SithLore

Posted: **Mon Apr 23, 2018 9:50 pm**

After the events of – Midnight’s Escape

The halls were empty and the silence was deafening, where was he? It had been some time since his silver eyes had been laid upon his familiar presence, a presence that grew darker and darker. Since the resurgence of their little group, with the influx of new blood now wandering the moon, that meant he had seen very little of his distant father. The deranged man seemed to have found himself the leader of an increasing amount of forces, with it coming decisions that Raphael often questioned. How could he justify following the orders of a madman anymore?

The cool night’s breeze rushed through his hair as the door to the outside environment slid open. His robe fluttered in the wind as he took a few steps out revealing flood lights directed at the multiple pathways leading around the resort moon. The familiar site sent him into a daydream, his mind wandering back to memories filled with pain and torment.

--

Floodlights covered the streets of Nar Shadaa, turning to face alleyways that were only painted by the neon signs. Raphael felt as if he was watching, high above as his body followed the familiar path into the bar. The bar was a mess, just how the silver had remembered it or rather how they had left it. Bodies lined the floor, blood and alcohol splattered everywhere; it was a true nightmare to anyone that would follow.

One body in particular, he remembered leaving. He left his one to die; she still haunted every moment he had to himself after he left that world. She was free now but was he? Was he right to follow such a madman on his quest for vanity and glory? What did the silver truly want from his life?

A moment passed, the body rose to its feet. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she staggered close to him. His eyes looked her over, his true weakness he finally had to face, but he couldn’t. Her lifeless body stumbled towards him before she threw her weight on top of him, sending him collapsing towards the sticky floor. Her face looked distorted like she had been rotting underground for some time now.

His eyes shut closed immediately as he tried to force himself out of the daze. The plan during those final moments in the bar was to beat her till she was close to death so that she might be free. But did he take it to far? Did he really kill his own sister? So much anger and confusion built up into that room as it exploded in a fury from them both. He couldn’t tell, but her possible death would haunt him till he knew the truth.

--

His eyes flicked open as he cursed his father. He cursed the man who had often pitted them against each other. The man who made her feels less than her brother, who made her feel weak. The young man felt as if his father drove her to the point where there was no turning back. She would of rather chosen death than to stick by her other half; it pained the young brother.

Anger took over, along with a quest to finally face his father. It had been far too long since that day. They needed to speak about what happened. Raphael would surely confront him. The darkside crept in like it wanted to embrace him like it did his father. Every fiber of his father’s being accepted it like a warm embrace, but Raphael battled with it. He did not trust its embrace or the promise that came with it anymore. Raphael had to remain suspicious of it, to harness the anger that came with his birthright into positive movements within the force.

-Begin Force Level Four App- -Word Count: 400-

Harnessing that anger, his eyes closed. He let his mind wander, not dazed but rather a concentrated effort on finding one of the last people on this moon he was bound with. That bond was nearly nonexistent these days but with his training in the force, the young man felt he could sense his father’s essence relatively easy after doing it so many times before.

Like his training had commanded so many times before, he felt the serpent of smoke rush out of his being. His mental hand reached out within the force to find any sign of familiarity of his father around the resort. If he were near, the force would simply guide his way. The smoke returned in haste, finding nothing nearby resembling his father but rather a faint feeling in the distance.

His eyes opened to the distance that he could not see; the floodlights had deterred his vision. An arm reached out towards the lights down the path, walking towards them as he went. The same smoke that had searched for his father’s life force now crept up the poles towards the bright lights. Raphael began to alter the force around them, engulfing the light in the blanket of the force. Slowly but surely the lights flickered as he walked down the pathway. One by one darkness consumed the lights as he moved to get a better visual. The young Sith was proud of how far he had come in his training. To be able to send the area into pitch black darkness was something he could only hope to achieve just a few months ago. It was still an ability he struggled to maintain, but he was growing; becoming stronger with his newfound powers.

-Pause Force Level Four App-

In the distance, he could see a mountain, one he had always noticed in the back of his mind but never ventured up it. Raphael knew his father liked to venture up there at times. Maybe that’s why he could only feel his essence within the force in a faint manner. Could he be hiding away up in the mountains like the madman he is? Raphael decided upon taking the hike towards it. Even if he wasn’t up there, the young man could at least get a better sense of the whole area from high above.

Minutes Later
--

The young man came upon the bottom of the mountain range; it looked to be a tough climb. He didn’t need to reach the top, but rather just a flat enough place on it to set up his meditation. In the distance he spotted a plateau on the mountainside, one that looked to be a promising place to start. But first he would have to begin his climb up the mountain.

-Continue Force Level Four App –

He felt confident in his ability to scale this mountain. Without the force it would be a difficult task but with it, everything seemed possible. His eyes spotted a ledge up ahead, one he could reach with a concentrated leap. The young force user channeled the smoke down to his legs; building up within his thighs, calves, and feet like it had before. The force swelled around them giving him strength to make such a daring jump towards the ledge. Raphael concentrated everything he had to push the force down through his lower muscles as the force aided him in his fight against gravity. The force pushed out of the bottom of his feet, creating a launch point from the ground and his heels.

