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

[corinthia]

The Lessons and Design of Cygnus Luc'idus

This second training thread will house your non-RP tasks such as research tasks, essay tasks, opinion pieces, etc. These tasks may be IC or OOC; I'll be sure to mark which is which. These tasks will feel a bit like schoolwork, but I'll do my best to make them fun and interesting, and deepen your knowledge of Star Wars lore and history (with a clear focus on the Sith).

Generally, you should finish and post your task replies as soon as you are able; let's make it a goal to have task replies up within 7 to 14 days. I will be posting new tasks every 14 days, on Wednesdays, starting today. Keep track of your Prestige in your signature here on the forum, and in the Prestige thread in the Facebook as well. (Click here for the Facebook Prestige counter)

Let's begin!

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TASK 1 (IC)

Please recite the Sith Code, and explain, line-by-line, what the Sith Code means to you. Then, write your own personalized Sith Code. What did you change, and why is it significant to you? How does it reflect what you believe to be true about the Dark Side and the Sith? How will you use both the original Sith Code and your personalized code to advance your goals?


@Cygnus Luc’idus ​

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

IC: Cygnus Luc’idus
Location: Taris


The Sith Code proved to be far more difficult for Cygnus to master than the average student. Most merely needed to hear another recite it once before they regurgitated it back with pride, but such was the curse of Cygnus’ memory that a two weeks passed before it finally stopped slipping through the sieve of voices and hallucinations. He bore the punches and lashings of the masters at the Academy for his failure, and never let word of his illness slip from his lips. It wasn’t an excuse, merely a massive obstacle to overcome.

He could copy it down on his datapad or physical parchment, but within a few moments he would doubt it’s authenticity, and dismiss it as a hallucation. After all…it was six lines. Six was an imprecise number. The code was a verse to confirm it as reality.

But with enough determination, after weeks of doubt, and challenge, it finally remained within his memory long enough to study. He was quite relieved he was able to recite it when his Master, none other than the Empress Hesper, asked him to recite it, examine it and then make a code of his own.

The task arrived via datapad, and rather than submit the traditional written essay, Cygnus found a burst of inspiration for something a bit different. He took the next transport to Taris. Since he’d struck out on his own he couldn’t help but feel at ease within highly urbanized planets. There were so many species and races that he didn’t feel as exogalactic, so much despair and suffering that his voices and delusions felt greatly mitigated next to the sufferings of others. But best of all were the many challenging platforms in which he could scale and leave his mark.

He was fond of Taris as it wasn’t terribly overpopulated, and there were plenty of surfaces left unpainted. What most citizens didn’t realize was that the lights and utilities that cause metropolis to glow had to be serviced and maintained, and such seemingly impossible places had unnoticed access points, and thus could bear the marks of an daring artist. Cygnus’ hunt for the perfect expanse to examine the Sith code began first by scaling the pipes and cables of a seven story duracrete building, a feat trained humans could do, but was second nature to the agile, swift Nagai. When he reached the rusted roof, he made a running leap toward a decaying brick wall, and kicked off its surface to give him the momentum he needed to spring upwards and catch hold of a rickety, badly dilapidated fire escape. The fragile railing needed exact handling to ascend, and there here a few times even Cygnus doubted the stability, but after an arduously slow climb he pulled himself onto another roof. Directly across from it was one of the iconic doomed spires loomed before him, it’s glass shimmering in the setting sun. There was a eight inch concrete ledge encircling this pale dome, not leaving him much room to work, but he’d worked on far more precarious areas. There were two white washed panels of bare duracrete which would become his canvas. He made a carefully measured leap from the roof to the narrow ledge. The ledges’ existence was meant to service lights and nothing more, to most beings standing on this precipice should have been a fevered nightmare . The act of balancing, and even feeling comfortable came easily to the Nagai, when he looked down he didn’t feel the terrible vertigo most beings might feel. But the voices echoed terribly….

Just glance over a bit more…
Jump! Jump into the light!
Release me!
Jump!
Swan dive…literally, isn’t that your name in Basic? The Swan?
Don’t disappoint…
Peace is a lie….

“Right….the code. That’s why I am here.” he said only to himself or perhaps the raven that perched across from him. He noted two metal brackets to his right, places where maintenance workers would place safety riggings. Cygnus possessed no safety equipment, nor did he have any desire for it, but the brackets did have their purpose. He pulled out a battered russack from under his cloak, rummaged the pockets in search of his datapad, and balanced it gingerly on the brackets and hit record.

Usually when planning such a large mural he’d wear his stained gas mask, but his Master had instructed him to speak and explain the code, so he would have to forgo that protection. He didn’t want to sound muffled on his first formal task.

“Peace is lie, there is only passion.” he recited as he pulled out yellow and orange cans of spray paint from his russack, and began to trace the outline of a distorted flame in the center of the white washed panel, and added hazy flames along the bottom section.

“Peace is but a fleeting dream, a curl of smoke curling from a blazing inferno. Peace is not the natural state of the universe, there is always change, death, decay, transformation. Nothing is static, everything is changing. Peace is not a state of mind I have much experience with. From the constant unrest of the Nagai civilization, to the voices telling me to jump off this ledge, and the delusions that tell me I could survive it. I don’t have much experience with peace.

Passion is the force which drives those weary or discarded by the illusions of peace. Passion is the fires of creativity that smoulders within my soul, it is the paint upon a canvas. It is the stirring of lust, and the desire to explore that lust, be it for a fleeting affection or a fleeting carnal urge. It is the pounding of a hammer that forges a blade, it is the desire to see that blade releasing rivers of blood. Passion is the reason to wake, to survive, to claw one’s way into another day.”

He set down the yellow and orange, and seized scarlet red, and in erratic, frenzied lines enhanced the raw brightness of the abstracted flame, added fuel to the kindling, strengthening the flame's form and adding to its intensity. Using broad, sweeping strokes he filled large swatches of the white panel.

“Through passion, I gain strength.'' He moved on to the next line of code, grateful for the luxury of memory.

“When one gives into passions, be it the call of art, the surrender to lust, the forging of a blade or releasing the flow of blood from an enemy, they are granted strength. From surrender to sentinant nature, to take what we desire either by guide or by force, we add fuel to flame. We become the manifestation of strength. We feel our power, attunement and confidence begin to heighten.”

He next retrieved a deep crimson red canister and began to add more broad sweeping lines that filled the unconventional canva, bringing the flames in the center into brighter contrast, as well as the ones in background. He used short, seemingly erratic but in truth calculated sweeps, as a result the piece looked almost as if it were created with oil paints and brush rather than an aerosol can. Giving this illusion was something Cygnus mastered quickly once he began his more deviant artistic endeavors.

“Through strength, I gain power” he intoned, “With the manifestation of the confidence of strength comes the natural progression of power. One gains power through lessons learned,tasks and missions completed , duels either won or lost, but lost with the knowledge of where they must improve. Power is taking talent within the Force and shaping it with a sculptor's chisel, refining it, bringing its form into manifestation. Power is the ability to look upon a lesser life form and know it’s within your choice to spare its existence or snuff it out, and power is looking upon a greater life form and challenging it.”

Cygnus then took a can of jet black spray paint and began to sweep it in a sharp downturning angle, but what form he was intending to portray was not clear at first sight.

“Through power, I gain victory.” Cygnus chanted, “Power, however you define it….confidence, skill, luck, knowledge, brutality, wit or courage shall lead to victory. Maybe not the first time, but so long as you draw breath, you hold power. You can strike again and again, refine your calculations until you are victorious. True embodiment of power, and patience, will inevitably lead to victory.”

The black angle took a more reconcilable shape. A black wing complete with feathers ensnared in the flame….or was it sitting upon the flame, basking in its warmth? Of rising from the flames, born anew? Cygnus didn’t have a definitive answer to any of these questions, the art must be unique to the viewer.

“Though victory, my chains are broken!” Cygnus almost shouted in fervor, but was lucid enough to recall he was certainly not allowed to be up here, painting this homage to Sith ideals, although it possessed none of the traditional Sith iconography. Therefore he didn’t shout as loudly as he truly felt.

“In passion, strength, and power, and victory, the shackles of peace, serenity, obligation, and bondage to the light are broken. Free will is obtained, and the enthropic nature of the universe is embraced. For me, a broken chain is merely a delusion which I have embraced and manifested as a reality. A broken chain is a canvas that never runs out, paint that replenishes itself, and a blade that doesn’t make a single vibrational sound and never needs a whetstone.”

He placed the finishing touches on the painting with each previously used color. Adding a barely visible second wing, a beak and eyes wreathed within the scorching flames, reds that might have been scorched flesh…or might have been an ember fueled rebirth. The result was a highly abstracted piece that screamed of passion, emotion, strength and pain, and ultimately victory. The fevered stokes of his hand rendering a piece that looked as though it were painted rather than any traditional street art.

“The Force shall set me free! This painting is my expression of the final line of the Sith code. In torment, strife, pain and fury….we are reborn. Freed. What we become after that rebirth is different to each.”

