Mercy sat on the outskirts of where she was supposed to be patrolling, simply not in the mood for any of it. She had already walked the hard lands of Korriban, and she was sick of the damn dirt and dust trying to ruin her cargos. She had 6 pairs that were ruined from ash that refused to fade alone, snatching the jet black from several of the thick stitchings. It was easy to clean leather boots, gloves, and a jacket, but so much ash made any other color besides ugly ones look just that- ugly. Slade's, well Lord Blood's dragon kept circling overhead her location, and she couldn't determine whether it was trying to look out for her against the rest of cursed things here, or whether it was trying to see if she was worth coming to eat next.
"I'll make an armor set outta you, better stay your spiky ass in that sky, Fido."
Almost as though it heeded her warning, it sent an intimidating roar above her, but flew elsewhere, near northern land and disappeared.
"Good boy."
Mercy crunched her legs to brace her in the fine silt and dusty decayed land. There was nothing really for her to do. She had trained Lilith in being able to focus her kicks to a near perfect roundhouse, and taught her brother about the difference between stable and unstable levels in kyber crystals. They had retired after the lessons, and their father had instructed both her and Fox not to overwork them, yet.
Thinking of Fox brought a hint of a smile to her face, but it faded just as quick as it came. It's not like anyone could see it; her hair hid everything behind a dark brunette curtain. Fox, idiot member of their group who was more bronze and brash strength than brains had admitted to Mercy he wanted to look after her like a little sister. He cared for her, and Mercy wasn't sure how to take that. She was so used to rolling alone, anyone showing any kind of attention to her was seen as harassment to her freedom, and was instantly rebuked with harsh words or an even harsher display of 'don't even think about it'.
But another who ran across her mind, or atleast tried to, was unwanted. And she made it that way. She knew what she had for him was something that wasn't meant to be, and when Slade told her to "leave him" that day, she grew grateful for that order. She didn't think she would have the strength not to run away with him, if he ever came back, and who was to say he wouldn't disappear on her, again?
And the final one, the final thought that skimmed across her mind was another face, one she kept trying to shove in the back of her head before she started shooting fireballs at the sky. That damn, no good deserter. Frakking- ugh.
She stood and tried to calm herself, tried to let go of that quick-to-burn attitude of hers, but her fire wasn't so quick to burn out as quick as it was to catch. She felt her temperature rising, already being provoked by the energies of the Dark Side, and being kindled by just the mental illustration of his face the day he took off that helmetin that meeting. Had Blood told them they were meeting him there, that sunny boy, Dastan was gonna be heading the frakking meeting, she would've just stayed at home.
Because screw that guy.
Mercy began pacing, swirls of ash kicking up and around her like her own mini tornadoes. It was a hellish brew in her head, but as much as she tired, it just wouldn't simmer, settle, or blow out.
"ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
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Slade Xandir
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"ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."
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Dastan Imatari
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- Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 2:41 pm
Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
Korriban. The planet that the Sith seemed to magnetize to. It wasn't just dogma, and old useless tradition that drew them. It was also sheer power in the force. The planet held a deep connection to it, and any force sensitive would feel it the second their boots touched ground. So much history for the order lie in old temples, tombs, libraries, academies. Now it was more of a dead waste than it ever was.
It was only a few times that Dastan ever paid visit to korriban. Ever since the Imperial navy attempted to turn it into an asteroid field, most quit paying attention to it. It was only the Sith sphere of production and logistics that suited up to reclaim it after the bombardment years ago. Cleaning up the atmosphere a bit and attempting to make sense of the new topography and ruins.
Really though, it was the same as it ever was: A desert planet scattered with ruins. . . Now some of those ruins weren't so ancient.
Trudging through rust colored sand toward a structure, Dastan spotted something swirling above. Blatant it was here, as no life took to the skies. It was a large black silhouette, gliding like a kite before flapping its powerful wing a few times. It couldn't be coming for him, could it?
Oh he hoped not. Last time he encountered a dragon, it didn't end well for either of them. For now he noted it's location, and continued toward a peculiar tower rising up from a rocky hill, emerging from the sand. A mixture of shiny metal, and old korriban sandstone construction. Probably used go be a Spire for an old academy. Now it stood alone among ruin- broken, crawling up from rock and sand.
He got a strange feeling as he continued on. Though that didn't mean much on this planet. Maybe it was that Dragon creature. Maybe it was feeling the residue of the force energies the ruin before him gave off. Or maybe it was his irritation in deciding to go on foot.
His gaitered, worn black boots sank in the sand each step of the way. His cowl fluttered behind him, wind against him, thankful for his helmet in keeping the sand from stinging his face. His clothes, heavy, worn, utilitarian. Something of a mix between a military fatigue and traditional sith robes. Kept him from most of the discomfort. His breastplate, greaves, and bracers seemed useless here- but korriban was an unpredictable place.
*”Master, you have a message from lieutennant Rowen. You will want to read this.”* a familiar upbeat male droid voice popped into his ear. A semi welcome distraction from the lonely sounds of wind blowing sands about.
