Forum is undergoing some back-end transfers and updates, please be patient if the forum is down or loading slowly!

Training The Lessons and Design of Cygnus Luc'idus - RP

corinthia

Administrator
Staff member
Administrator
Immortalis
The Lessons and Design of Cygnus Luc'idus


432ba7c6506b5530f2a4e9d4c6e6e799.jpg
EgQD3YoX0AsTUGT



IC: Imperatrix Hesper
Fortress Vader Mustafar

Mustafar.

What a storied planet; steeped in history and roiling with the blazing, fiery red lava that scarred the glorious, doomed Darth Vader. These were the forge-fires of great Sith, the proving grounds where followers of the dark side tested their mettle. And it was here where the omniscient Empress waited for the arrival of yet another new apprentice: Cygnus Luc'idus.

Luc'idus was already training in the ways of assassination at the Academy on Korriban, and from what she had seen of him, she knew he would be a fine match for her training. She gazed out over the lava fields from the high vantage of Fortress Vader, the old bastion once belonging to Darth Vader. She'd had the castle restored to perfection, a pristine revitalization of its former grandeur. The floors shone like mirrors, and the black hallways were now lined with relics and artworks of bygone eras. Each was softly illuminated and labeled, like a gallery of dark arts. A shard of Vader's armor, carefully restored; a sculpture from the time of Palpatine's Galactic Empire; a curling, yellowed map of a lost tomb; the famed mask of Lord Momin, the genius behind Fortress Vader, displayed proudly (if a bit temptingly) upon a beautiful pedestal; and the Empress' own sculptures, fantastically crafted of bronzium and stone and depicting the macabre, twisted forms of Sith of millennia gone by, standing many meters tall and casting gruesome shadows upon the walls and ceilings.

All was intoxicatingly dark. These vestiges were rank with power.

The shuttle bearing Cygnus down to the planet's surface flew low over the boiling lava fields, the red glow of molten rock casting the interior of the craft in ominous, dangerous light; he would feel the subtle pulse of the dark side, beating like a heart, emanating from the planet below. His face, pale in the crimson light, would swivel in a broad sweep as he took in the vastness of Mustafar. Perhaps Cygnus would feel nervousness, apprehension. Perhaps he would feel excitement, elation, or determination. Perhaps he would feel all these emotions, all at the same time, his heart giving a jolt as the shuttle's landing on the landing strip of Fortress Vader jostled him.

241dd48bd59456fe8c8b5e06a66b19b0f29fd793.gifv

Disembarking, Cygnus was guided by instinct, placing one foot in front of the other, as if they walked of their own accord, leading him into the heart of Vader's castle. He was paraded past all the beautifully displayed artworks and artifacts, feeling their seductive pull as he passed, craning to catch a look longer than a glance. Interspersed throughout the glorious works of art, stationed in the darkest shadows, were the Empress' Arch Troopers, soldiers cloaked in onyx robes and gleaming black plastoid armor, with sinister rifles held in gloved hands. Helmets obscured their faces; only a thin line of red light where their eyes ought to be betrayed that there might be people within those ultra-still carapaces of black.

Still, his feet carried him forward. Could this be some power far beyond his understanding? Some celestial hand guiding him from beyond the pale? His cloak billowed about him, and he realized it was bitterly cold, despite the seething lava that flowed beneath Fortress Vader.

Soon, he came to a door: squat, geometric, lit by one white light. He could sense that behind it, dark power lurked like a sleeping beast. Even to such a lowly acolyte, this power was overwhelming.

65f518b64f58c5991ba68c86c193d359756e699e.gifv

Then, as if on cue, the door slid open, and Cygnus ushered himself in. And— ah! How sweet the ambrosia of the dark side was!

