Trouble.

[Damien Corman]

Trouble. That was the word usually associated with Damien. His appearance could give you that impression, standing at about 6 feet 4 inches, Damien Corman looked as menacing as you could get. His backstory, perhaps, could give you an implication of trouble, as well. His parents, both deadbeats, brothers, sisters, all taken away at such young ages. Thus leaving Damien to fend for himself most of the time anyways. The look of anger, almost seemingly etched into his face, and his constant silence told you a lot about his character. He was not a verbal person, he took in his surroundings, listened, learned. That was how he thrived in danger, and how he thrived in battle. He frequently fought with other children his age, due to his fits of anger he had. His troubling backstory, and struggles of abuse were key contributors to his behavior, that was certain. Damien would speak when spoken to, in a low, puberty stricken voice.

His eyes were lined with thick brows of brown, and those brows were complimented by brown eyes. He had a thin line of facial hair, from his sideburns to his chin, and a bit of hair on his upper-lip. His hair matched the brows, and was a shade lighter. His cheeks were sunken in a little, and his jaw was very prominent, due to his skinny, but athletic structure. He was by no means scrawny. His "man-muscles" had yet to fully develop, but they were blooming. He had no idea what was in store for him, but he decided on that fateful morning that he was to leave his home planet, and never return. He packed what little belongings he had, a pair of briefs, pants, and a worn out long sleeve. He slipped on a pair of boots, and strode off into the early morning of Jakku, and set out to leave.

His ride was bumpy, sure, and he acquired many looks from many people, mostly dissapproving. He was 17, looked about 21, and looked like he could take on a full grown man by himself. He got up and strode to the exit of the transport ship, which had now arrived at its destination. "Corellia" he thought to himself... Far from home indeed it was. But he didn't have a home anymore, as far as he was concerned. He stepped off of the ship, his boots planting into the ground. He took in his surroundings, a common occurence for the boy. He began to stride onward. His destiny was now about to begin, a new life, of trouble perhaps. The boy had raw, untamable power, that he was not aware of yet. His life with the Sith was forseeable by anyone who could feel the force, but to the boy, he was on his way to find his place in the world.

[Slade Xandir]

They had finished up their business, and Blood had asked his Apprentice to park the ship in the Landing Bay, and to wait for him there. The Apprentice obliged, his service met with an appreciative nod from the Sith Lord. It was good he had run into Emre when he had; everyone seemed to have a troubled life they were running from. From Emre just so happening to be on his doorstop covered in bruises and self defensive coy manners to the very hulk of a man he watched currently who just so happened to match him in height. He walked with a darker chip on his shoulder than most, and it didn't take much for the Wolf to sniff with the Force. Through the flesh of this man, through the meat, the bone, into the vortex of strands deep within the bosom of he, lied a wisp of Force aura.
A whisper of life within.

This youth held Force potential, and the Wolf hungered for it.

Blood walked moved through the terminal of arriving guests, a mass of humans and aliens alike who were keen on beginning their voyages on this planet. This was a planet he did not belong on, as his voyage was already in motion. He was a Sith Lord; of course it had. He held a pack of Apprentices, and just as he was, they were growing in might. Uniform and disciplined, the pack worked as one, and Blood maintained a steady hand to ensure they were headed in a direction that would only further the legacy of the Sith.

This one could be next.

Walking in the direction of the target, he would find himself being approached by a man drenched in dark aura. His long mane was down, past his well toned shoulders, that were being illustrated well in a sleeveless matte vest of obsidian shade, matched with black flares, who were tucked into calf high leather boots. A cape flowed elegantly behind him until he stopped just before the manly youth he sought, when it too, stopped.
Golden irises locked with the wood hued gems of the teen as they looked eye to eye. And with baritones silking directly to the youth, he said,

"You belong somewhere that you can be who you were destined to be. This place is not it."

The Sith Lord stood, poised calmly as if he were comfortable in the enviornment, though he was itching to leave this place. Arms lay smoothly to his sides, bracers holding a pair of dragon bone hilt scaled and fanged sabers underneath the flats of his forearms, the power switches glowing a dangerous burgundy under the shadow the cloak provided.

It had been made clear he too, did not belong here. He just showed it more pronouncedly than the lad before him.

[Damien Corman]

Damien had mostly been walking with his head down, moving in pace with everyone, they were all walking along in the same direction, same pace... mostly. There was all kinds of intellect, Damien had seen most species, living his life on a densely populated planet. His attention soon withdrew from the ground as a pair of boots stopped before him, going the opposite direction as he. He looked up, and was surprised to be meeting eye to eye with a man. That was not a usual occurrence, and the two stuck out like sore thumbs.. Damien knew that for a fact

“You belong somewhere that you can be, who you were destined to be.”

These words rang through Damien’s head, and it took him awhile to even fathom what the true meaning was... the thought had never really crossed his head... what was Damien Cormans destiny? He locked eyes with the man, and began to clench his teeth, a nervous habit sort of. He stood for a few moments, taking the figure in, he was jus as tall as Damien, and he was a knight clad in black. He looked like a man of power, a man who had respect among a group of people... a leader.