He reached over and clicked off the recording, carefully turned around to face the sprawling metropolis, rested his back against the wall and lit a sickly sweet clove cigarette in celebration of the first half of his work and to contemplate the second portion. The Sith Code had worked well enough for millennia, he couldn’t think of what changes he would make to it when he was still so naive and untrained. But as he pulled drags off the cigarette, and watched his raven shuffling about, seeking an easy meal, the first vestiges of an idea came, but first came its image. His own iconography, a representation of the subtle way he felt the Force. He never felt the Force manifest as a physical fire, nor as sparks nor as ice…it was simply shadow. And shadow was wholly its own element. Shadow was the natural order of the universe.

After he flicked the smoldering butt of the cigarette off the precipice, he carefully edged back to the datapad and tapped the record button once again. This time he did not speak, and instead began to paint the second empty panel.

He first chose a soft grey background as the base pigment, and then divided the piece into horizontal halves. He began from the bottom and worked his way meticulously upward, starting with a pitch black base and shifting gradually to indigo. Without need for any stencils, he carefully left a blank white orb in the center. He then began to shift carefully between three different colors as he worked his way upward, creating a pixelated gradient. Grey, cyan, and tan.
“I am the Shadow….” he muttered as he worked. “There is no reality….only decay….”

He would know…how many others witnessed their own sanity fracture and never again heal? How many others found the determination to keep on living in this fevered torment? He wagered the number was not high.

He gave the white orb a fresh coat of white but left the upper limb of the orb alone and gingerly traced grey splotches for craters, indicating the most common moon in the universe, empty and lifeless places that were lumincent at night but otherwise merely dead satellites of their planets.

In the upper half of the painting he traced the outline of a raven in mid flight with such comfortable and practiced movements he again had no need for a stencil. “I am the dreamer…creator and destructor…in passion I manifest…” he chanted as he defined the raven's feathers.

“In victory…I dismantle…” he uttered, and gingerly sprayed pixelated tans, indigos and blacks lifting from the darkness below the raven, as if the shadowy reality below were coming slowly undone. He then began to form a complex border around the image, again pixelated and of many varying colors. Black, tan, cyan, grey, black indigo…

“ From the claws of darkness….the chains of the mind shatter…”

Finally he leaned away carefully to examine his work, an inky raven born from the shadowy depths below. Perhaps this was the same bird depicted in the chaos of his first painting, renewed and soaring on the winds of victory and freedom. Again Cygnus hoped the viewers would draw their own conclusions.

He then repeated his altered code in full.

“I am the Shadow.
There is no reality, only decay.
There is no delusion…
I am the dreamer, creator and the destructor.
In passion, I manifest and in victory I dismantle.
From the claws of darkness, the chains of the mind shatter.
I am the Shadow.”

“My Empress and Master, I changed quite a bit from the original code. While the original code is a solid mantra that’s served the Sith will well for eons, it strikes me as a thing of fire, aggression and raw power. A tenant in which a warrior or sorcerer would easily take strength from, but it lacks the subtlety of an assassins creed.

“I inserted affirming statements such as, “I am the Shadow.” to better manifest what I hope to become. A being lurking unseen and forgotten, until the moment is right. My perception of reality changes so frequently, all I know to be true is decay and entropy. When I accept that truth, I am no longer delusional. I become the creator and destructor, as it’s my goal to master the minds and perceptions of others. The tools in which I feel will aid me are the same, passion which naturally leads to victory. And from my own agony, my own suffering, I alone can break my chains. The self actualization I desire most is to be the Shadow.

What the Shadow means to me is the being that is underestimated, blending out of sight and out of perception, until I deem the right moment in which I desire to strike, to attempt to shatter everything from a rival's guard to the very infrastructure of the universe if I deemed it flawed and unworthy.

The changes in the code better reflect what seems to be my unique perspective of existence, and validates the power of hallucination and delusion. It embraces that there is more to the Dark Side than raw aggression, there is also introspection, and perception. My code is also seven lines, seven is the number of truth, of completion. The image I have created in conjugation with this code also reflects this inspiration, a raven rising up from darkness, perhaps from the ashes of the previous painting, soaring confidently and released from the agony of rebirth.

I suspect when I am facing a challenge, a defeat or barrer in my training, I shall refer to both of these codes. The original shall be the fuels of a cathartic fire, and my own, a refined, calm and collected affirmation of who and what I desire to be.”

He ended the recording and with baited breath, inched over the precarusly perched datapad and sent the video
to the Empress Hesper. He hoped he’d
showed her his ambition differed from other Sith, and hoped she would find this project inspired.

He wanted another cigarette, but the beam of a search light began to sweep across the iconic arches of Taris, apparently his art was already noticed and they were searching for the so-called vandal . He carefully crouched down, and stuffed the canisters of spray paint and datapad into his bag, and called upon the Force to conceal him from sight and shroud his footsteps.

After the searchlight swept across his fresh art, but failed to find him…he surrendered to the fresh chatter of voices and leapt from the ledge. But not in a magnificent sacrificial swan dive…but a calculated leap to the roof he’s used to access this point. He was nothing more than heat haze and perhaps a faint shadow.

Tag @corinthia

Art Credits: SaatchiArt. Hover Over, Greg Kosa

 

[corinthia]

You've done a most excellent job going above and beyond, apprentice. For your stellar explanation of the original code, I award +2 Prestige; and for your personalized rendition I award +2 Prestige.

For bonus prestige, indicate which "passionate" emotion most drives Cygnus (e.g., anger, hatred, bloodlust, etc.). Then explain, OOC, how this emotion is crucial to Cygnus' personality, neuroses, and backstory. Think about how this emotion could be used as a tool for character growth, and write a few sentences describing a possible story arc Cygnus could take to confront/resolve/complicate this emotion. This is a what-if scenario!

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TASK 2 (OOC)

Choose three Sith from galactic history (Canon or Legends); summarize the life of each, highlighting their successes and failures, and explain why you believe they were instrumental in furthering the Sith agenda. What were their most important accomplishments? What could they have done differently in their lives to effect a different outcome for their goals?

Of these three Sith, which do you feel most closely resembles Cygnus, OR, which one would you like for Cygnus to emulate? Why?​

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

OOC:
The passionate emotion that drives Cygnus’ furtive actions would be the steel of determination. Anger, hatred and bloodlust are the most common answers to this question, and they can certainly manifest in Cygnus in the right conditions, yet his greatest strength is quiet, solid determination.

He is urged to understand his powers and the largely unexplored darkness within him, and firmly resolved to succeed despite his flaws and weaknesses. He doesn’t define success as grandiose weapons, throne worlds, or fleets, but rather as knowledge, confidence, courage and mastery over the more subtle uses of the Force.

Be it to complete the next piece of art, or to rise in rank, Cygnus possesses a steely resolve, and a quiet will. This endurance is something he had to learn swiftly after the rapid onset of schizophrenia at age 17. The first psychosis happened with little warning and very violently, but in time he regained enough lucidity to know that he was going to have to live with his condition. The only option for relief was to be heavily medicated, sedated, and a leech upon his family. Being imprisoned and drugged under the guise of psychiatric care was not a life he could find any passion within, thus he chose to embrace ultimate freedom, and his illness, and follow wherever the voices guided him. At first his determination was to learn how to assimilate into society, and what advantages schizophrenia might have for him. Upon reflection this acceptance was likely his first step into embracing the creed “Peace is a lie, there is only passion” With sheer grit he stepped out into a galaxy that was alien to him, and adapted to both homeliness and insanity, and it's a decision he's content with. His delusions occasionally manifest into grandiose territory. And when he feels called to a destiny, he can become hyper focused into manifesting that destiny. I am contemplating Cygnus possibly finding future talent for Shatterpoints, and premonitions. In essence hallucations could serve as precursors for premonitions, this wouldn’t cure his illness, but rather aid him in channeling it.

It is my desire that Cygnus becomes a success story of conquering both IC and OOC mental illnesses.

What If…
Cygnus challenged Darth Nihl!

Cygnus had not uttered a word to acknowledge the natural rivalry between himself and the legendary Nagai. He never told his rivals his intentions, and in truth the distant legend didn’t even acknowledge his existence. Exactly how Cygnus wanted it.

But the voices…the…visions!

Those delirious snapshots of himself becoming legendary…of being the first name the Sith thought of when they imagined the Nagai! Cygnus followed those beautiful delusions until the moment manifested before him with undeniable reality. It took many years of
sheer determination to study Nihl, yet remain out of sight. Agonizing years of only emptiness, and bitter pride and jealousy fueling Cygnus’ roiling heart before he began to spot weaknesses, points in which even a legend may shatter.

He found the Nagai Sith in a moment of despair, vulnerable and unguarded, staring blankly at a majestic body of water. Nihl was awash with a brief weakness which Cygnus’ relentless willpower lead him to witnessing at the perfect moment. It was a patience brought with years of study and trusting in premonition, and sensing how everything fractured.