Before him, silhouetted in perfect profile, was the Empress of the Final Sith Order: the one called Hesper. Her hair was as golden as the dawn, and she was swathed in sanguine silk which could only be likened to the dripping of blood. Her garment spilled languorously from her shoulders and down her legs, the rich fabric sticking to her skin and tumbling onto the ground, laying like a river of crimson across the glossy black floor. She sat in comfortable repose upon a black throne, its tall back distinctly reminiscent of the spires of Vader's castle within which they met. It was placed in the very center of a circular dias, facing towards a wide window; leading to it were two catwalks, one to her right, which Cygnus stood upon now, and one to her left. Upon her shining head was the tangled, thorny black Crown of the Imperatrixa jagged symbol of her inherited power. Her presence was astonishing, raw power radiating from her with unparalleled strength. Cygnus might feel misplaced before her; a sudden, strange, awkward sensation.

Her face was illuminated by the distant flow of molten rock and the light which shone from machines toiling away below the dias, her eyes fixed upon the fields which sprawled on all sides of Fortress Vader. It was then that Cygnus realized what felt so wrong; to approach the Empress of the Sith from the side felt unnatural. Usually sovereigns who sat upon their thrones were approached only from the front, with their sides protected by guards and trusted advisers. But there was no one of such a role in this room. Only the Empress, and Cygnus Luc'idus.

"Kneel," the Empress commanded, her voice filling the air. "Cygnus Luc'idus."


Cygnus— This is the first of the two training threads I have planned for you. This one will be an ongoing RP, where we will engage in IC lessons and tasks. The other thread will be for essay tasks.

Generally, you should finish and post your responses as soon as you are able; let's make it a goal to have RP responses and task replies up within 5 to 10 days. Keep track of your Prestige in your signature here on the forum, and in the Prestige thread in the Facebook as well.

I will not assign hard due dates— please be self-motivated.

Ground Rules and Encouragements:
  1. Please run any new items by me before seeking approval with TC-SC, and we will review your requests together. I trust that you recognize FSO is first and foremost about storytelling, and not about the acquisition of items. Let's ensure you're acquiring items, weapons, and equipment for all the right reasons.
  2. You are encouraged to focus on learning and quality character growth first and foremost. Develop a strong story, and all else will follow when it is right for it to.
  3. You're now the apprentice of the Empress of the Final Sith Order; I expect you to comport yourself as such in all areas of the group.
Your training will now commence! To begin: post your CS here for review, and reply to the above RP. I will post my own CS as well, so you can easily reference it when necessary.

Let's begin!
 
DE5AoviDixlfl1oupYmyqRhAEtknG2sLLQ48o7f0gGbXTEFK9wTS8-9DLO91dnZ4C7Oi2XaoxIaP4NYCiyi35YCCHx-pGVjU4A735yXxRQPaySjIWimq9XMmeg9BsuFyJVaVYa3j


v1pCE_e0Mtsu-hDhPDbhgMfG_j0KDFrM39BkkgyvaPrDEQJHveLhoS8J2gsXaOGrksT1jtFpF_RQaamAYjG8n4MRamSWSok_XQFbupmSPqWx-VgLe6OZ6Swq_rZzF2n9oPDydjVF


- - -

Name: Cygnus Luc’idus

Nicknames/Aliases (optional): The Dreamer (artist name)

Rank: Apprentice
Class: Assassin
House: Tenebris
Age: 23
Sex: Male
Species: Nagai
Homeworld: Nagi
Occupation: Artist
Height: 6’3
Weight: 170 lbs
Personality Type: INTP- T (Logician)

Physical Description: Cygnus like all Nagai is tall, slender, and ghostly pale with stark black hair. He wears his long hair teased up in a wild, unkempt manner. His eyes blaze a shade brighter than most Nagai eyes, they are almost silver, and occasionally gleam unnaturally bright. He typically wears thick black eyeliner to further accent his piercing eyes, and stark black lipstick, coupled with black varnished nails. Cheap silver rings and bangles often adorn his hands and wrists. While he’s openly effeminate regarding cosmetics and jewelry , he puts little effort into his clothing and wears only a skin-tight bodysuit and simple black cloak, both interlayered with electromesh. Around his neck he wears an immense ruby hung from a golden chain. It bears no hidden powers, although he believes it can shield his thoughts from being broadcasted and detected by others, yet this is only a delusion.It is merely a spoil of art smuggling, yet he hopes in time he can imbue it with yet unknown powers. He rarely wears shoes. He bears many scars on his hands, wrists and arms; most of which came from severe psychosis with unintended self harm.