The jump only lasted a few seconds, but Raphael found himself tumbling on the plateau of the mountainside after being launched into the air. The young man smacked the ground, as he was unable to land correctly on his feet. A smile crept over his face as he realized that was the farthest the force had allowed him to jump before. His confidence was soaring now, anything felt possible.

Raphael sat up, crossing his legs as he felt exhaustion within the force. He looked to lessen the exhaustion by doing such a routine practice yet again. His mind wandered, as he felt out the area around him, the resort in plain view of the mountainside.

Life was vibrant around him, he could feel it more so than he did down below. Creatures had its own niche up here and he could feel where they all fit in. Raphael also felt the many disturbances that lie up here; death and predation were the natural order of things in the wild. Everything was coming full circle for the young man as a presence grew near. He could finally feel his father getting closer and closer to his position; he would surely be here soon, it seemed as if he too was in a search for the other.

Raphael opened his eyes, taking in a breath of fresh air. He looked upon the view as he thought about his connection to the force and how far he had come in throughout his life. He had made such intense strides within the force as of late and only felt his confidence in it growing ever stronger. It was such an empowering feeling; he knew his ceiling in the force was so much higher. Raphael had so much farther to go and that excited him. But for now he felt he could take on whatever his father would throw at him next, including whatever he was coming to him for.

-End Force Level Four App- -Word Count: 738/400-

Posted: **Thu Apr 26, 2018 9:10 pm**

Blood had intent to talk to his Son more than a plenty of times within the range spectrum of him retuning to his side. There were promotions lined up for him, special missions to begin earning his trade on, different things he had planned for his Son to try his hand at. However, with the burden of responsibility came the burden of loss and gain. Loss of time, gain of members, intel, victories and other learning experiences that he needed as he grew to fit a role that was inevitably for him. Tormentous had made his appearance again- this provoked a change within the Sithian. It forced him to remember from what hand he was spawned, from what trials of fire, warfare, and mercilessness he had been born from. It forced him down a memory lane that he had seemed to have forgotten. Blood, the true heir of Tormentous' legacy, had stood longer and survived compared to the peers he had been surrounded by. Ambition had taken down Dastan, a Lord who conquered what he could, but had disappeared through the veil of unknown, taking Mercy with him. Her loss. Kroxata had been there because of Tormentous, so much to the point where he knew nothing other than Tormentous. Because of Tormentous' absence, Kroxata too had found himself at a loss of purpose, and gone adrift the winds of absence, as well. The Beta had ruled, no more. His loss. But Blood, the last trained purely by Tormentous, and only by Tormentous, was the sole survivor. He sought to reign in the mastery his own Sire had within him, but he stood by the conflict that came from both loyalty, and arrogance.
Had the Dark One felt this conflict, as well? To either cast Blood down in the inferno of battle as they fought for leadership of the Pack, or to accept him as leader who ruled in his stead? Which prevailed? Blood knew well enough as strong as he had become, his experience in battles and cold murder was equivalent to that of a newborn in regard to the Dark One. If pitted against the Dark Lord with nothing holding either of them back, Blood would be slaughtered within the first series of blows. Even in comparison of Force power, Tormentous could craft stars and control them- Blood hadn't even made his own holocron. He was vastly outmatched.

As Blood sat there in the frigid frost of the uppermost mountains, he recalled the lessons his Sire had invested in him, and how little leadership he had been shown. Tormentous wasn't ready to leave as soon as he had- that was apparent. But despite it, Blood wasn't ready to give up the small legacy he had invested his time in. He absolutely loathed wasted time. Simply handing over the mantle was speaking of nothing more that wasting time. The time he had spent gathering his packmates, instilling his own flavor of teaching into them, to show them the Force and how to deal with it. To begin his own build, without even knowing how or even what he was doing. Blood had worked hard on his slight title, and though he went by Lord as a ranking still, he knew soon ran the time where he would be expected more of. Stagnation meant death. And what he had brought to life would not be killed by his lack of action. He would not dishonor himself that way, nor would he dishonor his Master that way.

In his revelation, Blood had come to realize he held a special place for Tormentous in his heart, but more importantly, in his mind. Respect was there, of course. He looked up to Tormentous as a child would a father. But as Blood had come to learn, all children grew, and they all left their parents when the time came. In this case, Tormentous had instilled enough in Blood so he would be capable of passing through time with his own teachings, still wiring Tormentous' teachings while crafting his own. His legendary status was secured through Blood making his own. But Blood knew he hadn't invested enough time nor teachings into his Son. His own heir, his perfect specimen. His prodigy distanced from him, and Blood knew his lack of interaction, his focus on the handlings of business rather than time with him, it strained the youth. Raphael was falling away from the Sith; Blood felt it bloom in a fester through the silvergold thread between him and his spawn. Raphael no longer came to Blood for teachings, but Blood felt within the harbor of Raphael new branches, the little he had shown him had branched out to reach new limits, new levels of Force ability. The webs within Raphael had gotten their own trend, and once set, they were liable to not chance.
Blood was losing his hand in his Son.