*”I’ll read it when I get back to the Merciless, RX.”*
*”I could send it to your HUD, Master. Just say the word.”*
“No. If it's Rowen, it's something that will require my full attention. I won't be able to give that right now.” He stopped again for a moment, hearing the far away howl of the airborne beast.
This wasn't natural for Korriban. Someone else was here. Continuing on toward the broken tower, he sent out a wave in the force, searching for other life...
It was only a few times that Dastan ever paid visit to korriban. Ever since the Imperial navy attempted to turn it into an asteroid field, most quit paying attention to it. It was only the Sith sphere of production and logistics that suited up to reclaim it after the bombardment years ago. Cleaning up the atmosphere a bit and attempting to make sense of the new topography and ruins.
Really though, it was the same as it ever was: A desert planet scattered with ruins. . . Now some of those ruins weren't so ancient.
Trudging through rust colored sand toward a structure, Dastan spotted something swirling above. Blatant it was here, as no life took to the skies. It was a large black silhouette, gliding like a kite before flapping its powerful wing a few times. It couldn't be coming for him, could it?
Oh he hoped not. Last time he encountered a dragon, it didn't end well for either of them. For now he noted it's location, and continued toward a peculiar tower rising up from a rocky hill, emerging from the sand. A mixture of shiny metal, and old korriban sandstone construction. Probably used go be a Spire for an old academy. Now it stood alone among ruin- broken, crawling up from rock and sand.
He got a strange feeling as he continued on. Though that didn't mean much on this planet. Maybe it was that Dragon creature. Maybe it was feeling the residue of the force energies the ruin before him gave off. Or maybe it was his irritation in deciding to go on foot.
His gaitered, worn black boots sank in the sand each step of the way. His cowl fluttered behind him, wind against him, thankful for his helmet in keeping the sand from stinging his face. His clothes, heavy, worn, utilitarian. Something of a mix between a military fatigue and traditional sith robes. Kept him from most of the discomfort. His breastplate, greaves, and bracers seemed useless here- but korriban was an unpredictable place.
*”Master, you have a message from lieutennant Rowen. You will want to read this.”* a familiar upbeat male droid voice popped into his ear. A semi welcome distraction from the lonely sounds of wind blowing sands about.
*”I’ll read it when I get back to the Merciless, RX.”*
*”I could send it to your HUD, Master. Just say the word.”*
“No. If it's Rowen, it's something that will require my full attention. I won't be able to give that right now.” He stopped again for a moment, hearing the far away howl of the airborne beast.
This wasn't natural for Korriban. Someone else was here. Continuing on toward the broken tower, he sent out a wave in the force, searching for other life...
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Slade Xandir
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
She sure as hell didn't want to stay on the planet any longer than necessary, but she was to remain until Slade returned with Fox and the Cathar droid thing he had; something about them needing to quell a riot on a slave planet who's name she didn't bother to remember. Immediately she almost bombarded him with "How come I can't go?" but Blood, Lord of Pricked Pricks gave her the look of 'Don't ask questions right now'. That was the only way she ended up on this garbage planet with nothing to do but be pissed at everything. She felt like getting her frustration out, but Mercy figured if it dealt with them solving their riots with words, they could just keep it. That's probably why it was it. Hence why Blood told her to stay. Hm.
Well, that was one tick off a million for her list of 'Kill it all'.
'Fury' as Fox nicknamed her couldn't be mad at Blood for his decisions, let alone why he made them. His judgemnt had been sound as of late. Hell, if it wasn't, surely no chick would trusted him to make kids with her, right? She never asked how old he was, but his bit of patience that he had reserved indicated he had to atleast have some kind of 'old man' in him. Looking like he was in his 20's, but acting like someone wiser than a teen outta college? Mercy didn't ask that many questions, but she figured if it was rude to ask a girl her age, wasn't it just a rude-
What was that?
Through her mental rambling, she felt something roll over her. Nothing like a casually annoying ash-caked breeze here, no. No gust of air from a stupid dragon, either. But something more....not there but there. Like how she felt when passing through scanners, or metal detectors. With her being properly trained in the Force now, she could feel the waves of energy that passed over her, could sense the second it touched her to the second it was off her. Blood had them trained to a T, never wasting a moment to keep them updated on either knowledge from books, combat, or Force. And as Fox was derpier than her, he would have sensed it just as well as she did.
Well, unless the idiot 'brother' of hers was eating or flirting with another girl.
Narrowed hazels scanned through the wastelands, but seeing nothing, she decided to keep to her favorite strategy: Gaining ground. With that, the Sithette took off for the ruined tower of rocks that reminded her of the castle on Arkania, and leapt upon the first heap. Then to the second, Force pumping through her svelte body as she launched herself up another few feet and landed almost catlike on the mound. She didn't study the structure she crouched on, but then again it wasn't the tower that pulsed that wave. Something else did. Searching, and hopefully, not for her.
Mercy then took the energy crossbow from her back and slung it around to her front. Unwrapping herself from the strap, she snapped it to her face, and peered a curious hazel through the scope.
It was a wave that came from the south, so from the compass attached, she directed her view in that direction. And stared. Nothing?