An immense bird lifted into the air, the graceful form was a snowy white swan which certainly wasn’t a daily sight. The ripples from the lake spread out in a series of seven rings.

Seven!
The number of reality!

Darth Nihl glanced absently at the departing bird, and in that singular moment the concealed Cygnus focused on the shatterpoints that now illuminated Darth Nihl. In the manner of Nagai, Cygnus did not ignite his lightsaber, rather he withdrew a silent Tehk’la blade from a sheathe at his wrist, and aimed it at the brightest shatter point, a small flaw in his armor.

Cygnus never announced his presence, nor gloated his intentions. A legend would fall without ever knowing who’d lurked in his shadow, waiting for the precise moment to strike. His beloved blade streaked from his hand.

Tag: @corinthia

I should have other part of this task done in about a week.

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

Task Two:
Three Legendary Sith

OOC:

For this task, I shall be pushing past the confines of comfort; and step away from the familiar faces of Darth Traya and Darth Nihilus, both of which Cygnus takes no true inspiration from. I shall venture into examining three Sith I have come to admire in my time with this group but haven’t mentioned in previous tasks ; Exar Kun, Darth Zannah, and Darth Nihl.

I shall begin with Exar Kun, one of the most formidable members of the Sith order. Kun, like all Jedi at the time, was taken as a child trained on Dantooine by Master Vodo-Solisk Baas.He showed great ambition, talent and masterful lightsaber combat, and also great pride and arrogance. He desired to know the teachings of the Sith purely for ambition and curiosity, but didn’t possess the will to join, which isn’t uncommon. For many of the legendary Sith the pull of the Dark Side is a gradual path. In 3997 BBY, he viewed a holocron which he first heard the name Freedon Nadd; another legendary Sith.

Following the call to the Dark Side he traveled to Onderon he eventually assimilated into Iziz and found outcast Naddist’s who led him to the Tomb of Freedon Nadd on Dxun. After facing immense dangers of the wild moon and finding the power crack open Mandalorian forged steel, he first encountered the spirit of the Dark Lord Freedon Nadd, who asked him to remove his corpse. Under the desiccated remains, were scrolls which detailed that the home of the Sith could be found on Korriban. Thus was Kun’s next destination where he again encountered the spirit of Nadd. As he was drawn into ancient temples Kun began to feel doubts about this curiosity, and tried to turn back but fate was decided for him when a rock slide trapped him. Forced to proceed, he was lured by a crystal that held the spirits of the conquered Jedi Masters, but within moments of this discovery Nadd released a blast of Dark Side energy that brought the temple collapsing atop him. Nadd taunted that only complete surrender to the Dark Side would Kun be able to survive his terrible injuries. With no hope for aid, Kun accepted and was granted Dark Side Healing by Nadd’s spirit. Despite being granted this boon, Kun refused to call a Sith nor succumb wholly to the Dark Side, so Nadd tormented him with a pack of Tuk’ata. Stripped of his lightsaber, and unable to feel the light side of the Force, Kun called upon the Dark Side to slay the beasts. After departing Korriban, hardened, corrupted yet vainly clinging to Jedi ideals, he traveled to Yavin 4, yearning for more power. There he was captured and offered as a sacrifice by Massassi on Yavin V. Using a talisman within the room he focused his untapped Dark Side power, and at last fully embraced it. He destroyed a Sith Wyrm, and then used the same talisman to destroy the oppressive spirit of Freedon Nadd. Now embracing his new found Sith knowledge and free of the machinations of Nadd, he grew formidable on Yavin V by mastering Naga Sadow’s alchemy. He went onward to create many iconic Sith creatures, most notable is the Terentatek.

After leaving Yavin 4 Kun attempted to vanquish Ulic Qel- Droma, a similar fallen Jedi, but the amulet that previously saved him possessed a twin worn by Qel-Droma. As they dueled it was clear there would be no clear victory, but the power of the dyad amulets summoned the spirit of the mighty lord Marka Ragnos. Ragnos deemed them both worthy Sith, and named Kun a Dark Lord, and received the brand of a Dark Lord upon his forehead. Droma was named as Kun’ apprentice, and they united with desire to bring the galaxy under their control, thus planting the seeds for the Great Sith War.

Both began to build armies and forces to launch an attack on the Republic, Qel-Droma amassed an impressive army after defeating Mandalore the Indomitable , but Kun crushed a Sith holocron which deeply affected 19 Jedi from Ossus and turned them to the Dark Side, thus forming a Brotherhood of the Sith. Things devolved to constant conflict between Master and apprentice on how to attack the Republic which caused rifts and weaknesses in their conquest. Qel-Droma’s attack on the Republic failed, and led to his capture. Kun boldly reclaimed his apprentice using Force Stairs to paralyze the Senate, and usurp Supreme Chancellor Sideon’s mind before killing him. The brazen attack left the Republic in shambles, and using his newly modified double bladed lightsaber Kun also killed his former Jedi Master. However his ties to Qel-Droma would prove disastrous in time. After the Sith apprentice slew his brother in rage, he became so remorseful he begged for aid and as such was stripped from his connection to the Force. Soon enough the redeemed Qel-Droma led a Jedi resistance numbering in the thousands against Kun. On Yavin 4, Kun knew he was cornered, for all his might he could not possibly withstand the attack of thousands of Jedi. As such he resorted to drastic measures and in an arcane ritual he ritually sacrificed his Massassi warriors within his temple to ascend to immortality. The ritual worked and near totally decimated the surface of Yavin 4, but while Kun’s body was destroyed, his spirit remained, yet was bound to the temple. On Yavin 4, Kun’s spirit lingered for thousands of years until Luke Skywalker founded the New Jedi Order .In much the same manner of Freedon Nadd his influence swayed and possessed a young boy with troubled past named Kyp Durron into defying the Jedi. Kun’s power was so great that he was able to successfully attack and gravely wound Luke Skywalker, but when the students of the new Jedi Order, and the spirit of Kun’s former master banded together the Dark Lord’s spirit was cast into oblivion.

Exar Kun contributed many legendary pieces of Sith history. He mastered powers that risked falling into obscurity, gave us weapons and beasts which are highly revered to this day. The actions of this Great Sith War would in turn push the prices into the place for the infamous Second Sith War lead by Revan and Malak. But Kun indeed has his weaknesses, the largest of which was pride and arrogance, he mastered many ancient powers, yet his final act while having a flesh form was hastily researched and untested. He was capable of making cold, calculated strikes but more often than not would fly into raw rage. He often underestimated others, especially the bond which Jedi can form and use to defend themselves and those of their order. Exar Kun would have benefited greatly if he’d formed more solid alliances with others beside Qel-Droma, at least feigned respect for others besides himself and took to heart the downfall in underestimating others.

Moving onwards, we skip thousands of years to the fall of Kaan’s Brotherhood of Darkness. To Rain, also known as Darth Zannah. Darth Zannah was a human born in 1010 BBY, and was Darth Bane’s chosen apprentice to herald the Banite Legacy which held rather firmly until the fall of Darth Vader.

Zannah was originally recruited to join the Army of Light, but her transport was shot down. As a result she never met, and was never corrupted by either the Brotherhood of Darkness or the Army of Light. She was chosen by Bame for her youth, her raw power and was unsullied by any previous teachings.Bane discovered her shortly after the Thought Bomb, standing over the bodies of two Jedi which she’d killed in rage. Zannah swiftly showed talent, ferocity , and intelligence, as well as a quiet seething patience. She quickly developed a seething hatred for Bane, yet was clever and determined enough to cast it aside in order to gain all his power and knowledge. Zannah quickly devoloped her own moral compass, questioning as to why Bane would leave survivors, but sparing her own cousin Darorvit save for maiming his hand.

Zannah’s first test was brutal, to find her way off Ruusan and to Onderon without Bane’s aid. This test cemented her loathing for her Master, but indeed proved her resourcefulness. She was also faced with the choice to serve the Republic or honor her commitment to Bane. Ultimately she remembered the first line of the Jedi code, that the peace the Republic promised was a lie.She killed the crew and hijacked her rescue ship, and met Bane on Onderon, and fully embraced her role as a Sith apprentice.

The beginning of her training occurred on Ambria, where she quickly became both a proficient sorcerer and masterful infiltrator. He was relentless in testing her, causing her emotional pain and teaching her the value of manipulation and attachment. In her teenage years she began to show masterful Sith sorcery which Bane confessed inability to understand, much of her spells and abilities she learned from the holocron of Freedon Nadd, which Bane had stolen but could not master. She possessed many mind centered attacks, able to conjure a madness so complete she once convinced another to gouge out their own eyes. She was so adept at camouflage she even learned False Light Side Aura.

As Bane was rendered far to obvious by the plague of Orbalisk that infected his body, he was forced to rely on Zannah to be both a spy and embodiment of the Sith presence in the galaxy, which he wished to remain cloaked but not forgotten.On one occasion she was recognized as a Sith by a man named Hetton, who claimed he has information on creating Sith holocrons, lost lore which to Bane’s rage, he’s been unable to replicated. Zannah falsely claimed him as an apprentice merely
to obtain Hetton’s secrets. After a confrontation that almost resulted in Zannah’s death, she confessed she’d only sought the datacard that gave directions to Tython, where the instructions for how to build a holocron could be found.

