The Life of an Acolyte Pt 2 (Char Development + Open)

[Slade Xandir]

It had been not even a full minute of slumber, shower scent still hot on the skin of the Blood as he had just nodded off, before he felt that familiar pull, that tug on his mind that he knew too well. It was marked by the scent that perfumed his own in a diabolical degree. He left with no shoes, bare feet taking no sound to give his presence away. Dragon bone and scale against cloth made even the rattling of his sabers noiseless. And down the many halls into the grand chamber, he was yet again at the front of his Sire's Den. Knocking, as usual, was never a thing, as only a second slipped past for the massive doors to be pulled from their usual closed state. Five-Oh greeted Blood as he walked in with no sound, green dots of light betraying any hostility the droid would commit to, as he shut the doors behind the human.

Blood was in nothing but darkness, the only light coming from the viewport that was the center of the chamber was that of the stars, bleeding their limited luminescence through the gothic viewpane. Candles were not lit, so the frozen temperature of space leaked into the steel room, holding Blood's body heat hostage. Before the windowpane was that all the more menacing man that molded him to his current level of lethality, Darth Tormentous himself. Blood couldn't see very many features of his Sire, but it was obvious the massive man bore his usual Eradicator armor as the bulk was made more imposing in the dark. He could also infer that his Master wore his cape today, as the figure drenched in shadows was slim around the edges.
The Jidai Maras, wretched sword of the Damned sang it's siren flush of condemnation through to Blood from it's pedestal beside the Holocron his Alpha worked on constantly, but he paid no attention to the melody. His focus remained on Tormentous.

And it was clear he was aware, because after a minute or two of the comforting silence they always shared, the booming voice began through it's metallic sheathe affront Tormentous' face.

"I felt you and my newest Acolyte sparring. I also feel the both of you still breathing."
He did not turn, and Blood did not speak, as he knew his Lord was not finished.
"Why is it the both of you, and not simply one of you?"

Blood held only a second of hesitation before his silver tongue sung honestly to the majestic figure.

"He is not meant to be killed unless you command it so."
A breath was all he needed before the rest came clean.
"Just as I was not slaughtered within my own training, I did not slaughter him. I felt out his determination and willpower to stay alive, instead. That is his usefulness, his fire and passion that he fights with."

Tormentous gauged his words, weighting the heft of his meanings against his own judgement. Another question was slashed through the darkness, taking Blood back to distant memories that were before his time in mental reign.

"As I did with you to that traitorous degenerate Neive, I ask you again for this Acolyte. What should be done with him?"

Blood kept himself devoid of the attachment he held with Kell, that sky eyed raven that flew forward with talons primed for defense and nothing less. He was...
Worthy.

"The Acolyte is young in both the Force and control, untamed and wild as my own was. His potential surpasses his current flaws, and that deems him worth further training until he evolves to be another weapon against your enemies."

It was another second, agonizing as it passed, for Tormentous to gather his confirmed suspicions and speak according to them. He had never steered his Hunter wrong, and it paid off. The Hunter was loyal to him, and truly his own teachings were reflected in the wise words Blood returned to him.
And with that, Tormentous tuned to face Blood, stepping from each height of the pedestal, those heavy footfalls the bane of sweet dreams of children and adults alike, all over the world.
Closer and closer the nightmare of man and beast walked to Blood until before him he stood, looming over the handsome human like a terror unknown. But this was nothing but comforting to Blood, as he knew his Master well. He was under his safe tutelage, and had nothing to fear.

"Summon Kell once you depart as I have summoned you. Tell him his time has come to quake our enemies with a name that newly befalls him. He has served dutifully, and though it is long before he receives his title as you have yours, it is time he is known to be more than a simple Acolyte, or insignificant 'Kell'. It will be the name only those who live for battle, will understand."

A purposeful second was pushed forward before the name was released from its chains.
"He is now to be known as Warvanus."

Tormentous was shrouded in the darkness of the ship, but Blood felt his acidic eye bore deep into the pupils of his own as the decision was sealed. Turning from his most trusted Lord, he strode back to his pedestal, no doubt resuming his further plot to ruin the lives of millions of Jedi and legions of Imperials before finishing the topic with a single command.

"Make it so."

With that, Blood pulled his fist across his chest, right fist to shoulder blade, a bow solidifying his homage to his Master.

"It will be done."

Blood left the chambers, the creak of massive doors behind him as he returned to the world outside of his Sire's. The rooms around him felt too warm, and though he probably needed it, he strongly wished he could return to the solace of his Master's quarters, away from the world, humans and aliens alike, away from the noise, the annoyance of begging recruits, all of it. Just to learn with his Sire.
But he had a task to accomplish for him, and there was no such thing as failure in his intentions.

Through the dim hallways, Blood walked through the near empty walkways until he found himself back in that unused terminal he had his spar with Kell in. The lights were not on, so with less than a blink to spare, he powered them only a bit with a smidge of altered current he summoned in the Force. Once the circuit kicked on, he released his hold, and the lights kept themselves powered.