“Y-you... how do you know my destiny..?” Damien muttered nervously to the man.

This was the start of his true destiny.

[Slade Xandir]

"Because it is not one of walking with a downed head."

Blood canted his crown to study the man more visually. It was nothing more than a motion, however. He cared less for visuals, as he was a man of more practical arts. What someone could offer him, to the Sith. To legacy.

Moving the illustrious gaze back to the nervous, chiseled face, he added, "A wolf does not walk meekly amongst sheep." With that, he gestured to the crowd of massed beings walking through and around them, flowing like an immovable sea of uncaring multicolored waters. Drops of different shades, different sizes, but all with motion together. Completely oblivious they were in the mist of someone who had power to end them all with a swift blink of saber slashing or even Pyromancy.

The Wicked Messiah had no reason to slaughter today, however. Today, he was reaping what he had sown into his own life, taking his time with each stalk he pulled free of the earth, whether it be this soil, or that of another planet. Today, this child would be his next picking, added to a basket begging to be heavier.

"Come with me. Let me show you a life that allows no binds but your own."

With that, the Sith Lord turned, the action catching the cape end in a swish of illusion. And with no words on the rest of the conversation, Blood made his way to his own ship, arriving at the lowering steel ramp just as it touched the polished floor. But deciding against the silence itself, he added, on a final note:

"Or remain with the flock, and become a sheep, yourself."

The young whelp could join him or be left in the dust. He had plenty of time to harvest more souls. If he missed this one today, more could follow. But who knew? This man, if he followed Blood, could be molded into a powerful force of nature.

[Damien Corman]

The man relayed what he thought to Damien. The thought really crossed his mind, was he really a wolf, walking amongst sheep? Damien was for sure a stout young man. Being only 17 you would’ve thought he was in his 20s.

Damien decided to follow, he didn’t know why he chose to do so. At this point he was not headed in a direction, he was looking for a fresh start. He followed the Man closely until they both arrived at a ship.. Damien concluded that the man was no mere civilian. He was important in some way shape or form. The inner thoughts in Damien’s head were racing with conclusions. The man looked wolf like, sinister. But at the same time Damien trusted him. There was no reason to trust him, but Damien did for some reason.

On that day Damien decided that he was not going to become a sheep, he wanted to serve purpose. He didn’t wanna drone around looking like a droid on a daily basis. He had a deep lust to be powerful, and he suspected the man would help guide him to power of some sort. Perhaps he could work his way up a corporate ladder and be important..

As they boarded the ship, Damien sprang a question.

“What is it you see? Do you have a place I can work? And make money?”

[Slade Xandir]

Only after the youth was securely on his Infiltrator, ramp up and air lock door shutting, did Blood choose to answer such questions. He had no need to keep the knowledge incognito as they regained privacy.

"I, nor anyhow else who serves under me, have any need for credits. Work however, is plenty, and is beyond materialistic rewards. As for that work, or deals with harnessing your potential, and making yourself near unstoppable."

Blood then turned to him, his golden eyes gleaming in the burgundy lighting of his ship as it began to take off and leave Corellia.

"As for what is inside of your, it is what everyone has. Midichlorians. However, you have more than most, and this heightens your usefulness behind their's. You have a gift, and that is the ability to wield the Force."

The ship, currently being driven by Valkyr, his Cathar warborg, was being set to arrive at Sojourn. The stars began to whirl around them as they set off past the planets atmosphere, reached space, and entered hyperdrive.

[Damien Corman]

Damiens question was met with silence, something Damien usually gave to questions. But for once in his life he didn't want silence. He wanted to know what he could be. The man met Damien with a hand gesture, pointing up the ramp. He pursued the man up the ramp, and was greeted with a comfortable seat to place himself in. Once he was seated, the man spoke up.

Once the wolf finished speaking, Damien was left in utter shock. The man had just told Damien that he had the force inside of him? The force was rarely spoken of, and when it was, it was merely brushed off as a myth if anything. Damien looked down.. It was clearly obvious that the man was a Sith, any deptiction of Jedi never showed them in all black attire, the man had an aura of evil around him. Damiens mind was swirling, with doubt, with anxiety... As the ship ascended from Corellia, Damien had no choice but to stay.

The ship entered hyperdrive..

"So.. you're telling me that you'll turn me into something... someone powerful..? A sith?"

The thought made Damien tremble with anticipation. He lusted to be powerful, strike any foe down with pure might and tremor. He had grown up fighting for himself, and now that he was much stronger, he could advance and defend the honor of the Sith.. perhaps.. If this man were to take Damien in, he would swear loyalty for life to him. He would fight and pledge his allegience to the Sith Empire. He always spat at the thought of Jedi, no good Jedi.. All of them pledging faith to the Jedi Coallition, it was disgusting to him. A life that was not fit for him. He wanted to deal in absolute power. He was ready to face his destiny..


Damien Corman was ready to take a step into the dark.

[Slade Xandir]

"So.. you're telling me that you'll turn me into something... someone powerful..? A sith?"


