiar enough to not bother him, if still not a particular favorite.

A few dockhands wished him welcome as they scrambled to tend to the shuttle. Nieraan largely ignored them as he walked along, white sash swishing and lightsabers gently pinging against each other in time with his stride. He was returning to Korriban, but only briefly; a dispatch to Tibrin was coming, the word he’d received was right, so he’d only have a few scant hours before it was back to the Nyoka and the never-ending matters that needed his attention.

A door swooshed open before him as he strolled from the docks and into the spaceport proper. The terminal’s usual deadened buzz was about as strong as ever, with the few travelers that were crazy or unfortunate enough to venture to Korriban trying to find their way to wherever they were going or waiting in hushed silence before they could depart.

It was easy to tell inhabitant from tourist, with senses like Nieraan’s; someone who didn’t know what to do with the dark power that permeated the world could only live in it for so long before a hauntedness started to seep like disease into their presence. He passed a woman in a cleaning uniform, with a long face, and haunted, shallow eyes under her brittle-looking blonde hair. He supposed that would be sad, if he had the mind to care for it.

But he did not.

His walk took him further from the docks and toward the spaceport’s main entrance. From there, he’d need only to find and speeder and take the short trip to the Temple; all of which could’ve been avoided if the temple’s landing bay wasn’t presently full.

A glass door parted and he walked through it, lost in his thoughts, until he felt a presence move nearby. The Force echoed within, potent, if not yet finely honed. The feeling itself wasn’t uncommon on Korriban, let alone a hop and a skip away from the Temple.

His yellow eyes immediately followed the signature to their source, and he found a Devaronian. He thought it was Doviculous at first glance, but no, this one was the wrong size. A sort of excitement radiated through the being’s body and out through the Force. He carried himself with the eager determination Nieraan expected from a first time visitor.

“Another hopeful, hm?” he said, loud enough for the other to hear, though he didn’t stop walking where he was going. “I’m surprised you knew to find the spaceport. Most just try to kick the Temple’s front door in.”

[vallen]

Vallen would have liked to think that he had percieved the other's presence through the force before Neiraan did him, if only for the fact that Neiraan seemed considerably more powerful and saturated within the textures of the dark side. Needless to say though, Vallen's background proved that he was a spawn of the darkside--or perhaps just evil. The idea to increase one's power through another; this is what beckoned Vallen's attention. His own eyes, once a vibrant, lively green, had now transformed from the taint of the darkside to a piercing ominous yellow--a trait consistant with the encroachment of corrupt energies. These eyes were cast towards Neiraan as he approached in the distance, and upon him nearing, he realized then that he had gathered the attention of the other as well.

"Another hopeful, hm?"

Vallen almost immediately cringed, though instead simply grimaced at the words as though disapproving. The entirety of his life had been spent being somewhat of an oddity amongst his peers. This was a facet which, at first, arrived unwelcomed though over the course of his life one could say the thoughts and instincts which seemed to come natural to Vallen and not to others were qualities in which he had grown rather fond of. He had embraced himself and cast distaste over most others. Having said this, no--he wasn't just another hopeful as far as he was concerned.

"I am Vallen Thul," he spoke to the man just then, after the second statement, and framed the dialogue to come off as more friendly then the word's really were--both correcting Neiraan and introducing himself simultaneously to perhaps disguise it or simply sugar-coat the retort. "One could say breaking doors down isn't my cup of tea. Then again, we all have our ways..." The statement was accompanied by nothing more than a sinister grin and yellow hues aligned to Neiraan's. "Forgive me, but who may you be?" He inquired, his voice diplomatic and smooth, reminiscent of a politician's suave fashion of speaking.

[Rugs]

[HAven't posted in a while. Not particularly meaty and not particularly great, but it'll do for now]

“A hopeful by any other name is still a hopeful,” Nieraan said, a rare singsong quality coloring his voice briefly before fading to imagination once more. He stopped nor slowed his stride, and the Devaronian — or Vallen, as he’d introduced himself — would have to walk if he wished to hold Nieraan’s attention, or he’d be left behind. Sith Lord or no, it wasn’t Nieraan’s job to show the hopefuls through the door, and if they couldn’t figure it out themselves, well, that was hardly his problem.

"One could say breaking doors down isn't my cup of tea. Then again, we all have our ways..."

“So we do,” Nieraan muttered. He wondered idly if the Devaronian hoped to impress or if he always acted that way. He didn’t really care to question and find out.

"Forgive me, but who may you be?" Vallen asked as they strolled along.

Nieraan shrugged. “A Sith,” he said simply. “You can call me Aurelius, if you must have a name. But I am a Sith and you are a hopeful,” he continued, hands stuffed casually into his jacket pockets, stride lazily relaxed. “So I imagine the ass-kissing is coming, sooner or later.”

He glanced over his shoulder, yellow eyes sharp on the Devaronian; unsettlingly so, in his boyish face. The gaze lingered for a moment, hard and measuring, until Nieraan shrugged and continued on his way, seemingly as bored as he had been the moment before.

“Well the Temple ain’t hard to miss. Whether you get to start living there, though… well, that’s entirely up to you.”