Even now, he felt the youth near him, but the distance felt closer than the bond they shared. Blood was in a snowballing turmoil of the emotions that ranged between 'Abandon' and 'Rectify'. Did his Son not see what he did was for all of them? That the struggles he fought through were to benefit the Sith? Blood felt his insides begin to curl at the condemning questions. With youth came ignorance. His Son knew nothing of his plight, his mind focused on the here and now, his opinion of the present. Blood knew as an instructor. He understood much, but had the time to act on none of it. Just as swift as the morbid array came, Blood's rile by the self reflection went, dissipating into the atmosphere as smoke that escaped the built heat of his body. Too many things swirled within his mind, and he was exhausting himself simply addressing them.

Blood now understood why dragons preferred the mountains as a place of rest...even on ground, the ground was high, and the atmosphere was light- it was almost like they rested in the skies. He needed this respite. But the true rest he wanted was from himself. And that was a gift that would never come...especially since it was this conclusion that he was seeing brim over his horizon.

He had undergone enough of a change where he needed to be the man Tormentous was once was, and better himself. He would have to force himself to grow, and in turn grow his followers in the same manner. If they stayed, they stayed because they knew where legends were born. Diamonds themselves were crafted in the immense pressure and he would herald no more simple pieces of coal. His emotions would have to be gristled, hard, determined. He would have to be exactly what Tormentous had expected of him, and exceed those expectations. Everything would have to be either taken by force, or guiled with expertise. There was no more hiding in shadows and waiting for opportunities to strike...Everything would be his, and anyone who planned to stand in his way would either yield or be struck down with the unstoppable dragon that lie in his bosom. Bringing a clawed hand to his chest, Blood felt the Dark Side respond almost instantaneously. It rose in dark desires, swearing a plethora of fealties to him, whispering of all the victories to be had if only he committed to evil doings. He wouldn't deny them, as they and witt were what kept him going this far. Slade was too weak to embrace the desires, to follow the streak of red he walked so confidently. Slade was too ready to submit, when in fact he didn't know what properly needed to be submitted to. Slade never had the ability to appreciate his success, to take in power. And even now, that damn persona tried rubbing off onto Blood. Well, those days would fade into oblivion, and from the void would rise the monster the Sith needed. And he wasn't going to stop until all of it was his.
All of it.

The first thing that needed to be addressed was his Force ability. In order to compete with the best, he would have to fight hard for his ability to do so. No longer would he allow time to pass him by. Tormentous himself took time for studying and preparing his abilities, to hone the edge of vicious abilities he flaunted so perfectly. Blood too needed to take this time to bring himself to mastery of the Force. He wasn't too far away...but every step taken was a step gained.

-----Level 12 App---

Blood pulled forth from his innermost deep harbor of creation the feelings and memories that spurned him to fight through each day. The battles he had fought alongside Tormentous, the lessons in which he felt himself grow, the things he had taken to teach himself. He took the painting of timeline and bled it into a flurry of colors and feelings on how he got through each scenario. And from each, he addressed them as they came. He knew his abilities as they couldn't increase anymore than what they had currently, the ability to Alter the world around him successfully, the ability to Control the essence that raced through his monstrous form even now with complete ease, the ability to Sense everything around him with such remarkable and now instinctual practice. But he wanted each head of the triangle of Force to harmonize yet again, to increase his abilities and knowledge as much as possible. The desire bubbled within him, curling around his fractured mind as it held him together on this singular track with extreme perception. The Force itself had helped him to be as great as he fought to be to this point, and there was no stopping. There was so much he had left to accomplish, and just referencing the future in such an unknown manner had tightened his need for this to be real. The Dark Side too had caught wind of his desires, already moving in on the hunt with it's wily mannerisms. Promises that rang into unspeakable deeds, deeds that needed to be accomplished before he attempted anything. And he confirmed it. He would bring forth the destruction and fury across worlds. He would be the Nightmare that plagued millions and billions of individuals, and the Dark Side reveled in his return of words. It cascaded over him in a firefall of passion and ecstatic reason, of triumphant ambition. And he drank it all in, absorbing the virile desires with such eagerness that his irises morphed to that sickening sunburst yellow, the pupil eclipsing within the yellow which was rimmed by that hungry red. He was the centerpiece of the Dark Side, it's chosen harbinger, and he would oblige as long as he received the glory he was meant to have.