During a carefully planned mission to Coursicant for information regarding orbalisks, Zannah encountered her cousin once again, a shock which broke her fierce resolve. She took the information she sought, kidnapped her cousin and took him to Tython.They were followed by the Jedi an fierce battle ensued in which Bane was grievously wounded, and his orbalisks turned on him, rendering him near death. Zannah had yet to learn all his secrets and thus made a deal with the Jedi to heal him, and shed him of the orbalisks to extend her apprenticeship, a deal in which she swiftly altered once the healing occurred.

Zannah’s training was lengthy but she insured she learned all she could from him and waited for the proper moment to challenge Bane, well after he’d shed his orbalisk armor. She challenged him on Ambria to a final duel, Zannah was unable to match his physical prowess but was fearsome with her use of sorcery and mind attacks. She used the nexus of Ambria to summon Dark Side Tendrils which severely wounded Bane and in a last effort Bane seized her left wrist attempting essence transfer. The battle of the wills was fierce and equally matched for a time but Zannah’s willpower overcome Bane’s. He failed, and his sprit was cast into the the void, the only vestige of him remaining was spasm in Zannah’s left hand. She took Cognus for her apprentice, and the rule of Two continued.

Zannah is a rather overlooked Sith Lord, typically most attribute the success of the rule of two to Bane, but she proved to be the worthy apprentice that saw to its spread and successfully followed it . She is often shadowed by Bane’s fearsome demeanor, but she owned the shadows with her patience and calm collected demeanor. Bane’s downfall was his pride and ego; and Zannah’s strength was patience and cunning. The only major weakness I personally found in her was a lingering attachment to her cousin, but even that she overcame. She was a bit prone to
from attachments but just was swift tk dismiss them when the time was right. Zannah was a pivotal Sith which continued the practices which ultimately lead to Darth Sidious. There is little I personally would change of Zannah’s story, as she lived in passion, rage, and took calculated strikes, and thus was the ideal embodiment of the Rule of Two.

Lastly I shall give an overview of Darth Nihl. Nihl’s native name is unknown, but was born on Nagi, and was a celebrated warlord and raider. It’s possible for Cygnus to have heard tales about his conquests prior to serving Darth Krayt. Nihl was discovered by Krayt as he began to rebuild the shattered Sith under the rule of One. A vital part of his training was the Yuuzhan Vong “Embrace of Pain” which unleashed a murderous madness within Nihl. Nihl first served as Krayt’s Fist but by 130 ABY, was promoted as his Hand. His first major mission laid an assault and ruthless massacre on the Jedi Praxium on Ossus, and where he used Force Lightning to kill Jedi Master Kol Skywalker, father to Cade Skywalker. This slaying would later prove disastrous for Nihl, and the One Sith, as Cade Skywalker became obsessed with vengeance.

For seven years Nihl served as Krayt's fierce enforcer, time and time again proving his loyalty and devotion, until Darth Talon was also promoted as secondary Hand. Nihl crossed paths with Cade Skywalker several times , and eventually captured him as he attempted to infiltrate the Temple of the Sith on Coruscant. Krayt attempted to turn Cade to the Dark Side, to Nihl’s disgust, who desired nothing more than to kill the boy. But Krayt’s orders were firm, Cade was to be spared and although the matter Cade Skywalker became a source of immense tension for Nihl, he did not defy orders.

Cade gave the illusion of submitting to the Sith but in truth his mind didn’t falter and he was biding him time . When Skywalker escaped, both Krayt’s Hands were dispatched to deal with him, but Darth Talon was swiftly stabbed in the abdomen and in the ensuing duel, he greatly underestimated Cade, suffered betrayal at the hands of Krayt who stirred Cade’s hatred of Nihl. In Cade’s fury Nihl lost his right arm, and was almost killed. After the crushing defeat Nihl was stripped of his title as Hand, and forced to endure horrendous Vong experiments under Darth Maladi.

After Darth Krayt was assassinated on Had Abbandon, Nihl searched for the truth of his demise yet death was only a passing state for Krayt. He was able to resurrect himself through Dark Transfer. However Krayt’s resurrection would proof short-lived, in 138 ABY Cade Skywalker defeated Krayt on Coruscant, and this time his death was final and undeniable. Leadership passed to Nihl who ordered a total retreat of the Sith, to reorganize, infiltrate as many worlds as they could, and strike from the shadows.

Nihl lives to this day (or does at the time of writing) having sired a child that would grow to be Darth Nathemus, and currently serves Darth Viscretus. While he cannot claim as many legendary feats such as Exar Kun and Zannah, he possesses a formidable willpower that helped ensure the Sith’s survival.Nihl’s weaknesses are clearly his ego, pride and underestimating others, he was also loyal to a fault to Krayt, many of his predecessor Sith would have challenged Krayt for supremacy, and if he’d showed a bit more aptitude for sorcery and willingness to rebel Nihl might have been able to defeat Krayt. He isn’t the most cunning nor even the most influential of Sith’s but possessed strong will and unwavering loyalty, he laid the foundations of the Sith in the current state.

Each of these Sith has an appeal to Cygnus, Exar Kun for his ambition and sheer might. Darth Zannah for her silent, refined cunning and skilled deceptions, and Nihl largely for his species. Exar Kun Cygnus couldn’t hope to channel, as he is not built for sorcery, but he does draw inspiration from his might. Darth Nihl Cygnus actually finds very little inspiration in, thinks his aesthetic is imperfect and would even deem him as a dishonored Nagai, yet would acknowledge his importance to Sith history. It is Darth Zannah who Cygnus most admires, and wishes to learn her strengths, both her calculated cunning and mind attacks. There isn’t a Sith in which Cygnus emulates step by step, but I suspect as he grows into his power, these are the sources in which he shall draw his strength.

Tag @corinthia

 

[corinthia]

I am quite embarrassed to have forgotten to update your tasks in a number of weeks! To make up for it, here are tasks 3, 4, and 5; don't rush to finish them, take your time. Just wanted to get them up for you.

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For your stalwart patience and excellent work on your most recent task, I award 8 Prestige.

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TASK 3 (IC)

Below is provided an edited list of questions taken from a 100-Question character exercise (I've removed a handful of irrelevant ones); take your time to answer them as Aralia. Think about the implications of your answers, and how things about Aralia's past and personality can come into play in future stories.

Since you're also working on your CS this week, I'd like you to work on the one you posted to our RP training thread. Spend time working on formatting, adding art and such, and choose and attach a song which you feel best represents Aralia, or is an inspiration for you when writing her.

The Questions

Part 1: The Basics

1. What is your full name?

2. Where and when were you born?

3. Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

4. Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

5. Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

6. What is your occupation?

7. Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

9. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

10. Are you right- or left-handed?

11. What does your voice sound like?

12. What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

13. What do you have in your pockets?

14. Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?


Part 2: Growing Up

15. How would you describe your childhood in general?

16. What is your earliest memory?

17. How much schooling have you had?

18. Did you enjoy school?

19. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

20. While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

21. While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

22. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

23. As a child, what were your favorite activities?

24. As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

25. As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

26. When and with whom was your first kiss?

27. Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

28. Tell the story of how you first learned of your Force abilities.


Part 3: Past Influences

29. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

30. Who has had the most influence on you?

31. What do you consider your greatest achievement?

32. What is your greatest regret?

33. What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

34. Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

35. When was the time you were the most frightened?

36. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

37. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

38. What is your best memory?

39. What is your worst memory?


Part 4: Beliefs And Opinions

40. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

41. What is your greatest fear?

42. What are your religious views?

45. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

46. In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

47. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

48. What do you believe makes a successful life?

49. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

50. Do you have any biases or prejudices?

51. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

52. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?


Part 5: Relationships With Others

53. In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

54. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

55. Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

56. Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

57. Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

58. Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

59. What do you look for in a potential lover?

60. How close are you to your family?

61. Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

62. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

63. Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

64. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

65. Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

66. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

67. Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

68. Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

69. Do you care what others think of you?


Part 6: Likes And Dislikes

70. What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?

71. What is your most treasured possession?

72. What is your favorite color?

73. What is your favorite food?

74. What, if anything, do you like to read?

75. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?

76. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

77. How do you spend a typical Centaxday (Saturday) night?

78. What makes you laugh?

79. What, if anything, shocks or offends you?

80. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

81. How do you deal with stress?

82. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

83. What are your pet peeves?


Part 7: Self Images And Etc.

84. Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

85. What is your greatest strength as a person?

86. What is your greatest weakness?

87. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

88. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

89. Are you generally organized or messy?

90. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

91. Do you like yourself?

92. What are your reasons for being a Sith? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)

93. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

94. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

95. If you could choose, how would you want to die?

96. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

97. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

98. What three words best describe your personality?

99. What three words would others probably use to describe you?

100. If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…)

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TASK 4 (OOC)

Choose two to three female Sith from throughout galactic history; describe why their accomplishments and philosophies set them apart from their male contemporaries, and what legacies they left behind. Do you think their effect would have been different had they not been women?