Nothing.
But unless it was a probe bot, which released a different kind of energy wave, let alone frequency- a possibility she just fully cut out upon deciphering the two waves differences, it had to be a person. Someone using the Force. It wasn't Blood, as he had an aura both she and Fox immediately recognized, considering when you train under someone for so long, you tend to learn their 'Force scent' as Blood had put it, quite well. You could feel them further and further away, more immediately than most who never come across them. That's how she knew this wasn't he, nor Fox.
So who was it?
Through the scope, she stared harder, almost as if willing, no daring someone to step out from the desolate lands she just sat her dusty tail down on. And as if they obliged, a shape began to emerge from the dunes and hard grounds, a humanoid figure.
She swiveled and thrust herself against the pillar, just high enough to hide her head, down, and wide enough to give collar to collarbone cover.
Frak. If it were the guards of that snob she ended up killing with Makaro, some kinda bountyman or something, the last thing she felt lie doing was being found. She left Nar Shaada with hopes of not being found.
"Don't be that guy," she growled to no one in particular other than that guy. Who was walking directly in her general direction.
To be as little noticed as possible, she simply did not move.
Well, that was one tick off a million for her list of 'Kill it all'.
'Fury' as Fox nicknamed her couldn't be mad at Blood for his decisions, let alone why he made them. His judgemnt had been sound as of late. Hell, if it wasn't, surely no chick would trusted him to make kids with her, right? She never asked how old he was, but his bit of patience that he had reserved indicated he had to atleast have some kind of 'old man' in him. Looking like he was in his 20's, but acting like someone wiser than a teen outta college? Mercy didn't ask that many questions, but she figured if it was rude to ask a girl her age, wasn't it just a rude-
What was that?
Through her mental rambling, she felt something roll over her. Nothing like a casually annoying ash-caked breeze here, no. No gust of air from a stupid dragon, either. But something more....not there but there. Like how she felt when passing through scanners, or metal detectors. With her being properly trained in the Force now, she could feel the waves of energy that passed over her, could sense the second it touched her to the second it was off her. Blood had them trained to a T, never wasting a moment to keep them updated on either knowledge from books, combat, or Force. And as Fox was derpier than her, he would have sensed it just as well as she did.
Well, unless the idiot 'brother' of hers was eating or flirting with another girl.
Narrowed hazels scanned through the wastelands, but seeing nothing, she decided to keep to her favorite strategy: Gaining ground. With that, the Sithette took off for the ruined tower of rocks that reminded her of the castle on Arkania, and leapt upon the first heap. Then to the second, Force pumping through her svelte body as she launched herself up another few feet and landed almost catlike on the mound. She didn't study the structure she crouched on, but then again it wasn't the tower that pulsed that wave. Something else did. Searching, and hopefully, not for her.
Mercy then took the energy crossbow from her back and slung it around to her front. Unwrapping herself from the strap, she snapped it to her face, and peered a curious hazel through the scope.
It was a wave that came from the south, so from the compass attached, she directed her view in that direction. And stared. Nothing?
Nothing.
But unless it was a probe bot, which released a different kind of energy wave, let alone frequency- a possibility she just fully cut out upon deciphering the two waves differences, it had to be a person. Someone using the Force. It wasn't Blood, as he had an aura both she and Fox immediately recognized, considering when you train under someone for so long, you tend to learn their 'Force scent' as Blood had put it, quite well. You could feel them further and further away, more immediately than most who never come across them. That's how she knew this wasn't he, nor Fox.
So who was it?
Through the scope, she stared harder, almost as if willing, no daring someone to step out from the desolate lands she just sat her dusty tail down on. And as if they obliged, a shape began to emerge from the dunes and hard grounds, a humanoid figure.
She swiveled and thrust herself against the pillar, just high enough to hide her head, down, and wide enough to give collar to collarbone cover.
Frak. If it were the guards of that snob she ended up killing with Makaro, some kinda bountyman or something, the last thing she felt lie doing was being found. She left Nar Shaada with hopes of not being found.
"Don't be that guy," she growled to no one in particular other than that guy. Who was walking directly in her general direction.
To be as little noticed as possible, she simply did not move.
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."
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Dastan Imatari
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- Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 2:41 pm
Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
He did feel some life. Though it was closer to the tower- still a ways off. It wasn't a big 'ping' he received back, so it wasn't another Dragon. Maybe the beast's tamer- or something the beast was hunting... Though admittedly he knew little about the planet itself, he did know that there wasn't much wildlife here crawling the surface.
He didn't like knowing that someone else may be in the vicinity, and he couldn't see them. Though he was a Lord of the Sith Empire- there were few things he feared now. His pace quickened, marching quickly with larger steps through the sand. His gait a menacing one.
Kriffing sand everywhere. Why, oh why, couldn't the sith take on a world like Chandrila, or, I don't know, Spira?