He sat within the hellfires which became all too real. His immediate embellishment in the dark grasp of the evil ambiance surrounded him with his own known ability. With such mastery, Blood had managed to surround himself in fire, the frost rock around him heating up and bursting into flames as it spread from where he sat. These fires were uncontrolled, erupting from the near rock to him and blazing away from him as his desires grew. His essence and willpower spread from him, igniting wild fire as he ranged through the array of accomplishments he wanted in his name. And writhing in it all were the malevolent intents that he wanted to sum them all up with. This anarchy he would spread, this corruption and chaos, it surged a venomous set of fangs into the atmosphere around him, and the shadows of the flames stretched unnaturally. Blood felt the level of burden put on his shoulders from this explosion of ambition, but remarkably it felt lighter than what he expected it to be. However he didn't want to lose the momentum he had going, yet even as he focused on one ambition, another came to be. The shadows danced around the flickers of ember and cinder as Blood imagined himself simply stepping onto a planet, and it's inhabitants bowing directly in his presence. He felt the illusion spark deep and primal lusts, his want to be recognized, feared, obeyed without question. But from it was the ability to get there. The illusion was so vivid, he could feel the heat of battle as he tore down walls of homes and dragged several members out, slaughtering innocents and punishing their protectors. As he spread his despicable wrath across it's wastelands and owned it all, he felt it. Riding into battle on some carnivorous beast which shredded and burned, the heat, the passion, it escalated into such a seizure of bliss! Blood felt an exhale escape him as he was drowning himself in this sight, in this future, and the Force rammed through him with vivacious power. It enhanced his body, pumping his already bulky and tankish body with it's abilities, an adrenaline that pounded him with destructive possibility. The madman knew no bounds, and felt none hold him back. He could topple buildings with just a thought as this ride promised him such. This high forced him to see what he wanted, and the illusion pared him in it's sensual roller coaster of enchant.

He was breathless, feeling this storm of emotions run over and around him. The flames bled into new territory, rising higher as they fed on the oxygen and were bathed in his determination. He included more and more into the festering furnace, and soon anger showed it's scarred face. Anger at his Daughter for leaving from legend to lost soul, from choosing her fate to be in her own craft as opposed to those of a Master. Over taking all that he invested in her and throwing it back in his face. The fires around him began to blacken the rock they touched, to darken the flat steep of the mountain that it burned upon. The rock reflected this as his fury seared it to be. His fury at the absence of his Master, the reappearance of the demi-god just as Blood had chosen to take that place he wasn't even sure he could. It was livid at the indecision the Draconian King had before he reached this point. It curdled and broiled with scathing hisses and bubbles, and the shadows underneath the flames actually mocked it, distorted spheres bumping along the flattened ground. The power of his mind, his will to make it seen, to make it real, it escalated into a natural illusion around him. Natural, but illustrated the unnatural. Bubbles like black tar became what was once plain shadow, hot, sticky, viscous and tar-like. A cesspool of Dark Side making itself seen through the powers he emmanated. His own shadow cast in the flames warped and he could imagine it in all it's horrid glory. He could see it as clearly as he saw himself, and the shadow obeyed his will. It coiled and stretched into a clawed and dripping beast of Void, congealing and twitching, a terrifying and undetailed head swiveling to look for a meal to suffocate in it's sticky embrace. He could push his limits of the Illusion and Darkness further, but he reserved those anticipations.

The Sithian then recalled the betrayal of not only his former apprentice, Mercy, as she left to put herself beside that Dastan, but of his Daughter who left him, as well. The betrayal stung him repeatedly, and it sizzled in acid as he knew the same fate was coming to haunt him again with his Son. He had given his Son a home, fed, clothed, he had given the youth weight behind his name. He had given him studies which would only increase his power, but the paranoia of this looming befallment cast Blood into the category of forsaken. Forsaken by Tormentous until now, forsaken by his own spawn, and the only followers who remained had looked to him for answers. The Force imploded within him, and the 'whoosh' that came of it was the illusion disintergrating as the fires which fed it were snatched away and reabsorbed by the Sith Lord. The awful pressure of energy was held as a gun would be to a temple, and he found himself feeling drained, weak, and teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Some irrational thought came to him, laughter, tears, screams, chants, all of it tore at him from within, saying how little control he truly had over the arising situation. It swore if he released his breath, it would all go away. Danger sense however told him this was a ticking time bomb within him, and if he so much as let go of the hold he held, he would cease living. There was some premonition that told him this build up was capable of ending him, and faintly he wondered if this same ball of Force within him was the star Tormentous had crafted so long ago.

It began to fade as he picked at it. Breath still held, he held himself up from the sitting position with a slouch and one arm, then reversed his capacity by dispersing chunks and pieces of the Force ball through his body, trying to stabilize himself. To hone it all to a calming point, he brought up that trust he shares with his recruits, that bond they all harbor. The loyalty they pledged to him, and most of all, the man became submurged in the cooling relief of it all when he pictured the face of Rahab and her modest relief. He had never known chains off of his shoulders to be so great when he had imagined the darker youth, her face painted with those contrasting colors, thick dark hair locked forever in a heave of braids, her ornament to decorate it a veil. Her meek and open disposition, her stature, those silver eyes. Her purpose.
And how he lived to bring her out of that shell of hers, in exchange for the comfort she gave him.