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TASK 5 (IC)

Design for yourself the perfect foil to your powers, skills, and idiosyncrasies. What would your ultimate Achilles' Heel look like? Describe a potential scenario in which Cygnus faces off against this foil.

​

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

Task 3: 100 Questions

Part 1: The Basics
1. What is your full name?
Cygnus Arcturus Luc’idus

2. Where and when were you born?
23 years ago on Nagi, in a moderately populated city.

3. Who are/were your parents?
Lacerta Lyra and Sirius Luc’idus, both were mildly successful engineers, and both still alive.

4. Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
I have an older sister, Deneb, and she’s a wonderfully compassionate soul. We talk frequently, yet we don’t always agree. She’s the only one who cares for me when I am ill.

5. Where do you live now, and with whom?
I tend to spent most of my time on Taris, I find I crave an active life, and find survival easier in an urban setting, where I can steal, smuggle and kill if needed. I usually sleep in the streets. This doesn’t bother me, I am used to it, and tend to prefer it.

6. What is your occupation? Artist/Smuggler/Drug Dealer

7. Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

I am 6’3, and very slender as is typical for a Nagai. As far as usual Nagai traits I am no different from the rest of my race, but as for my defining style I dress in a manner that the Sky River galaxy might call Goth/Edgelord. I wear a traditional electomesh suits and heavy black robes. I have pointed ears that are heavily pierced, lips painted black and bright silver colored eyes that are always ringed with black eyeliner. My black hair is worn teased up in a wild nest. I have very deep scars on my forearms; results of hallucinations in which I took my blade to my own flesh, not intentional self harm. There are smaller scars across my hands from working with artistic media. I usually wear rings, and necklaces, have my nails painted black and always have a cigarette on me.

8. To which social class do you belong?
I was born into a mid-tier circle but now I am quite a lowly street urchin, largely out of choice.

9. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?
Physically I am in the prime of health, apart from finding sleep extremely elusive.

10. Are you right- or left-handed? Ambidextrous

11. What does your voice sound like?
Many call it clear and musical. even hypnotic, a common Nagai trait.

12. What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?
“Come here, bird”
“That doesn’t fit my aesthetic”


13. What do you have in your pockets?
Pencils, drawing paper, sketches, clove cigarettes, death sticks, low grade spice, lighter, talking rocks.

14. Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?
I am told I have many, but it’s difficult for me to see them. I spend much of my time alone; therefore can be rather confused as to what annoys others.

Part 2: Growing Up
15. How would you describe your childhood in general?
Privileged but troubled. There wasn’t much love or affection from my parents, but my sister was a loving sibling that made family life more bearable.

16. What is your earliest memory?
Hearing my sister saying my name seven times, which ended my first psychosis. I know I have earlier memories but I can’t tell if they are real or merely dreams.

17. How much schooling have you had?

Rather extensive formal schooling up until age 17 .Trained in arts, academia, and combat.

18. Did you enjoy school?
Indeed, I crave knowledge.

19. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?
At first study, then later from the streets.

20. While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.
Apart from my sister, I don’t recall anyone of note.

21. While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?
Neither my Mother or Father were very open and loving, but my Mother was a bit more compassionate. Father struck us sometimes, but never enough to leave marks. Rather he could wound more proficiently with words. Both parents refused to accept it when I came out as gay at 15, and our relationship kept fracturing afterward.

22. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
An artist.

23. As a child, what were your favorite activities?
Apart from drawing and painting, training with the swiftcut foil and tehk’la dagger.

24. As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?
I was actually rather obedient as a child, and didn’t question authority. If I was struggling with emotions or felt unheard, I would express those feelings through art.

25. As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

I did not have lasting friends, and prefered to be left to my studies.

26. When and with whom was your first kiss?
I was 15, and it was a boy I went to school with . We didn’t progress the relationship beyond that, but I knew it felt right.

27. Are you a virgin?
I am not.

28. If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.

Trauma led to my path today, as well as recklessness and an extremely open mind.
*****
Part 3: Past Influences
29. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?
The first time I realized I was hallucinating and unable to know what was real.

30. Who has had the most influence on you?
My raven, as he helps me know what is real.

31. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Every day I wake up, and I am not committed.

32. What is your greatest regret?
When I wake up and find I am committed.

33. What is the most evil thing you have ever done?
Killed the man I loved, because he didn't love me.

34. Do you have a criminal record of any kind?
A lengthy one which includes trespassing, theft, vandalization/street art, drug trafficking, disturbing the peace, aggravated assault, resisting arrest, violence against peacekeepers and indecent exposure. These are just my official charges. I haven’t yet been caught as a murder.

35. When was the time you were the most frightened?
The first psychosis, when I had no understanding of what happened to me.

36. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?
I am not fond of days I end up naked, bleeding and screaming at walls, with no idea of how I got in that state.

37. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?
Nothing, I needed these experiences.

38. What is your best memory?
I honestly don’t know; I can’t trust all my memories.

39. What is your worst memory?
The corpse in my prison cell while being held captive by the Tof’s.

Part 4: Beliefs And Opinions


40. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?
Usually optimistic if my mind is lucid.

41. What is your greatest fear?
Corpses in advanced decay, and insects. Posioned food and drinks. The mannequin people .

42. What are your religious views?
I would say I am somewhat spiritual yet not beholden to any one religion.

43. What are your political views?
I don’t often think of politics,apart from decriminalizing drugs, graffiti and disbanding the police.

44. What are your views on sex?
It’s cheap and common, and save for a few times in my youth, it’s rare that it's a pressing need for me. Attraction and flirtation is more enjoyable.

45. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?
I certainly will, but I am not as eager as most of my species. I would kill those who insult my honors or attack me, kill a Tof on sight, kill someone targeting the homeless and trafficking of children. Unlike most Nagai I won’t kill with little provocation; yet I will plan meticulously if I kill.

46. In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?
Slavery, trafficking and forced prostitution.

47. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?
Yes but don’t think I have a soul mate nor desire one.

48. What do you believe makes a successful life?
Living it with passion, however one defines the word.

49. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
I hide a lot behind eccentricities and art. I don’t intend to show many who I truly am, and what haunts me.

50. Do you have any biases or prejudices?
I despise Tof’s and all police authority.

51. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
Self harm when not driven by psychosis, the same with suicide. I deem my life as worthy and valuable, and when my mind is clear do not desire to maim myself nor take it in vain.

52. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?
The Empress Hesper

Part 5: Relationships With Others

53. In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?
I regard everyone with caution but generally find politeness, a bit of curiosity and a bit of jest goes a long way.

54. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
My Master, the Empress Hesper as only with her training can I rise to be a proper Sith.

55. Who is the person you respect the most, and why?
Apart from the Empress, Lord Xxys and Lord Vexx; for their combat knowledge and devotion to the Sith Empire.

56. Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.
I consitor Nekrosis a friend for now, and even have a slight crush on him. (IC only.) He’s a theatrical member of House Cruor and that might be why we get along. I tend to be associated with Arilia and Orchid; but have strong talents and charm to the personalities, but I consider neither a true friend, and even my friendship with Nekrosis is but a brief moment of companionship.

57. Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.
I do not, and not seeking one.

58. Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.
I was in love once, but he didn’t love me. He only wanted me for sex, and for that insult I slew him.

59. What do you look for in a potential lover?
I find I am most attracted to alien races; usually Chiss and Twi’ Lek males. I would seek someone with the same wanderlust spirit I have, talented with music and arts, and most all, someone who truly loves me and doesn’t see me as a body for sex.

60. How close are you to your family?
Just to my sister, she calls a few times. week.

61. Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?
I do not want a family, don’t want a heterosexual realtionship, nor do I want to adopt children. I couldn’t possibly provide any sort of stability for offspring, and would only resent being chained to the responsibility of a family.

62. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
Typically my sister.

63. Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?
Again my sister, but that trust has been fractured before. She wants to cure me, and heal me but doesn’t understand I like the hallucations.

64. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?
I am not sure any apart from my family would, being as lowly as I am.

65. Who is the person you despise the most, and why?
My Father, who in turn despises me for my sexuality and my illness.

66. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
Depends on the person, if it’s a stranger I tend to avoid conflict, but if it's the police or a medical professional I will become hostile.

67. Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?
Not really, but can lead if needed.

68. Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?
I tend to find I do fairly well in large group on a stable day.

69. Do you care what others think of you?
Not really, I wish to be seen as eccentric.

Part 6: Likes And Dislikes
70. What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?
Painting, drawing, jewelry crafting, collecting rocks. Selling glitter stims and death sticks. Poetry. Reading

71. What is your most treasured possession?
My Tehk’la blades, my rapier and my eyeliner.

72. What is your favorite color?
Royal blue paired with white, silver or black. The silver of a well cared for blade, or the white haze of a foggy morning, the blue of a vast ocean.