The wind quit assaulting him, freeing up his helmet's visor a bit more for better line of sight on his surroundings. A single quick glint-
? Dastan stopped in his tracks, and tilted his head. He thought he saw something- but couldn't quite be sure. The broken up tower had metal bars, and shiny bits still, maybe the sun caught that while he was walking- and his peripherals? Or maybe it was someone waiting to fire a high power blaster rifle at his head. He waited a moment, unable to see anything. He pulsed out with the force again to sense force sensitive life around him, and continued his trek- stepping off once again down a final dune before the ground begun a slow incline toward the base of the tower's rubble-strewn base.
Paranoia pays off... He felt it. Up at the tower, someone was indeed watching him. People are always called paranoid until they're right. That was one of the things Dastan was plagued with- the curse of his hunches usually being right. A curse, because he was often a pessimist.
In that moment, he wouldn't let the individual at the top of the spire know. Though if they were force sensitive- they may have already figured it out. His body continued forward, and his mind sunk into the force, creating something of a bubble around him. A bubble of heightened awareness. Just in case someone wanted to play marksman, or dump a heavy rock on him, or leap at him from beneath the sands, (yes- that's happened to him before).
The tower was rather large. Even from a distance it looked big- but up in person- impressive. It's construction had to have taken fire in the orbital bombardment, but it's base, and at least up to mid-height it stayed standing defiant. Dastan stopped, and looked up, dwarfed by the massive structure.
I'll see what awaits above...
"Come on down." His fractured, digitized voice was loud, but not a shout. An invitation. He hadn't time to get angry and blast off right now.
His reason for being on the planet headed this way- simple. He wanted to go back to a secluded spot- and commune with the dark side. There had been a lot that has happened recently, and he needed to put his internal turmoil to bed. The darkness wasn't clear sometimes, but it always seemed to direct him toward his goals- in one way or another. Taking the harder path- a path generally fraught with solitude.
He didn't like knowing that someone else may be in the vicinity, and he couldn't see them. Though he was a Lord of the Sith Empire- there were few things he feared now. His pace quickened, marching quickly with larger steps through the sand. His gait a menacing one.
Kriffing sand everywhere. Why, oh why, couldn't the sith take on a world like Chandrila, or, I don't know, Spira?
The wind quit assaulting him, freeing up his helmet's visor a bit more for better line of sight on his surroundings. A single quick glint-
? Dastan stopped in his tracks, and tilted his head. He thought he saw something- but couldn't quite be sure. The broken up tower had metal bars, and shiny bits still, maybe the sun caught that while he was walking- and his peripherals? Or maybe it was someone waiting to fire a high power blaster rifle at his head. He waited a moment, unable to see anything. He pulsed out with the force again to sense force sensitive life around him, and continued his trek- stepping off once again down a final dune before the ground begun a slow incline toward the base of the tower's rubble-strewn base.
Paranoia pays off... He felt it. Up at the tower, someone was indeed watching him. People are always called paranoid until they're right. That was one of the things Dastan was plagued with- the curse of his hunches usually being right. A curse, because he was often a pessimist.
In that moment, he wouldn't let the individual at the top of the spire know. Though if they were force sensitive- they may have already figured it out. His body continued forward, and his mind sunk into the force, creating something of a bubble around him. A bubble of heightened awareness. Just in case someone wanted to play marksman, or dump a heavy rock on him, or leap at him from beneath the sands, (yes- that's happened to him before).
The tower was rather large. Even from a distance it looked big- but up in person- impressive. It's construction had to have taken fire in the orbital bombardment, but it's base, and at least up to mid-height it stayed standing defiant. Dastan stopped, and looked up, dwarfed by the massive structure.
I'll see what awaits above...
"Come on down." His fractured, digitized voice was loud, but not a shout. An invitation. He hadn't time to get angry and blast off right now.
His reason for being on the planet headed this way- simple. He wanted to go back to a secluded spot- and commune with the dark side. There had been a lot that has happened recently, and he needed to put his internal turmoil to bed. The darkness wasn't clear sometimes, but it always seemed to direct him toward his goals- in one way or another. Taking the harder path- a path generally fraught with solitude.
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Slade Xandir
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- Location: Right behind you.
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
The flash of sand caught her in the eye, and a leather jacket covered arm rushed to rub the hard particulates away, but only added to the scraping pain she was dealing with. Frak. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Mercy was mentally cursing herself out for thinking she could rub sand away with an equally sand-covered sleeve. While she was snatching half of her face away with tanned hide, she felt a presence bringing itself closer to her location. Ugh, and that in itself hinted she had been found out.
A glare of hazels shot straight towards the opposite mound of rock and bent steel a few feet in front of her like it was the being that was following her, a blazing glare that would have set the bunch of boulders on fire if she was that good in the Force. Frakking frak. And of course she trapped herself in the middle of this wasteland on top of a tower, in the most uninhabited section of a frakking-
"Come on down."
-place where the people that hunted you down actually invited you down. No one in their right minds came down to a 'nice' voice on the planet where the Sith Emperor called his 'base', while they both had a bounty on their heads and were being circled overhead by a kriffing dragon.