The warm feelings blessed the cracked and marred temperatures within him, and he felt everything come together in a smooth pudding of spiced treat. He kept the delicacy warm from the passionate cinders in his core, while it remained grounded by remembrance of that cloaked Sithette. And from the stressed webs he had fell within, all became real to him again, as he took that breath. Blood had come to learn exactly how dangerous it was to love, to hate. To grow tired, to overburden. And he was on the cusp of balancing it all enough to be in his favor,
And fuel him enough to take over the universe.

---End of Lv. 12 App---WC: 1699/1200 ----

The Draconian Sith laid himself back on the mountain as he recovered from the intense surge he had just undergone in the Force.

Posted: **Thu May 24, 2018 3:29 pm**

The vegetation of the lush mountain began to light up as he wandered the mountain range. A chill ran down his spine as an intense feeling within the force gave away impending danger. Slowly moving boots now began to move with haste as the air around him began feel thick and taste of soot. Chaos was erupting around him as burning wildlife came into view, it was evident he was getting closer. Raphael didn’t need a close bond or force abilities to understand why this was happening, such events seemed to follow his father wherever he went. The man that had given him everything but at the same time took everything away from him, summoned chaos with every step he took.

Resisting the natural instinct to head farther away from danger, Raphael approached the clearing his father sat in, engulfed in flames. He stood confidently as he came down from his intense reach for power. The young man knew he wouldn’t be dealing with Slade this night, rather the madman himself, Lord Blood.

His robe continued to flutter in the nights wind, embers sparking nearby. A burning tree branch fell nearby creating a chain reaction. The embers from the branch sparked up catching his cloak, a flame began to burn on the tail end of his robe. It quickly grew as Raphael noticed, swiftly disrobing. The robe burned brightly on the ground as it revealed the bone-plated armor the young man wore with a lightstaff holstered tightly onto his back.

Raphael stood strong as the flames burned everything around him, he would not make the first move. Instead, Raphael would remain quiet until his father noticed him enough to speak. It had been far too long since they had a conversation not pertaining to orders. It was a long time coming and Raphael assumed they both had much to say. He would wait patiently for the right time to approach him.

Posted: **Thu May 24, 2018 8:34 pm**

Always the silent one, the Serpent slithered unabashed to his presence as he recovered from the cataclysmic excess of power he had accumulated. Nearly wanting to just continue to lay there, to take more time to rest, the Sithian shook himself of the pleasure to offer words to the Platinum.

"We meet on shambled terms, Raphael..." he began, removing his massive form from the frosty floors of the mountain. "But regardless of the unbalance, I see you."

He recognized his Son through the thick and thin of everything they had accomplished together. Hells be damned, the prodigy was made for that, specifically, alongside of upholding and surpassing that which Blood was to instill in him. This was the self-made prophecy Blood would never release.

Standing to his full height of now seven feet, the man was clearly anything but, at this point. Scaled-over flesh that was actually living orbalisks was nearly identical to that of his own cursed Arkanian mount. The Sith Lord was several heads higher than what he once was. Steadying him in the frigid sway of the upper atmosphere that he couldn't even feel anymore, was a tail as long as he was tall, horned with matching scales and spikes. Keeping him grounded were thick legs that could have easily been the trunks of smaller trees, rooted with thickly clawed feet. The ebony body of his held two massive muscular arms, paired with a widely girthed chest and a back that seemed capable of harnessing enough power to break steel with ease. He no longer had his head full of hair, as his scalp was now scaled over in that same thick and scaled flesh, with a pair of horns beginning to adorn the top of his forhead, curling upwards in a a fashion much like that of a War Behemoth. The only clothes he wore were a front and back facing long pair of loincloth, and at his waist keeping the garment secured was a belt he made long ago, made of vyper skin and holding both of his dragonhilt sabers. Straddled across his neck was his amulet he used to intensify his connection to the Dark Side with, hanging by a golden chain. The garnet gem was the only color on this monstrous man, other than those eerie golden eyes that were set back in shadow underneath an overhang of a horned brow.

"Tell me what you think of now, Siabras," the void-colored inhuman spoke through a forked tongue and fang-sheathing lips. He used his Son's old nickname he had given him, or one of them, rather. This one, however, was his personal favorite.

"What dwells on your mind."

It wasn't actually often Blood had concerned himself with trying to understand anything other than himself and how to accomplish his wants. This could have been an unbelievable mistake, or something that would repair the bridge between the pair.

Posted: **Sun May 27, 2018 9:39 pm**

The haze from the frost and fire finally cleared as he saw a figure standing to its feet before him. A monster, nearly doubling the size he could remember his father once being. Scales, horns, and legs that were massive enough to send him into a coma with a simple kick; who was this being standing in front of him? Raphael cocked his head to the side as he noticed another limb sprouting behind it…. A tail!?