Blood chuckled at the stereotypical association with the concept of 'power' and the usual boogymen that followed behind. The real benefit behind it was poised for the both of them, so in fact, Blood agreed with him.

"I plan on it, yes. If all goes accordingly, yes. And if you submit yourself to me entirely, yes."

The golden gaze found itself to the gem that lay right inside of the chest of the man, his Force of Sense slipping through the breastbone to gently look upon the organ which pumped the very lifeforce through the youth. The heart.

"This is no easy pledge. It will require self control, determination, and passion in the arts of becoming that which gods themselves, fear. I will guide you, but ultimately, you will be the one who puts the pieces in play. Your initiative, discipline, and my hand will lead you onto the path that will no longer keep you chained. The Force will free you; and it will be at your command."

Blood turned from the youth who was enjoying his last seconds of being an independent on his seat. The moon wasn't too far from their own position, the brightening rock in the near and seeable distance.

"If you do not make it through these trials, then you will fall victim to what the worthless live on an everyday basis."

Turning back to the handsome teen, Blood finalized it.

"Being useless."

Speaking with the same calm demeanor, the Sith Lord snatched the subject by its collar, needing answers before he deemed this trip a waste of time.

"What say you?"

[Damien Corman]

Something that the gods themselves fear...

That sentence was something in its entirety that wielded
Enough power to not only strike a mans heart with fear, but also with intrigue. The boy had to pledge himself to the wolf in front of him, and in return the wolf would guide him to becoming powerful, the very fact that he had the force inside of him made him wonder... who were his parents? He had grown up mainly in the care of all else but his parents.

Never mind the thoughts, the boy was growing more hungry with greed. He could use this power, to help the wolf, help the Sith, crush his enemies.. it sounded all too promising, all ]too real it was.. Damien could barely comprehend the opportunities. He would have to face challenges and adapt and overcome them. He would have to ascend through himself and rise to the challenges.. he had faced many obstacles his entire life, none of these would be any easier.

”Hey, kid, what do you think you’re doing here?”

A flashback had started to take over.

”I-I’m just passing through, please leave me be..” the boy had muttered to the young man standing in front of him. Damien was only 14 and the young Man was perhaps 16. With swift fullness the young Man threw a punch at Damien. Damien, of course, dodged it and threw back a left hook of his own.. striking the young man upon his cheek. Leaving a welt to be seen by everyone.

“I swear you’re gonna pay for that you little runt!! I swear” -

His thoughts were interrupted by the wolf grabbing ahold of him, and suddenly he found himself face to face with the man. He smelled his breath, and it’s cold sinister sting spoke up.

Damien made a choice. “Yes. I will pledge myself to you, and pledge myself to the Sith.”

Damien didn’t hesitate, and in the future, he wouldn’t hesitate either.

[Slade Xandir]

In his arms he felt what true submission presented itself to be. The youth forsake his independence and forfeit his old, stagnant life for one with nothing but glory and triumph. This teen had made the right choice, and the Sithian felt it all take place just through a single stare into the youth's very being. He needed that, as words held more lies than truths, nowadays.

As the Master Tamer held the boy, quickly in his personal web of Force, he took a thread of his own essence and wove an attachment of himself to the chiseled teen. This bond sealed the deal, connecting the two in a slightly more intimate manner, as it gave the pair a sense of being and allowed the other the insight of where the sting's other attachment lay, how the other felt, and acted as a tether between the two. It was a beacon, so if Blood needed to call upon the teen, he would not have any trouble of doing such.
Or if he had to end the teen's life, he could find the newest Apprentice with ease.

The emotions that took hold of the teen however had a sickening shred of rapacity to them, and it enraptured Blood's attention. Enough of the delicious emotions, and the Sith Lord released his latest charge. And with it, came his agreement to the matter.

"Good. Then today, and forever more, we will see if your will is as iron as your word."

The ship shuddered as it landed, a light tremble on the dock as it was poised outside in the landing bay. They had arrived at his personal retreat, Sojourn, and with it was the pleasure that he had knowing he was going to enjoy this moment of solace. The Hunter's Moon, the moon was once called hundreds of years ago. It was once a place for the lavish and posh to hang their credits to relax. A moon for expensive parties, exquisite refinery and elaborate living. Blood and Slade had their own reasons, but they chose to partner with a few business partners and restore the planet to its old status. It was by no means complete, but compared to the old ruined mess it once was, Blood had gotten it rather far in workmanship.

The handsome hunter felt the airlock release as pressure met equalized pressure. The door opened as the ramp extended onto the metal walkway. The outside air poured in, a rich mix of fresh oxygen and vibrant life. The temperate moon was an eden, vivacious and brimming with life. Vivid greens of grass and dense bush were complimented by various flowers in the meadows that lay before them. It was a lovely shade of heated orange and bleeding ruby as the sun settled into the horizon; dusk was taking hold.

Blood walked down the ramp, expecting his newest Pledge to follow. As he walked, feet stepping onto an elaborate pathed walkway that led to the resort he was having finished, he asked aloud, "What is your name, Acolyte?"