Weapon: A silver-bladed lightsaber with a gently curved hilt . Hemotoxic poison coated throwing needles. Three hand forged Tehk'la blades.
Swiftcut Foil, gift from his sister.

ySbW3FNrnTYaRx22eK9CtccUV_ynpfU03aX9ZaJNyBWsNl99_4CNMqI-t7ZnXb_DJjrDRe6PJSDb4rvA1VgsxfevpkNJaxhyFs8gevUuUy0sNqMZmnTAIlV0IaLggP8pVcsn2lTW


XvncVZ0A1kS8l_DKtyBURpfMGE2kWZ8T4ta-cb-8O9nWK56UzL-d4Tv7Rm2Oiujm-3oX4RlGINpuilPapIIZEjY6bOBSpS44e80tAaMFPrbJTfvNUtlpKGZ-hF5eSBBhEfu0Xidz


Equipment/Vehicle: Rickety but beautifully painted swoop bike. Datapad. Oil paints. Canvases. Sketchbook, pencils, and charcoal. Drawing tablets. Spray paint cans. Parchment bound book of poetry.

Electromesh bodysuit and cloak.

Gas mask, intented for use when using spray point.

Pets (optional): an unnamed raven, trained as a
service animal to help calm him during psychosis episodes, and trained to differicate audible and visual hallucinations.
Reluctantly feeds a gizka named Shipsbane.

Languages: Nagaian, Basic

Description of Abilities: Cygnus’s force abilities are centered heavily upon cloaking, concealment, and attacking the mind of his targets. Several times he’s managed to enter the mind of targets and steal their knowledge but this is not something he has formal training in and cannot command at will. (not currently on the character sheet.) He believes he would make an excellent inquisitor but his most grandiose desires are to break into the very mind of the universe and absorb its secrets. Due to his species he’s incredibly fast, and agile, yet lacks any brute strength.

Strengths: Quick-witted, intelligent, charming when he needs to be, highly artistic, clever, and bound to honor, although he doesn’t yet fully understand what forms his true code of honor. He’s able to mask his mental illness quite well, and as such has strong resilience and self preservation.


Flaws: Deeply fractured psyche, suffers from paranoid schizophrenia, has frequent hallucinations and episodes that blur reality. Occasionally spirals into full-on psychosis, yet isn’t typically violent, as much as he is frightened. Highly distrusting, easily startled, anxious and unpredictable in the face of conflict. Refuses all medication-based treatment for his condition. He typically forgets things he’s recently learned, forcing him to repeat the learning process again and again. Resorts heavily upon steet drugs to get adequate sleep.

Personality: Generally shy and introspective, but confident enough to speak and mingle well in a crowd. He typically doesn’t make much effort to hide his eccentric nature, but goes to great effort to hide his mental instability. He recognizes when he’s overwhelmed and attempts to isolate if possible. He is a man driven by emotion and passion; seeking both a blank stretch of wall to leave his art, and the elusive grasp of power and knowledge.He guards his secrets, talents and weapons closely and never admits to peers he’s an assasin.He’s not shy or ashamed of his homosexuality, but isn’t actively seeking a partner for short or long term.



Relationships/Love Interests (optional):
Single, Demiromatic Homosexual (attracted to men, but rarely desires a relationship and must have an emotional attachment first.)

No close friends, and no longer in contact with his parents, but in close contact with his sister, Deneb.

Theme Song:

Biography:

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” ~Edgar Allan Poe

“Don’t look, don’t look the shadows breathe” - Burn, The Cure



Cygnus retains little memory of his childhood. He knows only that his upbringing was in moderate wealth, and his artistic gifts were encouraged but his parents were cold and stern enough to render him feeling unloved and a burden to others, but he did grow very close to his older sister.

At 17 he was taken for ransom by a gang of Tof’s, and subjected to brutal torture, starvation, beatings and molestation before his parents paid his inheritance to bring him home. The most traumatic of these tortures occurred when he was locked in a room with a decomposing corpse for several days. Shortly after being returned to his family he began to hear voices, and see shadows or objects that were not there, and within a week he spiraled into his first psychosis episode. Mercifully he cannot recall memories of his kidnapping, but unknowingly they factor heavily into his hallucinations.