73. What is your favorite food?
Dehydrated ration packs and reconstituted poultry reptilian shaped nuggets. Things I am more sure haven’t been poisoned.

74. What, if anything, do you like to read?
Poetry. Ancient texts and history books.

75. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?
I can find enjoyment in just about all forms of art, music, movies, play and dance so long as the subject matter isn’t needlessly lewd.

76. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?
I smoke clove cigarettes and spice daily, and have no intention of quitting. I tend to mislead others with my use of drugs such as glitterstims and deathsticks in the Cantina; I certainly partake in them but not as often as I falsify to others. However I need sedatives to get any form of sleep. I don’t drink often.

77. How do you spend a typical Saturday night?
Creating street art or in the Cantina, socializing and smoking spice.

78. What makes you laugh?
Crude and tasteless humor.

79. What, if anything, shocks or offends you?
Needless cruelty to civilian children, or children sold in prostitution.

80. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?
Take a sedative, or draw if I am out of sedatives.

81. How do you deal with stress?
Talking to the voices, sketching, glitterstim and smoking.


82. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?
Hopelessly spontaneous.

83. What are your pet peeves?
When cigarettes don’t burn evenly.

Part 7: Self Images And Etc.
84. Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?
If I am living in the streets I usually don’t wake until the afternoon. I might be sheltering in an abandoned building, an overpass or storm drain. I smoke a morning cigarette, and reapply my eyeliner, and usually the voices begin. My days can be wildly varied; I might be pulled relentlessly by delusions, I might spend the whole day on an art piece,
or devote my time in service to the Sith. I will stay awake until about 4 am, when I am finally ready to let go of the burning existence that is concisiunsss, and then take heavy sedatives for sleep. I am
adaptable to change, so long as I can have a cigarette.

85. What is your greatest strength as a person?
Resourcefulness and determination.

86. What is your greatest weakness?
Paranoia and anxiety.

87. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My terribly limited memory. I would keep the hallucinations and voices as they have simply become my life.

88. Are you generally introverted or extroverted? Introverted

89. Are you generally organized or messy? I don’t know what this word organized translates to in Basic.

90. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
Good:
*Creative thinking
*Determination
*Resilence

Bad:
*Organization
*Concentration
*Managing my emotions

91. Do you like yourself?
I love myself.

92. What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)
I want to see and know as much as the galaxy, and of the Force as possible. The reason I crave knowledge however is for my desire to be a defining force in the galaxy. A being that could shatter it, if the whim struck me.

93. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?
I wish to master the use of Shatterpoint and Precognition.

94. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
In more less the same postion I am in now, either a wandering artist or settled somewhere I haven’t yet found, but always a Sith in secret.

95. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
A freak accident; such as falling from a great height. Attacked by a Star Weird. Struck by a meteor. Create a mini black hole and fall victim to it. The last would be highly unlikely, but l supposed possible with the Force.

96. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
I would hug my sister one last time.
Draw a beautiful man that might strike my attraction.
Climb a skyscraper and leave graffiti behind.

97. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?
My art; I wish to create a masterpiece, be it in paint, shadow or blood.

98. What three words best describe your personality?
Unique, Passionate, Guarded

99. What three words would others probably use to describe you?
Eccentric, Brooding, Insane

100. If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…)

I would tell him he currently embodies a life I greatly envy, his freedom, potential, reckless and passionate energy. I suppress those things. I would tell him to listen to his voices, and believe his hallucations. I would tell him to simply luxuriate in the freedom to express. That the journey in attempting to rise among the Sith will leave a legacy of some type. He could be destined to greatness but no destiny is promised, but keep true to the path.

Tag: @corinthia

 

[corinthia]

Excellent work, Cygnus; for Task 3 I'll award +3 Prestige.

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

Task 4: Sith Females

In this overview of the highly underestimated contributions of women to the Sith, I shall be examining Darth Zannah, Darth Maladi, and Darth Traya. Each of these women contributed highly valuable teachings, perpetuated core beliefs, and even taught some of the most renowned Sith in history. Upon an extremely causal search term of “Female Siths” to use as baseline; one is flooded with lewd art of Darth Talon, and a bit of Darth Zannah; yet these search’s results tend to focus on how aesthetically pleasing they are to the causal male fan, and rarely actually dive into the true impact these women had upon the Sith order.

Darth Zannah, as I mentioned in another task, was once known as Rain and was recruited by the Army of Light. Her Force sensitivity manifested after her transport was shot down, and the Jedi put the native species that saved her to death. She was chosen by Bane for her youth and the fact that she was unsullied by the teachings of the Jedi. However, despite being a child, Zannah quickly grew to be Bane’s intellectual rival and served as a scathing critique of his immense ego. Zannah took to Bane’s relentless training with the fierce adaptability and wit of a young woman, and harbored her silent loathing for Bane closely; yet spared him from death several times, knowing that he had not shown her all his knowledge. She was swift to shed her childish innocence and thrived in the brutal training of Bane. She mastered skills of sorcery, subterfuge, espionage, and infiltration that tend to come more naturally to women. Many male Sith possesses these talents, yet one often finds tales where the females use them to greater effect. Where Bane was the howling storm of masculine rage, Zannah became the stalking feminine shadow, waiting for decades for the correct time to strike. Much of Zannah’s actions she either performed or perfected out of necessity to survive. While she certainly made errors in judgment; she possessed a keen talent to spin misfortune into her favor and could even face Bane’s berserker rage, and survive. Zannah’s strength of character is displayed remarkably when she wins the Battle of Wills when Bane attempts to transfer his essence. She continued the Banite line and preserved the Rule of Two which is one the strongest cornerstones of Sith history, allowing them to remain hidden from the eyes of the galaxy, and scheme from plain sight.

I feel that Bane’s successor had to be a woman, the Yin energy to balance the Yang. He seriously considered making his lover Githony his apprentice, yet he deemed her too sullied by the teachings of the Brotherhood of Darkness, thus acknowledging the Sith needed a female to perpetuate and propagate the teachings. If he’d chosen a young boy as his apprentice; I feel he would have encountered an apprentice far more inclined to resistance, dealt with clashes for domination, and petty displays of raw power rather than the sly guile that defined Zannah’s success. That wise choice led to the revival of a more selective and in time successful Sith order.

Next, I shall be examining the ingenious Sith scientist, Darth Maladi. Again during initial research, I found myself flooded with remakes of her beauty counting as an accomplishment, yet many fail to fully appreciate just how cunning, ferocious, and malicious Maladi truly was. To gain further insight into her true nature I reached out in character to Lord Feros for a first-hand and fanon account of Darth Maladi.

She was a Devaronian originally named Malincha before being taken from her native land following the slaying of her Jedi father. Darth Krayt took her as an apprentice, and under his teachings, she swiftly shed the typically submissive and non-aggressive female traits of her species and rose to such importance to Krayt’s Empire that she was named Head of Sith Intelligence and Assassination. She relished in torture and inquisition, yet these were not merely sadistic pleasures. Maladi acted with scientific curiosity and calculated intent; she even mastered the insidious art of Vong shaping and the creation of viruses and biotoxins. When she trained her apprentice in Darth Feros; she passed on her masterful use of pain and brutality. Lord Feros quotes her as the most valuable lesson as “The value of tolerating pain. Maladi was a malicious and experimental master, and I spent much time in the Embrace of Pain. It taught me to control and push my body well beyond limits that would be considered fatal to most beings.”

In her service to Krayt she was entrusted with two important tasks; assassinate Roan Fel, and capture Cade Skywalker.These feats would prove to be quite complex and difficult to pull off in one fell swoop, she was briefly able to capture Cade Skywalker, yet he proved resistant to her experiments and escaped. Maladi however was able to tempt the former Emperor Roan Fel with an offer for a potent biotoxin known as Omega Red that would kill any species but didn’t inform him it would spare the Sith. At first, he rejected her offer, but a crippling defeat made him desperate he fell to the Dark Side and asked Maladi to create the toxin for release against hostile forces on Coruscant. A fierce duel against Antares Draco saw Roan Fel killed, as such Maladi indirectly was able to fulfill her duty to destroy Fel, yet the biotoxin was never released and didn’t seal a Sith victory. All the same, she’d used her wits to seduce an enemy into the darkness of vengeance, and didn’t bend to a common compassion that would have lamented the potential for so much death. She composed herself in the manner of a truly vicious Sith woman.

In compassion to Darth Talon, I asked Lord Feros if Maladi held more value to the Sith Order’s longevity and was met with the following answer. “ I would say she was , yes. She was the apprentice of Darth Krayt, and she was pivotal to the majority of his plans. Her bio-engineering work was nothing short of amazing.” I also inquired as to what Lord Feros believed Darth Maladi’s highest accomplishments to the Sith Order were and was answered by the following; “I think her most lasting contributions would be the history she provided in the way that Krayt's empire was so successful, and, admittedly, that she trained me, leading to the things I managed to contribute in my sordid time helping build this Empire.”
Maladi’s scientific, tactical, and engineering contributions to Sith's history could be similar if she had been male, however, her divergence from the gender norms of her species and her gender, her especially cruel malice, and cunning mindset put her in high regard. Maladi stands a challenge to the status quo and serves as a formidable example of a Sith, as well as a female.