Raphael felt a familiar presence but could this really be his father? Through all of his faults and evil, Slade always looked more human than this beast. Something was way off here; something had completely changed since the last time they spoke. Even though the man he new as his father faded between Slade and Blood constantly, he could always recognize one or the other. But maybe the answer was right in front of him; maybe his father no longer existed. Was Slade truly dead and was Blood’s true form finally showing?

Regardless of the answer, Raphael would step forward to face this demon. The beast seemed to stand tall as he walked in to his view. The young man dug into the frost in front of him and posed himself confidently. His fists tightened as he fought back any ill-advised words. Raphael had to dissect his new opponent before delving into any difficult conflict they might have.

“You speak a name I have not heard in some time, one only my father spoke. What is it you have done with him?” he muttered out.

Raphael began to inch closer to the demon. “Did his unstable lust for power finally catch up to him?” he questioned arrogantly.

Posted: **Tue May 29, 2018 7:42 pm**

Blood listened with his horned auds trained on the confident and unafraid male, the one he had swore would rule in the perfect stead of his own. It seems his Son did not recognize him. Of course not; how would human and dragon be capable of being distinguished from one another? He had been a handsome devil, someone capable of using charms on unexpected maidens, only to corrupt them with nothing more than a wink. But this nightmarish form he was in currently held no such hex. The only feelings capable of being engaged upon seeing him now was fear- but his Son had stood strong in the face of dragons before. There was no way to put fear in an Xandir.

The dark rumble of voice left his throat in a growl that wasn't hostile in the slightest; moreso it was just a natural sound his voice had managed to become from the deeper and thicker width. "Raphael, I am your Father."

Blood had half a mind to tell the Silver how many changes were going to be coming to the Sith, but he would save that for so much later down the line. If his Son was truly meant to rule by his side, he would learn of them according to proper time. Tormentous hadn't dawned upon Slade or Blood every plan and happening; neither would he.

"I've noticed the growth within you, Son, the bloom of Force manifesting in your heart. It has not my touch, but your own. This is useful to you as it proves serpents are indeed solitary creatures. They need no guidance on the art of mastering their lethal lives. I see this trait in you, and I do not have ill harbor towards it."

Blood turned to the youth, his fangs threatening to bear as his rage had been hidden for far too long of the coming revelation.

"Yet the tables turn as you vex me, Raphael. You stray from me in a receding tide, and I'll have no tolerance of this. I have already lost Mercy to a Sith who strayed from his right minded plight, and Xendiss has declared herself to be nothing of mine! Traitors will not be allowed solace in my pack, and your Sister has proven herself unworthy!"

The heat returned to his heart, illuminating the crevices between the orbalisks in a volcanic display of light that was leering through the husks of void shaded shells.
His fist clenched as he stared down at his fruit, his perfect spawn staring so arrogantly up into his eyes, eyes that hadn't witnessed submission from the man since his Return from Sith Study.

"Promotions laid out with your name carved upon them. A harem of women at your choice of call. Servants and palaces with your throne ready for rule. You place by my side, ruling until the day where I am to test your eclipse into reign! All of it sat upon your birthright, and your insolence threatens to cull it in it's wake..."

His voice lowered in volume, but the growl now deepened in timbre as his golden irises glistened with reddening malice.

"You may throw it away if you wish, but until you kneel and submit, your head will gleam next to your ingrateful Sister's on my Throne of Skulls."

If his Son refused to follow the Sith tradition, then he would be slain, as he was considered either an imposter or a traitor. Blood no longer was tolerating those who swerved their loyalties. Warvanus was swiftly rising in tandem with Blood's own pace, their trial proving the War Bringer had submitted finally to Blood's leadership. Warvanus had completely disowned Tormentous, pledging the entirety of his servitude to the whims of the soon becoming Dark Lord. Tide changed fast, and the Initiate kept his pace with them all. As Tormentous and Kroxata had been, soon the cycle would repeat as only one Apprentice could fully be trained to perfection by a Master.

But as the prodigy had been, would he always be?

"Or choose you toss your life in the crypt to which you will rot?"

Posted: **Tue May 29, 2018 9:22 pm**

A dark bellowing growl came forth from the demon to declare that all Raphael had thought was true. Blood had finally consumed his father Slade with the help of the dark side of the force it seemed. The darkness radiated heavily from this beast, Blood could no longer hide inside the body of Slade. Raphael was prepared for such an answer before he even approached the devil; he knew all along this could be a possibility. Even after all of his declaring and demanding, the beast standing before him only made Raphael’s decision more of an easy one.

Silver eyes moved from the beast to lock onto the frosty mountainside. He overlooked the resorts on Sojourn, briefly mourning the death of his father. Mourning the man he once knew as Slade, through all of his faults still fought every day against the demon that now has taken over. It was a shame, a shame that he no longer would learn from his father but would instead have to move forward on his own.