Directly before the baked in sheet of metal that was once his old vibrodagger, he stood, and fell into the weave of threads aboard the ship of The Malevolent, until he came to the quarters of medicine an healing where Kell resided. A spider in this thread, this massive web of life aboard this ship, Blood weaved a link between he and the Acolyte, over and over until it was solidified.
And as he felt his own mentor do him, he tugged on the thread.
The thread that led directly to him.

And he waited.

[Kell Sangros]

The Acolyte was sleeping, he was heading to the surface in the morning to meet the Sith simply known to him as “The Agent” Visions invaded his mind of the sith lord the armored one simply known to him as Warvanus. The armored Sith stood before him, telling him it was time. With that he removed his Mask. The Acolyte’s eyes focused and recognition came to him. The next thing he knew he was awake he sat up. He had been barely awake when he felt the tugging on his mind. His Master summoned him this way but this was not his Master. It was familiar it took a second before he realized it was Lord Blood. He knew this confrontation was inevitable. He dressed and sheathed his blade and his dagger and set out to the hallways. He walked with purpose, much more quicker pace than their game of “tag” all the while his thoughts drifted to the vision, the realization and how things quickly fell into place. How it all made sense. He came to the training room where they had sparred. He stood a couple feet away. His gaze fell on Lord Blood and his senses were alert. He was open to the Force. He had adapted a mask of subjectation after all he was an Acolyte and Blood was a full Sith Lord. To be disrespectful was just a invitation to die.

“You summoned for me M’lord” he said simply, And waited for to state the purpose of this meeting.

[Slade Xandir]

It didn't take that long for the Raven of War to come to him, making the decision Tormentous decided upon to be that much more solidified in confirmation. It seemed the Acolyte could differentiate between when disrespect was not tolerated and when to be a smartass. Less time for the latter than the former, but he knew it in his heart that this was not the time for it. They were both dressed in their pajamas, and something as minute as that spoke volumes.

Blood looked down his nose to many, but the spar they shared was a revelation. The potential of this whelp was more than what many came and offered to the Sith. He was determined to forge his name in the stars, and not through simple blades of fury like many expected the Sith to be, but through watching others and leveling himself to first be on par until he could surpass them. Mercy was clearly not in his eyes, and with such flare, it was clear how this one was to assist in the machines that toiled in their Lord's name. They were one in the same , he and the Raven of War was.
And it was time to make it official.

"Our Lord has called upon me to deliver a blow to you," he began, his golds delivering nothing in their glassy and unforgiving stare.

"A blow that will do nothing to aid you in anything but success and victory for the rest of your days. And this is to bring you to front with a name he chose for you. No doubt he has planned this for a while, as nothing he gives law to, is scant and fleet-thought."

Blood made it less ceremonious than what his own Master did for him, as it was a simple name, not a rank. "Take our your dagger."

[Kell Sangros]

The Acolyte listened, he had every reason to believe this was some sort of trap but the tug he felt on the Force the ebbing at his mind told him this was not a trap. He listened to Lord Blood’s words, and he obeyed and drew out his dagger, and held it.

He waited for what would happen next. Wondering if his visions were about to be validated , wondering if he was experiencing true visions from the Force or if something was trying to crawl its way to the surface.

[Slade Xandir]

He was appreciative of the lack of distrust between the two, as this began to take place. In his continued somber soliloquy of baritones, he continued.

"Across you right palm, draw blood. "
As the direction was followed, Blood brought his own self to center with the gravity of the situation.

"Lay it flat across your heart, and claim your new name, Apprentice of Tormentous, as for now," he kept on.

"You are Warvanus."

[Kell Sangros]

He did as he was instructed. Slowly as his gaze from Lord Blood did not waver, it did not falter as he slowly dragged the dagger across his palm. He did not flinch he felt no pain. He put the palm against his heart and as he heard his new name his mind began to race. So many questions, so many theories, threatened to etch into his thoughts. He repeated his new name

“I am Warvanus” he said it! The words resonated in his mind. The last bits of Kell Sangros have finally been swept away. He never knew who Kell was. Warvanus was the truth of him. He did embody war, somehow he had always known. Even with the visions, somehow he had known that he was seeing himself. The last one confirmed it but his new name that his Master picked out given to him by the Dark Side only confirmed it fully.

The features on Warvanus’ face one could tell he had questions, something on his mind. Would he be able to talk to his Master? Does he dare mention this to Blood? Should he keep it to himself?

[Slade Xandir]

He studied the reaction of the newly born Acolyte, the one to take shapes that Tormentous had seen in the past, present and future. One who was meant to slay millions across the field. How would this impact the Sith? It had better be for the better, or else any of the followers of Tormentous would come to free the Acolyte's tongue from it's home.

Blood took a step back his work finished, but made no part to leave. In al hunts, surprise is evident to the response of stealthy predators, and this confusion bore fruit. This very same confusion lined the threads of the prey before him, those hints of fragility where tauntness grew slim. Confusion, questions to be made...Were they ripe? Or would Slade have to delve...deeper into the new vessel of War...

"I see something plagues you, War. What ails you in such a serene time?" He silked the words with a lace of concern gently veiling his throbbing curiosity.

Did he regret taking on such a title? Was there even a way to come back from this with no emotional scarring?
Or physical one, instead?