Now the more he thinks upon his past the more it blends into a shattered haze that is increasingly hard to distinguish between reality and hallucinations. With frequent psychosis episodes apparent quite soon he was unlikely to ever be a functioning member of society, and thus was subjected to deep shame, and ghastly mistreatment in hospitals. But as a Nagai, he refused to dishonor his parents by failing to assimilate so he learned to mask his condition and began selling his artwork. His eccentric, vivid art quickly gained attention within Nagai society, which led him to learn how to earn credits in the trade of art smuggling. Smuggling eventually led him to perform hired killings of petty rival smugglers. Art leads him to new locations within the galaxy, and killing gives him the means by which to travel. Yet there is precious little Cygnus understands about the Skyriver galaxy, or about society outside of Nagi.

Cygnus suffers immensely each day, tormented with hallucinations, and subjected to the whims of disembodied voices. His most common hallucination is a broken mirror, himself reflected in each shard, and every self is distorted and deformed. Yet when he is able to regain stability he presents a calm, collected demeanor, albeit a bit eccentric, but passable enough to blend.

His presence among the Sith is both an accident, and a natural progression. He fell in love for the first time with a male Twi'lek smuggler, who was under an apprenticeship with the Sith. For weeks the presence of his lover soothed his troubled mind, yet the voices and delusions never fully ceased. During the inevitable quarrel that stems from relationships, Cygnus obeyed the voices in his head and drained the knowledge of the Sith lurking within his beloved’s mind. He also discovered that his lover never harborded any attachment to him, and intended to kill him for pleasure once he’d tired of Cygnus’ body.
Reeling with betrayal, disgusted at his beloveds dishonor, Cygnus committed his first true Nagai act of honor and slew him viciously.

For months afterward he suspected Sith, and attempted the same mind tricks, but never succeeded as completely as before. He began to suspect he would need formal training to master the talent at will. He did begin to feel the cracks within others’ minds, and when found the focus to rip open cracks, knowledge held more allure than love. The voices and hallucinations all agreed his elusive code honor was rooted in the pursuit of knowledge.

Weeks ago he found sufficient intel to locate the Sith Academy in the mind of a grief stricken Hapan assassin, who offered no defense to Cygnus’ intrusion. Since then he’s been pouring himself into the Academy and acclimating to Sith culture and history.


Skills (10 points):
Shii-cho: 1
Makashi:1
Augmentation : 1
Force Speed: 1
Telepathy:1
Force Resistance: 1
Force Stealth:1
Force Cloak: 1
Mind Trick: 1
Memory Walk: 1

Tag @corinthia
 

Attachments

  • 1646713243497.png
    1646713243497.png
    24.7 KB · Views: 0
  • 1646713243534.png
    1646713243534.png
    142.8 KB · Views: 0
  • 1646713243403.png
    1646713243403.png
    375.9 KB · Views: 0
  • 1646713243462.png
    1646713243462.png
    777.4 KB · Views: 0
Last edited:
IC: Cygnus Luc’idus
Location: Mustafar


The hyperspace journey proved arduous for Cygnus, something about hyperspace tunnels sent the voice and visions into a frenzy, and he kept clawing at his skin in an attempt to tear off fanged insects he alone saw. But as painful as transportation was, Cygnus did enjoy traveling once his bare feet were again on the planetary surface. He supposed if he’d never been held for ransom by the Tof’s, and had his mind never shattered after the encounter…he never would have discovered this love of travel.

He was supposed to stay on Nagi and honor his parent's wishes. Become an architect. A designer. An inventor. The possibilities of his artistic gifts were boundless. He was supposed to stay firmly in place, shouldering his family into the upper circles of society. He was supposed to deny his heart, take a wife, and bear offspring that would in turn bear him higher up in the circles…

You were the chosen one!

His father's voice repeated endlessly, but as the journey progressed that voice multiplied, and took several other tones. The cry of a heartbroken young man. The sneer of an old woman. The unintelligible roar of a wookie. The Twi Lek lover he’d killed in cold blood because he didn’t truly love Cygnus.

