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| Tomorrow's Quarry | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 1 2016, 12:04 PM (62 Views) | |
| Lord | May 1 2016, 12:04 PM Post #1 |
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Lady Kartien thought upon her battle plan. Battle plan of the future, that is. It was complicated, it would make sense to few. But in her head she could piece the grand play that would, hopefully, play out before her in perfect order. But that was no promise, after all, and she would have to work hard to achieve it. The Galaxy was a dangerous place and she was merely one woman. But her passion, her power and her strength would drive her to greater heights. She knew this to be true, for it was so for many of her predecessors. Her thoughts quit lingering however, her mind brought back to the present as screeches of terror awoke her primal senses. "Please, you don't have to do this!" The failure called to her. His eyes watered almost as much as he sweat, the beads of liquid dripping like a waterfall down his face. It was amusing to her. Perhaps if he didn't distract her so much with his incessant screaming she would give him enough pardon to offer an alternative in his fate. But this once prideful student failed her test. It was unacceptable. She was justified in her actions. The failure had to die. "You brought this on yourself, poor boy." The damaged failure laid bare and weak before her on the tomb floor. "You became boastful, you were filled with pride. You are a failure, now the immortal gods of the Sith will accept you as my offering. Stand up and place yourself on the altar." He shook his head back and forth, fear settling deep and panic thriving within him, "No! I don't want to die!" She shook her head, "No, you don't get it. It's not your choice, it's mine. I chose this for you, what you think is irrelevant." His persistence in disobeying her frustrated her more. The fate was sealed, he delivered his life to her since the beginning. It isn't her fault that he failed. "No please, I'll do anything!" Commanding didn't seem to be enough. An authoritative gesture of power was needed, and that came in the form of streaks of light sparking from Katrien's hands, wrapping the boy in electricity that shook him violently. He cried with pain as Katrien reiterated her demands, "Upon the altar now!" The boy staggered once the punishment ceased, standing shakily to his feet and trotting slowly to the altar that would spell his demise. He climbed upon the stone structure, an altar designated to none other than the Sith of Old, the Dark Lords that came before and ruled Korriban. It was engraved with High Sith, hieroglyphics covering its surface, artistically and painstakingly grafted by someone long ago. The dark side was imbued within it, the chill it brought felt across the room. It was empowering and frightening. Katrien stepped up towards the alter, it raised on a two-step platform to emphasise its importance. A spotlight shown from above thanks to a skylight that filtered Korriban's sun into the tomb. "Please remain still." She pleaded, but felt he was never going to comply. His squirming frustrated her but it was ultimately pointless for her to try and have him remain in one place. She lorded over him, his fear feeding her like a teat from the dark side itself. She hovered her hands over him, the chill of the altar drawing out and entering her. She shivered, she could feel her innards turn as she became physically sick. The palms of her hands radiated a dim red glow. Whispers began to echo across the chambers in languages incomprehensible by the sentient mind. The hands continued to wave across the boy, who shook viciously with a painful chill. The red glow from her palm suddenly cascaded onto the boy. A stream of what could only be described as energy connected between her and him, and he instantly let out a scream of pain. His shivering became more and more violent and his screams becoming louder as his nerve endings shrieked. Then slowly, in a gradual stream, beads of blood began to seep from his pores. His veins and arteries ripped internally, his skin turning a deep purple. Permitting this freedom, the blood continued to seep bit by bit through his skin. Although he tossed and turned, the arm in pain was locked in place by a force beyond him. He couldn't escape the indescribable suffering he was being forced through. The blood began to levitate, each bead attached to the stream of energy between Katrien and the boy. And each drop came to Katrien's palm. She gasped, the process itself both painful and empowering. She could feel the blood energised in the dark side. As her mind warped his cells into her own devices, the blood that trickled from him to her turned black. Upon reaching her palm, they would soak into her, the black transformed blood finding their own way through Katrien's pours. She, too, suffered the pain. She panted in despair as her hands felt agony from the process, but Katrien was a Sith, and a very well trained one. Pain and suffering was always endured, and endurance through pain and suffering leads to its own rewards. The process continued until the boy was clean. An hour of crying and screaming eventually came to silence as every drop that once kept him alive was now gone. He was white as snow and shrivelled like the carcass of a spider's victim. She heaved heavily as she dropped to her knees. Her breathing was erratic as she attempted to recuperate as quickly as possible. Her deep pants however became more controlled with time, using the altar as support as she clambered to her feet and leant against it to save herself from falling again. She looked to her hands, bruised dark purple as they always were after this ritual. She inhaled sharply and pushed herself from the altar. She gave the boy one more look, "Thank you." |
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| Lord | May 9 2016, 10:15 AM Post #2 |
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Their impulses, their cries. You could hear the sporadic wishes of many if you listened closely enough. And oh, she certainly did. She wondered on the passions of the subjects. What did they want? What did they aspire to have? In this Galaxy of destruction, living within the clutches of a maniacal Emperor with his reign of dark side worshipping Sith, what was there to hold on to? Fear. Of course. An emotion so weak yet so powerful simultaneously. It is weak for an individual to have, though natural of course, she couldn't deny that. But its power was in manipulating the one who held that fear. And that was Merciless' game. She knew it well by now. She could play the game too. But as she already discovered, there were more powerful emotions that, while much harder to manipulate, can be manipulated into much greater strength that fear could never match. "I promise you that." Katrien's watchful eyes inspected the motions of the uneased politician who sat across from her. Of course, being in the presence of a Sith can be unsettling, and she knew that. Their potential to do anything to achieve what they want is entirely what drives many to do as they ask. But control of fear was the play of amateur at best. She knew she could gain much more from controlling their much more fiery emotions, their emotions of hate, of anger, of passion. That is where strength would be found, not fear. "How can I be certain that you will pull through?" His voice was shaky. It was more what Katrien suggested that made him feel worry, rather than Katrien herself. But Katrien knew what she asked was nothing so simple and so easy to hop on board of. "That's just it, my fair First Senator. How can you be certain that I will pull through? You can be certain by backing me. I know how to win this fight, I know all the right buttons to push, the right cards to play. But the credits? The assets? The means? All beyond me, right now. But I know you, First Senator. I know you better than you know yourself. I can see through you, First Senator. I can sense the fear, the worry. I can feel how scared you are." The politician was disgruntled. An upright man being told he was fearful, nothing could be so rude. But he knew truly that she was right, he was scared. What she suggested would surely end his life, should she fail, "I just don't see the Raxus Collective supporting this in such infancy." "You either let your life be ruled by fear, or let me convert that energy into anger. Let me convert it into hatred. Let me turn it into something useful, something powerful. And let me show you how true power is used. Trust me and you will never regret this." He gave a long hard think, and for quite some time. Katrien sat patiently. She could coerce him, threaten him. But she felt like that was cheating. It wasn't genuine. And you don't forge good allies out of threats. After all, she knew fear was weak. In the end, it was going to be through mutual hatred of a common foe that her alliances would grow strong, not through coercion of her peers. And he spoke, "I... agree. I am in agreement. We musn't let ourselves be ruled by fear, but rather, led by wise judgement. I hope you know what you're doing." Katrien laughed, "For your sake, I hope I do too." |
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