"Yea, no thanks. Much more comfortable away from you." She barked out from the tops of the tower. Damn bounty hunters getting their winnings off of being 'nice' to the people they pursued. Mercy didn't even know if it was a bounty hunter or a worker of Blood's trying to tell her they landed. The best part about it, though? She didn't care. It wasn't like she could recognize their voice considering it sounded choppy, inhuman. More than likely a helmet with a vocalizer was atop their empty brained skull, hiding their identity. Definitely gotta be either a bounty hunter, or someone who just didn't wanna be known. And anyone who didn't wanna be known that actively sought an Apprentice of a frakking Sith Lord out, was up to no good.
So screw that guy. She was staying put.
A glare of hazels shot straight towards the opposite mound of rock and bent steel a few feet in front of her like it was the being that was following her, a blazing glare that would have set the bunch of boulders on fire if she was that good in the Force. Frakking frak. And of course she trapped herself in the middle of this wasteland on top of a tower, in the most uninhabited section of a frakking-
"Come on down."
-place where the people that hunted you down actually invited you down. No one in their right minds came down to a 'nice' voice on the planet where the Sith Emperor called his 'base', while they both had a bounty on their heads and were being circled overhead by a kriffing dragon.
"Yea, no thanks. Much more comfortable away from you." She barked out from the tops of the tower. Damn bounty hunters getting their winnings off of being 'nice' to the people they pursued. Mercy didn't even know if it was a bounty hunter or a worker of Blood's trying to tell her they landed. The best part about it, though? She didn't care. It wasn't like she could recognize their voice considering it sounded choppy, inhuman. More than likely a helmet with a vocalizer was atop their empty brained skull, hiding their identity. Definitely gotta be either a bounty hunter, or someone who just didn't wanna be known. And anyone who didn't wanna be known that actively sought an Apprentice of a frakking Sith Lord out, was up to no good.
So screw that guy. She was staying put.
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."
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Dastan Imatari
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
The voice was small. Feminine. Angry.
Was she hunting him down? If she was, she didn't do a very good job of it, being that he hadn't received any blaster fire, or anything. No. She wasn't a rival Sith's operative looking for his head. Nor a bounty hunter from the guild looking for large chunks of credits for the alleged murder of the royal family on an outer-rim planet... Gala, was it? Wow- actually, it had been a lot longer ago than he remembered when that happened.
Regardless, the voice didn't sound cooperative. He raised his voice to allow the female to hear him-
"If you're hunting me, and That's your bea-," he gestured up where the dragon was last seen floating about, "Ah, you know what?" he snapped to himself before speaking up again- "Nevermind. I'm in no mood. Just leave now- Nobody is paying you near well enough to be on Korriban, or hunting me down."
He felt the heat rise up his spine, as he often did. His stance widened, and his shoulders squared. A wave of heat seemed to escape his body when his little force bubble of influence picked up that she was force sensitive. His brash introduction of sorts seemed silly now, had he just waited a moment and felt the situation out.
Was she a Sith? She didn't seem eager to clash with him at first. Not very characteristic of a typical Sith Warrior-
"wait a minute-" the words escaped his lips quietly as he looked up to the tower a little closer. He couldn't rightly see the figure exactly, as she was remaining hidden. It's like she was hiding from 'him'. Really? Was she an Exile?
"I can sense the force within you..." he spoke loudly- a bit of a taunt- "Who are you?" standing straight, a short gust of wind picked up his cowl again, fluttering it against his back.
His left arm cocked back, and his hand brushed the d-clip on his lightsaber. Just to get that sense of security it brought- especially in moments like this, where he found himself in a strange, unpredictable situation. Normally he'd draw his blade first and ask questions later. Though recent events made him stay his hand a moment. A sickening weakness...
Was she hunting him down? If she was, she didn't do a very good job of it, being that he hadn't received any blaster fire, or anything. No. She wasn't a rival Sith's operative looking for his head. Nor a bounty hunter from the guild looking for large chunks of credits for the alleged murder of the royal family on an outer-rim planet... Gala, was it? Wow- actually, it had been a lot longer ago than he remembered when that happened.
Regardless, the voice didn't sound cooperative. He raised his voice to allow the female to hear him-
"If you're hunting me, and That's your bea-," he gestured up where the dragon was last seen floating about, "Ah, you know what?" he snapped to himself before speaking up again- "Nevermind. I'm in no mood. Just leave now- Nobody is paying you near well enough to be on Korriban, or hunting me down."
He felt the heat rise up his spine, as he often did. His stance widened, and his shoulders squared. A wave of heat seemed to escape his body when his little force bubble of influence picked up that she was force sensitive. His brash introduction of sorts seemed silly now, had he just waited a moment and felt the situation out.
Was she a Sith? She didn't seem eager to clash with him at first. Not very characteristic of a typical Sith Warrior-
"wait a minute-" the words escaped his lips quietly as he looked up to the tower a little closer. He couldn't rightly see the figure exactly, as she was remaining hidden. It's like she was hiding from 'him'. Really? Was she an Exile?
"I can sense the force within you..." he spoke loudly- a bit of a taunt- "Who are you?" standing straight, a short gust of wind picked up his cowl again, fluttering it against his back.