You were…

“I was…but now I am different. I am Sith,” he answered to each voice.

They hissed back in return but he didn’t acknowledge them further.

He’d never rebelled until the fracture of his mind, and he’d never wondered until his psychosis spurred his sister to seek treatments not known in his galaxy. There were no effective treatments in Skyriver either….but there was an intoxicating plethora of planets, cultures, art, and power laid out before him, and perhaps want of knowledge and passion was the only cure he could hope for. Now he was the disheveled embodiment of rebellion, glad the voices, delusions, paranoia, and hallucinations led him to this unknown fate. Glad of every scrap of food, credits, weapons, and shelter he could find for a night just to venture into a new void on the morrow.

Even the hallucinated Star Weird clinging to the window, filling his mind with keening screams did not prevent him from peering out the window the moment the shuttle exited hyperspace and descended to another location he’d never before dreamed. It was a world of stark obsidian, cracked through with endless rivers of lava, running like lifeblood through a planet that was composed of rock, billowing smoke, and ash. He wondered what geological event caused such an unforgiving environment? Perhaps it was a young planet, perhaps it was locked in an unforgiving gravitational tide. He reached vainly for the name of the planet, fearing for a moment that it was lost in the disorganized chatter of his mind….but he could just touch upon the name despite false names the voices attempted to project.

Mustafar. He knew that had to be it, a planet with strong ties to Darth Vader.

The crimson glow of the lava field the interior of the shuttle, the Star Weird, and fanged insects he believed were clawing across his skin faded as reality unveiled itself. And the….power that filled this planet. He’d never felt or imagined anything like it. His heart was pounding with excitement and apprehension. His eyes roved about madly trying to see everything, and his mind burned with both determination and the frightening precipice of the Unknown.

The shuttle zoomed to a great fortress shaped like an obsidian obelisk, perched over a dsrsmrjc volcanic lava flow. He decided whoever designed this fortress must have been a truly passionate artist, smiled not only in their craft but also to shock those that looked upon this fortress with its solemn presence. When the shuttle touched his own and the ramp descended, he was both drawn toward the throbbing heart of this fortress and frightened.

Run!
Walk…quickly, but slowly. Like a fevered snail!
Jump…into the lava!
You were…
Hijack the ship!
…The chosen one!
Lava isn’t as fluid as water. You would plop
down on the surface. Floating!
She’s watching you!
I loved you, Cygnus!

Straight into the lava!

The voices tried to pull him asunder but they weren’t too difficult to ignore. But one sound he’d never heard before rattled in his senses, rhythmic mechanical breathing. His raven fluttered to his shoulder, clicking its beak to help break through the clutter of voices, but while the others faded the terrible breathing remained.

But when he summoned the courage to take the first step, into the ruthless blast of heat and smoke…the rest of the steps came instinctually. Then a blast of freezing air caused his tattered cloak to billow, and disheveled hair to whip across his eyes and gaunt cheeks, and for a brief moment he wished he owned shoes, as the strange bitterness nipped at his filthy soles unpleasantly. His raven growled with displeasure as it ruffled its feathers. This blast of freezing air couldn’t be real, there was simply too much lava to justify it.

His feet carried him into the gleaming fortress, the glossy surfaces were so immaculate for once in his life he felt no urge to leave his marks upon them, and his enraptured delight only mounted as he began to pass glorious relics
and artworks. Of the relics, he found the shard of Darth Vader’s armor the most hypnotic; the thickness, design, and sheer black that struck such terror into the hearts of those that looked ion him. The breathing echoed through his skull kept droning onwards, taking a more mechanical tone. However, the most breathtaking artwork he found was forged from the Empress Hesper’s own hands. They depicted looming monstrous beings which he had no name nor comprehension of, some where humanoid, and others something wholly unrecognizable. He wouldn’t be shocked if one of these eldritch forms manifested as a new hallucination. But the attention to detail, the loving caress of each horrific figure, freed from the bronzium or stone told a story of an artist with a highly trained hand and deep love of her craft.