Still facing the resorts, “I am surprised you have taken time out of your madness to notice any progress I have made.” His voice remained humbled, “You would also be correct in assuming that I no longer need any guidance to master what has become so natural to myself.”

Turning towards the beast Raphael bellowed out, “And you say I vex you? You have no tolerance for me straying? Let me enlighten you.”

Raphael took a few steps closer, posing confidently. “Maybe you have lost so many because you yourself push them away! Maybe they were right by questioning your madness!” he yelled out.

Raphael’s arms stretched out to make himself seem bigger. “You are not worthy to lead these people! You cannot even see your own son. I do not require women, servants, or palaces. I only wish to lead our people to prosperity!” he argued.

His arms came up behind his back to take hold of his staff. “I care not for Sith tradition. I’ve lived among these people you call servants, I’ve grown with them. I will unite us in an age of glory with the rest of this galaxy… with or without your help.”

His lightstaff ignited in a blaze of gold, revealing a weapon his father had not seen yet. “I will, as my sister did before me, never again kneel to your psychotic tendencies!” he declared.

Analyzing the situation, Raphael began to back up. He feared he did not know the opponent standing before him yet. It was best if he escaped and returned to fight another day.

“I will offer you demon, a moment of rest before I come for my people. That at least, I owe to Slade. I will be taking those loyal to me and liberating the Sith once and for all!”

Posted: **Wed May 30, 2018 6:26 pm**

ₒₚₑₙ yₒᵤᵣ ₘᵢₙd bₑfₒᵣₑ yₒᵤᵣ ₘₒᵤₜₕ...

Blood listened to the words of his heir with growing distaste. If cordiality was a gene, the Silver surely had it. The same mock tones of genuine and careful admittance rose from a living grave of his Son's chest, scorning the unwary but irritating the Sithian who taught him such a skill, let alone bred it naturally into him. It was even more blasphemy to feel the nearly visible resolve settle crisply around the shoulders of his spawn. Infuriating, and the Silver knew it.

"Madness? Madness, he claims!" It was then Blood chuckled as if his Son has spoken a slight joke, some minor jest that he felt tickle his chest just a bit. "I'm not mad, boy; my wits are about me in ways you would not possibly grow to understand. They're just too complicated for a pup to grasp. All was meant to come in due time," he continued, his tone lowering to become more solemn. "Yet it seems I no longer need to explain myself to someone who cares not to heed and learn, anymore."

"I need not to seek your accomplishments; they are for you to catch my eye, you insufferable tick. I look not for the populace's happiness. I look for the continuing of dominion of our Pack of the entirety of the galaxy. But it shows how soft I have been on you, caring and failing to see that it was my emotions which coddled you, not logic, not power. Tormentous has yet again proven himself the foresight of all. I have lost this love of mine," he stated moreso to himself now than initially. "And now I must use these consequences to callous myself from it."

"I will offer you demon, a moment of rest before I come for my people. That at least, I owe to Slade. I will be taking those loyal to me and liberating the Sith once and for all!"

His fists clenched, thick and sharp nails barely biting into the thick-skinned flesh of his palm. Internally, he cursed the day he crafted the twins from his own lust for connection, but that paled in contrast to the appreciation he held about this circumstance. It was fated for him to fail this trial, to lose his most cherished creation. It was the will of life, of destiny. It was specifically made for him to learn his lesson. His Son thought Slade was gone, perished. Slade was in fact gone from sight, but he dwelled in a cage underneath the boot of Blood, unable to free himself of the tyrannical draconian.

Yet he remained. Remained to impregnate emotions, no matter how faint or feeble, into the disarrayed mind of the chaotic Dragon King. Whispers of humanity that he knew would haunt him until he could fully engorge this vessel once and for all. The Dark Side would be his, and his alone to control.

His shoulders flexed as he witnessed his Son make his threat, massive barbaric muscles writhing like some unkillable specter beneath the onyx hide. His eyes reflected the golden luminescence of his spawn's weapon, but the difference between the two shades was the blooming scarlet spreading from the void pupil's edge, bleeding into the iris. The evil within called to him as soothingly as an unforsakable lover, gifting him such adrenaline with a sweet kiss, and inflammation of power from the promiscuous caress.

"Then the Void will court your forsaken soul, Siabras."

All of his energy swirled within the unbelievable mass of his chest, and the enthralled Lord of Dragons released a roar that was clearly not human. Powerful and vicious, the savagery released in that roar told of nothing but loss and fury, ruin by a degree of unspeakable torment. It promised vengeance, but most of all, it was the crux of his connection to Raphael being severed, ragged and torn through anguish and killing desire. It paired with the disappointment of his Son refusing the Dark Side, the vehement loathe of his heir denying his role in the prophecy.
And the ultimate decision to end it all, right here, right now.