What went on in that raven pelted head of his?

[Kell Sangros]

The ceremony appearing to be finished, he re-sheathed his short blade. He was truly reborn. The reality of this had yet to sink in. The beast inside had a name. It was a name befitting a warrior of his talents. He would explore these feelings eventually but right now, He was wrestling with whether or not to tell Blood anything. Outside of his master this Sith Lord was what exactly? He would not say a friend but really not an enemy or even a rival as Blood had better standing with their master. So he was no threat to Blood but it was plain to see by recent events that Blood’s view would be different.

The cold room echoed in its silence. It was still. Only the hum of various pieces of equipment could be heard in this empty dark room. He looked at Lord Blood and decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I am amazed at how the Force works” he began “For the last couple of weeks I have been having dreams, but now I see they were not dreams but visions of an armored figure, promising me things, telling me things about the Force. The last one I had he removed his mask and I saw my own face.”

He paused a second before continuing, though wondering if any of this made sense at all. “The First time I was visited he told me his name was Warvanus”

he folded his hands behind his back. “And for weeks I have been plowing through the archives coming up empty”

His expression broke into a smile “I can’t wait to prove to our Master that I was named well” with that last sentence he was of course talking about slaying and destroying their Master’s enemies and of course the Enemies of the Sith Empire.

With that he could feel his blood quicken, like it always does when he is about to go into battle or entertains the idea of being in battle. He wondered if Lord Blood thought this was foolish. These visions in fact began the process that tonight has come to completion. Now it was time to forge fear and death to his name.

[Slade Xandir]

Blood listened to the man before him give his beliefs and his philosophies, his words sending flashes of feelings scattering across the front of the Hunter's radar. Was it the Force that placed these images in War's mind? He really believed that? It couldn't have been. Could it?

"I haven't had such an experience," the dragon rider admitted. "Anything dealing with the Force is still as foreign to me as it was when it was bestowed unto me; other than that which I have gathered in my experience and training, of course." he added, thoughtfully.

A forefinger of his right hand skimmed over the lower half of his temple as he mused over and over what to make of the Acolyte. It felt he was honest by right, but the ruse was ended when he was in the heat of battle. Warfare truly had a face, it seemed, as the modest man before him could easily transform into that thriving and eager student, once again.

"I would extend my assistance in your research to find this anomaly, as long as I am not busy, of course."

It could have been detailed the 'assistance could range from Force trainings to actual bouts of sparring, but Blood kept mum on the matter. War would take it how he felt fit. And he would act on it, accordingly.

A rather pleased smile broke the front of Blood's usually serious and uninterested demeanor, his lip twisting ever so slightly at the corners.

"You will mold such excitement into useful moves, I am sure. And our Lord will take it as he always does," he chuckled as he turned to walk down the hallways threshold.

"By not killing you."

If Warvanus wanted to walk with him, Blood would not protest; he wasn't going back to sleep. Not in these hours, he wasn't. After having any kind of meeting with Tormentous, Blood always felt full of energy, so he would more than likely wear it off through some aerial exercises with his dragon or some cardio-boosters.

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus had nodded as Blood told him about never had such an experience. He wondered why he had? Was it because of all the studying and as such his knowledge of such things was expanded more than others? Maybe the Force just chose him. He did not know the answer this would be something he would need to take up with his Master. He sought answers. He felt he was perfectly named. He was a weapon being forged. Soon it was coming on when he would be unleashed. He nodded to Lord Blood at his offered assistance.

He pressed his lips together as if thinking of something. Maybe he was trying to formulate an answer of his own. He had deep down in his deepest core knew this was his name. Maybe even becoming an apprentice of the Emperor. Such were the deepest mysteries of the Force. His focus snapped back to his surroundings. “Thank you Lord Blood” he said simply.

He nodded in agreement as mold useful moves. He lived to train and grow in the Force. He would do all he could to keep his mind free from setting limitations on himself. One thing he had learned from his reading was the limits your mind sets also sets a roof on the power you can wield.

“Then I am fortunate indeed that our Master has let me continue living.” He had no illusions about his skill compared to his Master’s if it came down to it, His Master at this stage could snuff him out without breaking a sweat. He knew that. If he wasnt training he was committing himself to bringing glory to the house of Tormentous and the Empire.

He saw Lord Blood start to leave, he followed him. He was leaving in the morning to the surface of Ziost to meet a Sith Lord about a mission. If anything he saw this as a chance to further his forging, and to help snuff out the remnants of his Master’s enemy. His Predecessor. As he walked with Lord Blood he naturally kept his senses alert, he was still eerie of this person. This being of power. But yet he felt as if they were in some ways alike and because of that he felt somewhat relate-able but still he was careful on what he shared and in sharing what he had already might have been too much. It was not like he had discovered some new power in the Force and shared it. Just something that had been plaguing his sleep.

His hands folded behind his back, he walked with Lord Blood. He walked with him in silence. His mind stirring at many thoughts. He had this new mission on his mind, he had his training and his studies also on his mind. He hoped this new mission simply codenamed Red Cell would let him see some battle. His blood hungered for it. He was like a caged animal aching to be released.