But he could not tarry in the presence of the precious art, there were shadows standing guard, watching him blazing red eyes and rifles in hand. They stood so still he couldn’t tell if they were real or merely his own demons glaring back at him. His feet carried him onward to a small geometric door. Before it opened he could feel a raw, hypnotic and overwhelming power. This wasn’t merely a few tricks for bending light and shadow, speed and mind games…what lay beyond the door was a being that radiated with the true heart of the dark side.

The doors slid open to reveal the Empress of the Final Sith Order, Hesper. The name spoke grace, wisdom, and sheer strength. Oddly she sat in profile, but at the moment he wasn’t sure why that seemed strange. Rather he was stunned by her aesthetic grandeur, her golden hair gleaming, and graceful form draped in a silk gown that gave the illusion of dripping blood that fell down her shoulders and legs to pool on the mirrored floor. A thorny black crown laid upon her flowing hair. The ebony throne mimicked the tuning fork stylization of the fortress. He could certainly see she possessed stunning beauty, but when he found a woman beautiful it was merely the urge to capture their beauty in art, not to touch or romance them. While she was the very symbol of power, radiance, and triumph, Cygnus felt terribly humble, fractured, and aimless within her presence as his dirty feet guided him across the catwalk and aware his eyeliner was smudged into black shadows. But there was something more than his artfully disheveled appearance and utter lack of experience that felt disconnected from this scene…not necessarily wrong, more like an abstract painting hung in the middle of a gallery of realism, within its right to be there but defying tradition.

She was not facing the front as most monarchs would have done, commanding a sweeping view of the subjects, nor did she have any guards flanking her throne. She was facing the side, her face haloed by the glow of the lava fields


"Kneel," the Empress commanded, her voice stern and thrumming with power. "Cygnus Luc'idus."

Chills pricked his flesh as she said his name. He didn’t know if he was permitted to move to her direct line of sight, but after a moment of hesitation swift obedience from the moment he heard her voice seemed like the best action. Thus he sank low to the floor, kneeled, and bowed his head .

Tag @corinthia
 
Last edited:

corinthia

Administrator
Staff member
Administrator
Immortalis
IC: Imperatrix Hesper
Fortress Vader - Mustafar

The floor rang out with the sound of hollow metal as Cygnus fell to his knees before the Empress of the Sith. The air was heavy with her power, laden with the gravitas which dung to her skin like dark morning dew might cling to a blade of grass. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, not acknowledging Cygnus' presence as he knelt beside the throne; her gaze remained fixed on the expansive lava fields outside of Fortress Vader, her beautiful profile softly illuminated by crimson light.

The silence of the room was deafening. Even the Empress lifting but one pale hand to tuck a stray lock of golden hair behind an ear seemed too loud, the rustling of skin and silk amplified in the wide throne room. And still, she said nothing.

Perhaps Cygnus would begin to feel antsy, nervous to hear what the Imperatrix would say to him at long last. What was playing out within her golden head, beneath that jagged crown of black thorns? What prophecies and oracles had she seen that would shape Cygnus' future in the Sith Empire? And her power to make her divinations reality... whispers of this astonishing gift of hers could be heard in many corners of the Academy on Korriban. Her hand fell to her lap again. Then, softly, she sighed-- a sussurrating sound like wind across sand.

She turned her face to acknowledge Cygnus, and the sight of her sent a jolt down Cygnus' spine. Hers was a porcelain beauty, marred by a shocking, thin, dark scar which stretched from her forehead to jaw, interrupted only by her left eye: it gazed upon Cygnus with a chilling intensity. Opaline, it had no pupil, and seemed to look beyond the physical world, casting its ethereal sight into the realms of the divine and oracular, past, present, and future. Prophetic.

She lifted a hand again and rest her chin in her palm, propping her elbow on the arm of her throne. "Well, well," she said. "The artist assassin." She eyed Cygnus up and down-- there was an odd glimmer in her stare, as if she held an amusing secret. "Tell me, did you see anything you liked on your way in?"

 
Last edited:
IC: Cygnus Luc’idus

The sonorous echo of his knees bending onto steel threatened to rend his skull, the echo refused to stop reverberating, and with each ring a fresh hissing voice manifested to taunt him.