His left arm cocked back, and his hand brushed the d-clip on his lightsaber. Just to get that sense of security it brought- especially in moments like this, where he found himself in a strange, unpredictable situation. Normally he'd draw his blade first and ask questions later. Though recent events made him stay his hand a moment. A sickening weakness...
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Slade Xandir
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- Location: Right behind you.
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
Oh hell no. No one just told her to get off of a planet, then call themselves taking head of the situation to demand her identity.
Just as she finished staring death holes into the sorry brackle of destroyed tower column, she felt the very same concentrated heat leave the nest it had made in her head, and travel directly to her heart, only to disperse and fill every orifice of her slim body. Whatever proper and polite morals she might have had (or called herself having, seeing as she didn't immediately rip their heads from their shoulders. They couldn't be that much of a challenge, and with her indignant fury, she completely overlooked them also claiming to have a bounty on their own heads.
"Okay, first off, you daft degenerate, you don't own me, so you don't tell me. Second off, you high horse twat, I don't care what you can sense, who I am-"
Standing and swiveling to meet her unwanted company, Mercy was a sight, epitome even, for wrath. Long dark waves illustrated the wind-speeds in a dramatic display as her hair followed the same dance the villain below her had. Hazels were alive in unbridled irritation, and whether it be irrational or not, it was provoked and vivacious, almost burning a emberous glow through the brunette vipers of lashing tresses. Arms were held straight and parallel to her curvaceous sides, fists balled, gloved pieces of her ready to become bloody. Legs were lightly spread, just more than enough to brace her against the relentless wind, but also an illustration that she was more than ready to come down and pounce on whoever this dude thought he was.
But her eyes locked on her prey, soft pink tongue charged and already firing off the last of the sentence. Those words were out the door, just as her mind made the connection once her gaze ran the familiar image over a disbelieving brain.
"-is none of your damn business..."
What the hell! Out of all people, the last person she wanted to interact with was standing at the foot of the tower she was calling herself seeking refuge in. Her thoughts ran rampant from her last touch on this man, him briefing her on a mission, him and his little blonde bed buddy scooting off to be in the forest alone while they expected her to track down some source of Force Nexus on a planet who's name she couldn't even pronounce. Only for her to be darted and drugged, then left on Nar Shaada to fend for herself. Alone, in a dank and rank alley with predators both 2 legged and 4 gleaming hungry fangs and fingers at her in the city lights...
It was Makaro that got her out of that hell hole. Makaro, and her temper. She may be without one, but she was damn sure not without the other.
Her stance had relaxed a bit from her mental walk down memory lane, buut upon returning to reality, Mercy's form returned to it's rigid state. And just like the most well aimed stab of a saber though a sternum, her tongue spat nothing but venom.
"You...I wish you never knew who I was, just so I could have gotten away with saying that to you."
Just as she finished staring death holes into the sorry brackle of destroyed tower column, she felt the very same concentrated heat leave the nest it had made in her head, and travel directly to her heart, only to disperse and fill every orifice of her slim body. Whatever proper and polite morals she might have had (or called herself having, seeing as she didn't immediately rip their heads from their shoulders. They couldn't be that much of a challenge, and with her indignant fury, she completely overlooked them also claiming to have a bounty on their own heads.
"Okay, first off, you daft degenerate, you don't own me, so you don't tell me. Second off, you high horse twat, I don't care what you can sense, who I am-"
Standing and swiveling to meet her unwanted company, Mercy was a sight, epitome even, for wrath. Long dark waves illustrated the wind-speeds in a dramatic display as her hair followed the same dance the villain below her had. Hazels were alive in unbridled irritation, and whether it be irrational or not, it was provoked and vivacious, almost burning a emberous glow through the brunette vipers of lashing tresses. Arms were held straight and parallel to her curvaceous sides, fists balled, gloved pieces of her ready to become bloody. Legs were lightly spread, just more than enough to brace her against the relentless wind, but also an illustration that she was more than ready to come down and pounce on whoever this dude thought he was.
But her eyes locked on her prey, soft pink tongue charged and already firing off the last of the sentence. Those words were out the door, just as her mind made the connection once her gaze ran the familiar image over a disbelieving brain.
"-is none of your damn business..."
What the hell! Out of all people, the last person she wanted to interact with was standing at the foot of the tower she was calling herself seeking refuge in. Her thoughts ran rampant from her last touch on this man, him briefing her on a mission, him and his little blonde bed buddy scooting off to be in the forest alone while they expected her to track down some source of Force Nexus on a planet who's name she couldn't even pronounce. Only for her to be darted and drugged, then left on Nar Shaada to fend for herself. Alone, in a dank and rank alley with predators both 2 legged and 4 gleaming hungry fangs and fingers at her in the city lights...
It was Makaro that got her out of that hell hole. Makaro, and her temper. She may be without one, but she was damn sure not without the other.
Her stance had relaxed a bit from her mental walk down memory lane, buut upon returning to reality, Mercy's form returned to it's rigid state. And just like the most well aimed stab of a saber though a sternum, her tongue spat nothing but venom.
"You...I wish you never knew who I was, just so I could have gotten away with saying that to you."
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."