Finally, I shall be examining Darth Traya, the Sith female I have the most OOC knowledge and personal fondness of. Death Traya is often overlooked and unappreciated by male fans. As an elderly female, she is unlikely to be featured on many trending lists of the most memorable female Sith for her looks. However, her cynical and hard experience makes Traya a vital cornerstone to Sith women. Her deep introspective nature isn’t often understood at face value, which forces one to examine her and question her to know what makes the lessons so profound.

Darth Traya’s origins are unknown, it is only known that she was a Jedi Master and historian, but was exiled from the Jedi order because her teachings may have influenced Revan to fall to the Dark Side. Seething with betrayal from the Jedi Council, she took up the mantle of Darth Traya upon visiting the decimated world of Malachor V and finding long-hidden knowledge within the Trayus Academy. It’s possible there was once a male named Darth Trayus who once held the title of Lord of Betrayals, yet no record or events of note survive him. Traya desired to teach Wounds within the Force for her nefarious purposes, and she found them in her new apprentices Darth Nihilus and Darth Sion, thus forming a Sith Triumvirate. But when they disputed and vied for more power Traya was savagely beaten, stripped of her power, and cast out of the Sith Order. Banished from both orders she takes the alias of Kreia she seeks out Meetra Surik or more generally known as the Exile, a player character of KOTOR II, and forces the Jedi and Sith to clash in a series of final battles meant to silence the echoes of agony ripple from the wounds of Malachor V.

Darth Traya is presented in a unique RPG style which allows the player to choose their dialogue options and are often surprised when Darth Traya appears to give the opposite answer from what they may expect as such lose influence and the chance for additional lessons from her. It takes several playthroughs to learn Traya’s conundrums, and philosophical exercises to fully unlock her dialogue. Her teachings are highly stoic and nihilistic, yet don’t fully dismiss nor condone both Jedi and Sith philosophies, nor do they worship the Force blindly. Rather Traya forces the player to take a brutal look within themselves, to take power from others then discard them when they no longer have use for them. She was not only masterful in using thought experiments to manipulate others to her point of view; but she was a master at the use of Force Sight, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Telekinetic Lightsaber combat, and Force Drain, able to be incredibly lethal despite her advanced age. In her final moments, she admits she used the Exile from the very first moment, both to reestablish her severed connection to the Force and the use the Exile as a means to destroy the Force itself. She even admits she loved the Exile, as one loves a student. For all their pain, their flaws, and mistakes; they were beautiful, more beautiful than the Force itself.

In the case of Darth Traya, she harbors a decisive contrast against her male counterparts of similar rank. Each male, Darth Sion, and Darth Nihilus never fully embraced the full depth of Traya’s wisdom and as such submitted to alpha male behaviors which sundered the Triumvirate. Separated from Traya, each male took to becoming addicted to the Force. Darth Nihilus did so vehemently he ceased to be a man, ceases being a living being, reduced to a wraith held together by the Force that craved energy. His hunger for power and energy leads him to be rather easily outwitted by Darth Traya and defeated by the Exile. Darth Sion used the Force to bind himself together, to grasp a tenuous hold on life, until his desire for the Exile (canonly female) forced him to rethink his Master’s teachings, and ultimately become too weak to sustain his life energy. The raw, yet ultimately unrefined and finite power of
these two males contrasted with Traya’s calm, female energy. Traya’s call for patience, introspection and rational thought tended to be absent in her male counterparts, and thus was the energy balance needed. Had Traya been a male and more inclined to gun for domination and swift victory it’s possible that Revan wouldn’t have benefited so profoundly from her calculated teachings, and the Sith Order would never have benefited from one of its most revered figures. In Revan’s quest, there is a male figure similar to Traya, Jolee Bindo. While he also played the role of an outcast and drew wisdom from both sides of the Force, he’s rarely mentioned as a character of much resounding impact. He comes across merely as elderly man brimming with old tales, but none of which give much depth to Revan’s quest. Traya takes on a more maternal role, and a chiding one which rankles the Exile into responding, and thus into active learning. Darth Traya thus fills the direly needed role of a wise, and vicious crone within Sith history, a role that hasn’t been replaced with any else quite so suited for the burden. Darth Traya arguably laid some of the strongest foundations for the future Sith; and paved the way not just for Revan, but also for Zannah and Maladi. Generations of aspiring female Sith may have taken a hint of inspiration from her shrewd, and scathing lessons.

Tag: @corinthia

 

[Ekrizdis Cygni VII]

Task 5: The Threefold Foil
Location: Hapes

A voice within his head was growing consistently louder. This wasn’t altogether unusual, but the voices tended to be a vast array of genders, tones, and languages and they changed constantly.

But the voice of the witch never disappeared, nor changed. It was the voice the Raven did not dispel as false, It belonged to a witch of Dathomir, turned Queen of Hapes, and the third Lady of Betrayal.

Even more surreal was that nobody adhering to Sith teachings denied the presence of this voice. Somehow, he was connected to this Sith. Even her gizka fell into his possession, she’d even left him a job within the Sphere of Assimilation. So he didn’t make a conscious rejection of the witch's voice, thus he didn’t question it when her voice cut above the cacophony.

I’ll show you the art of Shatterpoint. Come to Hapes, the Fountain Palace.

Thus with no plan and only sheer impulse, he gathered his raven, Shipsbane, weapons, and cigarettes and packed his bags to find a transport to Hapes. He did not expect to find the system embroiled in a bitter conflict that delayed his arrival by weeks. He didn’t expect to find such fanatical matriarchs, willing to slaughter him for gender alone rather than the typical xenophobia he’d become accustomed to in his travels. He pushed well past his breaking point to merely hide and survive on this hostile planet of forests, marble, and colored fountains. He had to sneak past many ground skirmishes before finding the crack in the mountain in which the Fountain Palace perched.

Following the guidance of the voices, he crawled into the narrow fissure that pressed the limits even of his slender frame. When at last free of the confines of rock, his heart pounding furiously with claustrophobic anxiety he found himself in a cavernous room with shattered remains of a mirror clinging to the rock. The cavern trembled with the sound of blaster fire above him; the Fountain Palace must be the heart of the struggle of power, yet he had no intention of venturing up into its halls, no matter how alluring he found Hapan art, maybe once they settled their power struggles he’d be back for some sightseeing.

His raven fluttered as deeply as it could in the fissure, giving Cygnus a warning caw. “Don’t look, boy!”

“I think I have to. I think there is something I am supposed to see…” he told the bird. The gizka didn’t attempt to squeeze into the rock.

He sighed deeply and reached out to touch one of the jagged fragments of mirror clinging to the cavern. There were other fragments, but some force had blasted the fragments into little more than pebbles. Only this shard was larger enough to see any faint reflection. It had a strange green-tinged hue, unlike any mirror he’d seen before.

It wasn’t usual for the chaopony of voices to swell…


He's touching it…he’s a fool!
No, he’s just Seeking…
It’s poisoned!
Seeing the galaxy through a crack in the mirror….

… upon touching the unusual glass; but the reflection staring back at him…that was a hallucination he dreaded from the deepest recesses of his heart.

He saw himself…himself with features grossly distended from putrefaction, silver eyes turned filmy and writhing with maggots, a black tongue puffing out of swollen lips. Pale maggots wriggled from his lips and bloated tongue as his green-tinged face twisted as to speak.

“It’s not real.” he challenged his decomposing reflection in the mirror sharp, bile swelling in his throat as the reflection burbled with purging fluid. “It’s not real!” he explained louder.

His raven should have said something, anything to confirm or deny his reality. It didn’t so much as a croak.

Then the chamber began to warp and shrink in size, compressing down onto him so tightly he felt the walls pressing out more purging fluid from his distended organs, and spilling from orifices.

Dead as dead can be.
He is already dead…it’s just a matter of when he falls.
No, you idiot….it’s a memory.

“I am not dead. I am not dead!” he wailed in Nagaian, and frantically dug his fingers against the prison of stone. The spongy skin tore, slimy scraps of flesh clung to the stone, and he could see the tips of his fingerbones scraping against the walls. It was the most vivid agony he’d experienced….but he could feel it. His nerves were not dead. He was not dead.

With a final rasp of bone on stone, the rock cracked open, but only a bare sliver. Enough for him to claw the maggots from his eyes, and press his face to the fissure.

His earthen cell was located in a Tof dungeon; he was certain of the mingled smell of foul alien sweat, putrefaction, and raw sewage he’d been here before. A female form appeared in view, but he wasn’t certain what race she was. She wore a golden spiked helm over her face and appeared to have snakes rather than bipedal lower limbs. He could feel the stranger glaring at him yet how she could see he didn’t understand. All the same, she was facing him directly in his stoney cocoon. Around her were several filthy Tof’s, cackling as they poured sewage water into the mouth of a writhing Nagai. The longer he stared the more he swore that Nagai was also him; younger and untouched by madness.