Should have jumped in the lava.
Fool!
Where are you? What the hell are you doing?
She knows…she knows everything! She sees everything…and she sees your worthlessness!

Everyone knows!

The voices crushed him in both Basic and Nagaian, but he refused to let his expression change to reflect this daily distress. She lifted a delicate hand to push a golden tendril of hair behind her ear. Green vines blossomed suddenly under her hand, then the vines bulged from the flesh to burst forth in spurts of blood. He should have heard merely the rustle of hair and silk, yet was subjected to the violent explosion of flesh being torn asunder…yet the Empress Hesper appeared wholly unaffected. From her wrist and her fingers, tiny purple blossoms were unfurling, and creeper vines curled steady into her hair, furling around her thorny crown. It was an otherworldly, impossible sight to behold, even the raven at his shoulder couldn't tell him otherwise. The raven was clicking its beak and fluttering its wings as it picked up on Cygnus’ elevated heart rate and breathing. It attempted in vain to perform its reality affirming duty.

He refused the bird's signals because he was not nearing psychosis. He was merely seeing visions of his own unique quality, seeing reality with eyes most could not understand. Was that what she was doing, gazing out over lava fields? Could she in truth see the future laid gleaming paths as vivid as the lava rivers smoldering outside? There were rumors she possessed such power, but he knew rumor couldn’t be trusted. Perhaps if he was worthy, he might learn an inkling of that power.

She sighed, a sound that tore through his senses with gale force. Then she turned her face to acknowledge him, and the moment sent a jolt of shock racing down his spine. Her face bore all the grace of marble statues standing within palace gardens of Naboo, and the thin scar bisecting that visage from forehead to jaw only accented the fairness of her features. But her left eye….in her left eye Cygnus could see galaxies!
AB5520DE-E291-4510-8517-9C22B2D4935A.jpeg

He saw the blood tinged golden glow of his own galactic home, Firefist. He saw the sprawling electric blue disk of this galaxy; Skyriver. There were endless hues, spirals and rings of galaxies he was unaware of. There were stars, nebulas, the dying gasps of supernovas.

He could only remain kneeling and transfixed; there was little doubt she was an Empress. Vines and violet blooms burst from her flesh, satin as vivid as blood draped her body, and galaxies burned in her left eye; this was the zenith of power as he defined it.

“Well, well," she said, propping her chin under her hand . "The artist assassin." He was unable to discern the meaning behind her facial expression, for he was overwhelmed with such hypnotic hallucinations. "Tell me, did you see anything you liked on your way in?"

Hail Empress Hesper. My…my way in?” he repeated to himself, feeling a jolt of panic upon realizing his memory had failed him again. He’d forgotten how he’d arrived…where he was…how he’d arrived here.

His raven gave a loud caw, an undeniable signal his delusions were distorting his perceptions. The trained call brought back a measure of focus, some of the voices silenced, the Empress Hesper’s left eye was now opaque, devoid of a myriad of galaxies yet still utterly enthralling in its power. Most importantly the ravens signal brought back fragments of memory of the prior moments .

“Yes…” he stammered, grasping vainly for the correct translation of his basic thoughts into Basic. “Many awe inspiring relics, but my eye was drawn to the original pieces. I don’t know what they depict but the attention to detail and emphasis of form is quite beautiful, and visral. The sculptures invoke a feeling I don’t know a Basic translation for. ” he stitched together the answer, his heartbeat and breathing were reeling from the onslaught of hallucations. He couldn’t help these physiological responses but he again strives to keep his expression blank.

Tag @corinthia
 
Last edited:

The Eternal Sith Empire Forums

The Eternal Sith Empire Forums is a new home for one of the largest online Sith roleplaying and fan communities on the internet. We welcome you to join us in discussing lore, socializing, sharing fanart and fanfiction, roleplaying in our vast number of RPGs, and more.

ESE on Facebook

  • The Final Sith Order
  • Help and Resources

  • FAQ
  • Rules
  • TOS
  • Members online

    No members online now.
    Top Bottom