Lashing out with a clawed grasp, mixed martial arts became his focus. Thick and reaching, his left hand ran forward to grapple or even shred whatever it could before a whirl of body resulted in tail slinging to trip the failed Acolyte, and downward slam of his right rammed swift to eviscerate the Prince of Serpents in a gutting blow. Air sang with singed edges as his overpowered attacks were swift and unblockable. The amulet in the thong around his neck shone with a dark light, an eye in itself with mental magnetic pull, an eye of the Void itself which granted Blood amplification in unity with the 3 heads of the Force and power behind his attacks. Though his speed was nowhere what it once was when he was a human, the strength he now contained alone was capable of breaking bones with ease, making his human capabilities seem obsolete.

Posted: **Wed May 30, 2018 8:08 pm**

Raphael watched as his father chuckled about being called mad, in a way that seemed to be mad itself. It only would reaffirm that his father indeed was mad, but would a madman ever admit to being one? If his father’s plans were indeed to complicated to grasp, Raphael was sure he would never want to grow out of being a “pup”. If madness followed growing out of that stage, he wouldn’t want any part of being like this. It did not matter though, Raphael knew who he was and wanted to become. He knew that he never wanted to be like the man standing before him, this insane demon. No matter the degrading comments or words of the future that might have been, Raphael knew in his heart what would happen if he allowed his father to continue his tyranny.

He watched, as his father did not call upon his familiar weapons. Instead the beast tensed with what seemed to be the intent to attack with nothing but its clawed hands. The Demon, formally known as his father, knew he could overpower Raphael even if he had his lightweapon. A rash decision came to mind, as the golden blades of his staff retracted into the magnificent hilt. His hands clipped it upon his back as his knees bent to prepare for the being to attack.

“Hand to hand it is then,” Raphael thought to himself.

The young man knew himself to be the weaker opponent of the two, especially in martial combat. But he had hoped his quickness and elusiveness would outweigh the devil’s raw strength and size. Hope was the only thing that could carry him through this encounter it seemed.

A tingling feeling in the back of his head alerted him to the impending attack as he watched the monsters joints move in a furry towards him. The demon took a moment to charge to him and around that time, Raphael was ready to fend off any attacks. He began parrying away-clawed strikes, as he also had to leap over or duck under some of its haymakers. Raphael ducked under one of its attacks as he swiftly moved behind the beast to catch him off guard.

His face smacked the frosty grass of the mountainside as he quickly tried to recover from a fatal mistake. He forgot the fragging tail that protruded unnaturally from the back of the beast. Raphael didn’t see it coming at all as it swept his feet out from under him. Quickly, he had to roll as an attack was launched into the dirt of where the former Acolyte was supposed to be after tripping. If he wouldn’t of been so quick, it would of proven to be his last decision.

The young man launched a heated kick from the ground to the tree trunk legs of the demon as he pushed off, recovering to his feet. Eyes sparkled in the reflection of the amulet that graced the beast’s neck. “That’s new,” he thought to himself.

Raphael danced around as he watched the beast recover. He would move in and out attempting to land a strike each time. His feet moved with such pace that they hoped up and down off of the ground like a professional arena brawler.

His hands dropped as he remembered one important part of his training since he had been back with his father. All of his loyal followers and those loyal to Raphael were accounted for. Lilith had left, Rahab was clueless, Warvanus was worthless, Xendiss was gone, Kroxata fought back, Kressara was with him, Mercy was with Dastan. Where was Fox? He had been so wound up with the undoing of his father that he had forgotten about someone who had taught him the ins and outs of living in the underworld, the one who was his father’s right hand man before he took up his throne.

Raphael looked up to the beast concerned and confused, “Demon… Where is Fox?”

Posted: **Fri Jun 01, 2018 5:00 pm**

The downward clawed right surged through the air, pummeling only millimeters away from the Prince who slithered away in a roll. The force behind the blow was outright devastating, and the major heft of his hand struck the rock with power to shatter it. It had indeed splintered, cracks spreading out in a wide web from the spot of impact, minor veins sprouting from where claws too had struck the cold stone. Pulling back to recover from the miss, Blood began to straighten as a shove more than anything comparable bashed against his leg. Not yet fully back from the recovery, the draconian stumbled slightly before he yanked himself away from the immediate vicinity of the Silver's leg-reach.

Words crossed between them before hits did, and Blood took the fact that Raphael had even the courage to speak to him still as an insult. his hard lips reared back in a terrifying snarl as the sharp tongue lashed sounds that were barely understandable.

"Worry of your own life! His was forfeit!"

It was then the Dragon King leaped forward, a massive heave of muscle and menace, claws outright on his left grasp sweeping in a long northwestern slash to shed bone from chest, and skin from bone. Meanwhile, he threw his weight a majority of forward, he pulled his right reach from it's passive and armed state to immediately decimate only just above the belt, claws tucked as his fist balled and was sent with crippling force to Raphael's midsection.

"He got too close. Food can only be ignored for so long."

SithLore

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