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Dastan Imatari
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
He had to hold in an exasperated chuckle, "Who you are is exactly my business on a planet in my territory." He growled back.
Though it didn't hit him until after he said that- his eyesight clearing up from the periodic upheaval of dusty sand from the cyclic wind gusts.
"Oh- ho- ho." he shook his head. "Really?" he muttered half under his breath as an aside to himself. "You may want to come down on your own accord-" His speech pouring through his teeth, as his jaw clenched before speaking.
He raised a hand and reached out with the force, gripping toward the top of the tower, applying at first a sturdy shake. A warning. A low rumble would be heard, and a thin layer of dust and sand would unsettle, vibrating off the ledges- hissing quietly.
"Last you saw me- you had a bone to pick with me. Your keeper is nowhere to be seen, and you have nothing to stop you now, girl." He wouldn't use her name. Not now. He was prodding her. The Sith have a penchant for egotism, and most are pretty half and half when it comes to insulting their pride, however slight. Some see looking over insults as a strength, others see 'not' meeting them head on as a weakness. He'd see how Mercy would deal with this.
Mercy. Another of his apprentices that got away. Not all are made to be Sith, and Dastan's idea of a kratocracy beneath the order was unwavering. The strong return at all costs. The weak fail. Obviously the younger members of the order who are still learning require some guidance, but in Dastan's eyes- only the strongest are worthy despite circumstance.
He would give her a chance to blow steam. Attack him. Howl and bark at him if she liked. He awaited, lips pursed behind his helm's facemask. Teeth clenched, eyes sharp.
Though it didn't hit him until after he said that- his eyesight clearing up from the periodic upheaval of dusty sand from the cyclic wind gusts.
"Oh- ho- ho." he shook his head. "Really?" he muttered half under his breath as an aside to himself. "You may want to come down on your own accord-" His speech pouring through his teeth, as his jaw clenched before speaking.
He raised a hand and reached out with the force, gripping toward the top of the tower, applying at first a sturdy shake. A warning. A low rumble would be heard, and a thin layer of dust and sand would unsettle, vibrating off the ledges- hissing quietly.
"Last you saw me- you had a bone to pick with me. Your keeper is nowhere to be seen, and you have nothing to stop you now, girl." He wouldn't use her name. Not now. He was prodding her. The Sith have a penchant for egotism, and most are pretty half and half when it comes to insulting their pride, however slight. Some see looking over insults as a strength, others see 'not' meeting them head on as a weakness. He'd see how Mercy would deal with this.
Mercy. Another of his apprentices that got away. Not all are made to be Sith, and Dastan's idea of a kratocracy beneath the order was unwavering. The strong return at all costs. The weak fail. Obviously the younger members of the order who are still learning require some guidance, but in Dastan's eyes- only the strongest are worthy despite circumstance.
He would give her a chance to blow steam. Attack him. Howl and bark at him if she liked. He awaited, lips pursed behind his helm's facemask. Teeth clenched, eyes sharp.
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Slade Xandir
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
Just as he appeared, Dastan proved to be an ass and a half. Frakking dude tried to send her under a mountain of rubble and metal. Well guess what, buddy,
"You go ahead and bury my ass, and both Blood, Fox and Fido up there are gonna rip into your ass. So be my guest, buster."
A threat to match. And it helped her case that the dragon had returned overhead, apparently sensing turmoil and bad blood was about to be spilled. Another meal being ready for microwaving, just for him. But Mercy just hoped he remembered her from when Blood was giving her riding lessons on him. Dragons were smart, right? Of course the giant lizard remembered her. But the main question was - was it on her side?
Or would it just eat her, and go on its merry way?
Her balance was uninterrupted, her connection with the core of her equilibrium too feline for faults. Well, that was unless he flipped the whole tower upside down, and as little as she wanted to take chances, she doubted his power to flip buildings.
"And you're damn right, my 'Keeper' ain't here. So he ain't here to tell me how to wait on skinning your sorry, bantha thick hide, either."
Her eyes narrowed from the skull of the broken tower at the man she loathed more than that dead Preshi guy. More than anyone and everything.
"But his lessons don't fall on a ditzy blonde, neither. I know what patience and control are now, so don't think you have anything over me, Dastan." She cut his name into mincemeat, threw it in a hellish it, just to smell it burn.
"It's not just your land, nor your territory. It's all of ours, since we all worked our asses off to snatch it from that bastards against Tormentous. So hop off that little pedestal you put yourself on before someone kicks it out from under you."
And much like the smartass that she was, she added with a little cheeky grin,
"Come down on your own accord."
"You go ahead and bury my ass, and both Blood, Fox and Fido up there are gonna rip into your ass. So be my guest, buster."
A threat to match. And it helped her case that the dragon had returned overhead, apparently sensing turmoil and bad blood was about to be spilled. Another meal being ready for microwaving, just for him. But Mercy just hoped he remembered her from when Blood was giving her riding lessons on him. Dragons were smart, right? Of course the giant lizard remembered her. But the main question was - was it on her side?
Or would it just eat her, and go on its merry way?
Her balance was uninterrupted, her connection with the core of her equilibrium too feline for faults. Well, that was unless he flipped the whole tower upside down, and as little as she wanted to take chances, she doubted his power to flip buildings.
"And you're damn right, my 'Keeper' ain't here. So he ain't here to tell me how to wait on skinning your sorry, bantha thick hide, either."
Her eyes narrowed from the skull of the broken tower at the man she loathed more than that dead Preshi guy. More than anyone and everything.
"But his lessons don't fall on a ditzy blonde, neither. I know what patience and control are now, so don't think you have anything over me, Dastan." She cut his name into mincemeat, threw it in a hellish it, just to smell it burn.
"It's not just your land, nor your territory. It's all of ours, since we all worked our asses off to snatch it from that bastards against Tormentous. So hop off that little pedestal you put yourself on before someone kicks it out from under you."
And much like the smartass that she was, she added with a little cheeky grin,
"Come down on your own accord."
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."
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Dastan Imatari
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Re: "ѕσмє тнιиgѕ αяє мєαит тσ вє вяσкєи." [Dastan]
Truth be told he held no animosity. . . Dastan tilted his head slowly.
-and snapped the enormous tower in half- or at least- in half again.
While she was talking, Dastan was manipulating the force around a weak spot, and gathering power. Welling it up around a thin, crumbling part of the spire, he then used his telekinetic ability to basically shatter that portion. It would break, and the top portion of the tower would fall straight down, crumbling slightly as its bottom collided with more sturdy construction, then likely slowly toppling over.
"Sith Lords, acolytes, dragons... " he muttered. "All dust."
Threats of Sith lords and acolytes- and Dragons. He would instantly call that bluff to set Mercy straight as to what the pecking order looked like.
He had killed Sith councilmen, masters, knights, and acolytes. Even a massive dragon created and grown, strengthened with Dark Force sorcery. No, he didn't enjoy killing the massive dragon on SuSevFi... he never tried dominating its mind- but holding its massive body down while he drove his babbling blazing red blade into its skull was a feat he would never forget. Probably never sleep the same because of it, either. Something else to add to the pile.
Dastan liked Mercy, but he wouldn't allow her to second guess him. Nor put him beneath her current Master. Lord Blood, an excellent Sith in his own right... He had nothing against the man- but he would not be compared, or even dare to be threatened by another.
Dastan feared none in the Sith anymore. Not after all he had to do to reach his current station. Planning operations. Running the justice and law department. Tracking down rogue Sith. Wading into combat. Killing masses by hand, blade, and blaster. Slaying beasts. Dogfights, lightsaber battles, and staving off his own mental anguish. Couple with Anger, hate, suffering by the freighter load, and time spent alone in the darkness allowed 'fear' to be one emotion he would dispose of. At least the kind of fear that took hold, and made you hesitate, become paranoid, turn your face from death, and regret your actions.
Speaking of regret-
With his connection to Mercy, he would monitor her through the force as the tower collapsed into itself and toppled over. She had been trained, and he would see if it was well enough to handle something straight forward like this. He hoped so.
He had a soft spot for her, but he had a strange way of showing it. Maybe he truly was losing what it meant to be human.
-and snapped the enormous tower in half- or at least- in half again.
While she was talking, Dastan was manipulating the force around a weak spot, and gathering power. Welling it up around a thin, crumbling part of the spire, he then used his telekinetic ability to basically shatter that portion. It would break, and the top portion of the tower would fall straight down, crumbling slightly as its bottom collided with more sturdy construction, then likely slowly toppling over.
"Sith Lords, acolytes, dragons... " he muttered. "All dust."
Threats of Sith lords and acolytes- and Dragons. He would instantly call that bluff to set Mercy straight as to what the pecking order looked like.
He had killed Sith councilmen, masters, knights, and acolytes. Even a massive dragon created and grown, strengthened with Dark Force sorcery. No, he didn't enjoy killing the massive dragon on SuSevFi... he never tried dominating its mind- but holding its massive body down while he drove his babbling blazing red blade into its skull was a feat he would never forget. Probably never sleep the same because of it, either. Something else to add to the pile.
Dastan liked Mercy, but he wouldn't allow her to second guess him. Nor put him beneath her current Master. Lord Blood, an excellent Sith in his own right... He had nothing against the man- but he would not be compared, or even dare to be threatened by another.
Dastan feared none in the Sith anymore. Not after all he had to do to reach his current station. Planning operations. Running the justice and law department. Tracking down rogue Sith. Wading into combat. Killing masses by hand, blade, and blaster. Slaying beasts. Dogfights, lightsaber battles, and staving off his own mental anguish. Couple with Anger, hate, suffering by the freighter load, and time spent alone in the darkness allowed 'fear' to be one emotion he would dispose of. At least the kind of fear that took hold, and made you hesitate, become paranoid, turn your face from death, and regret your actions.
Speaking of regret-
With his connection to Mercy, he would monitor her through the force as the tower collapsed into itself and toppled over. She had been trained, and he would see if it was well enough to handle something straight forward like this. He hoped so.
He had a soft spot for her, but he had a strange way of showing it. Maybe he truly was losing what it meant to be human.