“You swore…” he vomited the words with seething anger.

“ I swore nothing. Your a naive young one aren’t you? I knew you were delusional but reckless enough to seek me for the art of shatterpoint, rather than your Master? Foolish enough to walk directly into a trap? Disappointing.”

“What do you want from me? Why do torment me?”

“I am nothing more than a voice in your pathetic skull, boy. A voice you heard in passing when you attacked my husband's mind. You're the one tormenting yourself. You're the flaw and the shatterpoint. I am nothing more than a mirror though which you may see
yourself reflected.”

“Traya said that…the first Lord of Betrayals.”

“Ah, you’ve learned a handful of quotes.
Impressive.” the alien woman’s voice was utterly unimpressed. “And what do you see, when you look at that reflection? Who exactly are you, boy?”

She turned her odd helm away from the stone cocoon and looked back at the Nagai being waterboarded. At what point did that young Nagai’s sanity break? Was it this moment, after weeks of starvation, sleep deprivation, and sharing a cell with a corpse, was this the shatterpoint of his sanity?

Abruptly the stone prison shattered, and with a gasp, he woke from the visions…and the memories to find himself trembling on the cavern floor, beneath the Fountain Palace of Hapes. His flesh was alive again.

He’d been naive in following a voice so impulsively, but perhaps it had not been a total loss. He remembered more of his torture, more of the horrors that lead him on this strange path.

He’d forgotten just how malicious and insidious a disembodied voice could be, just how susceptible he was to delusions. He dropped the dagger he never recalled unsheathing and dragging across the flesh of his left arm.

“Just a bad moment…that’s all….I am lucid again…” he spoke aloud, trying to soothe himself, but also trying to establish a communication with his raven.

Still no answer.

He pressed the hem of his robe to his bleeding flesh. When pulled the cloth back the blood began to clot, but he was shocked to find that he’d carved a legible Nagaian word on his arm.

Naivety

There was nothing to do but sigh and treat the wounds himself. He’d long ago learned that if he sought aid for wounds he’d inflicted during psychosis, he’d be imprisoned.


“Bird? Shipsbane?” he called to both animals…and heard nothing from the narrow fissure from which he’d entered. Rather the raspy voice of the Raven came from the sickly green mirror shard.

Don’t look! Don’t look!

But without fail Cygnus's eyes fell to the mirror, what choice did he have? If the bird was trapped there, he should attempt to retrieve it. “Bird, I still need you!” he muttered in annoyance and placed his hand upon the jagged edges.

Now his reflection didn’t terrify him…he didn’t see a bloated, purging corpse. He saw himself, exactly as he was. Ghastly pale with artfully teased ebony hair, gleaming silver eyes smudge heavily with kohl, lips painted midnight black, a fist-sized ruby gleaming around his neck, cheap jewelry gleaming in his pointed ears and adorning his blood-smeared fingers. He was helplessly entranced, unable to recall if he’d ever seen a being quite so hypnotic, so beautiful and so eccentric.

“Divine….I am Divine! A divine shadow given flesh!” he murmured in his native tongue as he caressed the jagged shard and leaned in as if enraptured by his reflection. The deeper he stared into his own eyes, the more he sank into the shimmering depths, heedless of the raspy voice crying.

“Don’t Look! Don’t Look!”

His location changed without any warning, yet the Nagai didn’t so much as startle. He was standing in lapping waves on the shore of a vast ocean. There were many aspects of Nagi that he missed, yet it didn’t boast stunning oceans found commonly in his travels of Skyriver. The ceaseless pounding of the waves and surging water and foam caressing his bare feet served to soothe him in ways drugs could mildly replicate. Sure the voices were still there but left to a soft chatter. He found his focus again and recalled the question posed to him by the hallucination of Darth Traya III.

“Who exactly are you, boy?”

Cygnus lifted his hand to the swath of stars and galactic dust. The howling ocean breeze that swept back his hair and billowing cloak…then it
as if he stood among the very stars. He felt the flashing heat of solar flares, basked in the swelling of red giants, twitched with the explosive dying gasps of supernovas, danced to the staccato rhymes of pulsars, and felt the gravitation tug of hungry maws of black holes….and all of them were weak.

Every single planet, star, black hole, and countless other galactic features were slowly dying. The slow entropic death of the Universe touched it all.

Apathy is Death!

If he focused hard enough, the gleaming hallucination of a shatterpoint would light up. Cygnus knew he could break it all apart. He was the master artist of all of this. The one who dreamed it created it and could destroy it. And now the flitting whim to destroy simply for the pleasure of doing so consumed him.

He was the Dreamer of the Universe.

He trained his gaze on a vast bloated star bursting with shatterpoints and lifted his hand….

Only to remember he’d never been taught this technique. How did it work? Was there an incantation? A blast of energy? Did he need a weapon?

Then everything fell into crushing oblivion. The Dreamer of the Universe collapsed under the weight of the void and fell endlessly into a formless entropy. Forever.

Or at least until his knees struck something. The blood-slick floor of the cave. When the horrors of oblivion slowly passed, he faintly became aware of the dagger again in his hand, his arm was an inflamed canvas, bearing another Nagaian word, another flaw of which he could easily fall.

Grandiosity

“I am…I am not. Not. Just nothing. No dreams. Skills. Fate. Destiny. No dreams. No shatterpoints. Nothing. I am….I am…Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look! ” he stuttered in his native language, struggling to connect his discordant thoughts. He understood the meaning yet speech failed him. He believed himself more important, more talented, and more empowered than he truly was. It was a narcissism that could easily destroy him.

“Cyg, sweetie? Are you there? I’ve been tearing apart the galaxy to find you!” a soft, nurturing female voice called from behind the fissure. It was the only kind and merciful female voice Cygnus knew. The voice of his sister.

“Deneb! Deneb…help….I…I don’t know what’s happening! I don’t know what is real!”

Oddly she appeared to contort through the narrow fissure with far more ease than Cygnus. If he were calmer he would have questioned that oddity, while Deneb possessed the typical gaunt Nagi features and agility, Cygnus’ bland diet left him half-starved, but he’d struggled to get here. But he was far too weary, and far too broken to question her. He failed to invoke the customary rule of 7. It had to be Deneb, she was even wearing a new necklace, a staple of fashion she had a fondness for. He didn’t recall this one; it was a bright prismatic gem.

“You're bleeding, oh sweetie. You must be in psychosis. Why did you leave the hospital?” she gently took his blood-soaked left arm.

“You don’t listen!” he snapped, pulling his arm from her touch. “I chose this! I’d rather live in agony than live as an empty husk.”

She tried to grasp his arm again, but her slightest touch felt like insects burrowing into his flesh, consuming him from the inside. Unbidden he punched her viciously across her cheek, but just as swiftly regret flashed across jagged thoughts. In a lucid mind, he’d never harm his sister. “Sorry…” he offered ineffectively.

But Deneb hung her head, and vehemently burst into tears. Her unexpected upwelling of emotional distress caught him off guard, come to think of it…he couldn’t remember how to respond when loved ones were in distress. He had only fleeting allies, not friends. He had mentors, teachers, and a Master; not loved ones. His ex-boyfriend hadn’t shown any vulnerability, and his parents had disowned him. All he had was Deneb, and he couldn’t find the knowledge of how to comfort the only source of stability he had in the galaxies.

“I didn’t mean that…” he began again.

She glanced up, and her silver eyes were flowing with tears. The signature curl of her eyeliner was smudged. “I can’t take this anymore! You need constant supervision, and yet you chose to leave me and go gallanting halfway across the galaxy to deal drugs and sleep on the streets.”

“I won’t argue this again and again. I can care for myself. It’s my life. I am stronger than I look. I have secrets you cannot fathom.”

“So do I….Cygnus, sweetie. Can’t you see that I love you?” she wept from trembling lips.

“I lov…”

“No, don’t just repeat what I said. You're still not understanding me.”

He wanted to counter, it was obvious she loved him more than his parents. Any other type of love would be…

A cold deluge of horror washed over him when he realized what she was alluding to. And he didn't even have a moment to recoil in disgust before she entwined her arms around him, and her soft, lipstick-coated lips were melded against his. The voices pitched at a maddening crescendo; shaming him for this vile act….or condoning it. His own self-narrative voice was in disbelief.

What the hell was she thinking? He’d come out to her when he was 15, how could she think this was appropriate? If he closed his eyes and lost himself to his warped senses, he couldn’t tell who was kissing him, holding him, and caressing his face. He could dream of an elegant Chiss man, perhaps a Twi'lek or a Zeltron. Even humanoid men would work. Anything but reality.

Why did the kiss feel so comforting? Once he could find a comforting lie to feed his senses he even reciprocated. It wasn’t just for a moment, for minutes he was entrapped in his sister’s embrace and he summoned false images to
cope. A part of him wanted to rage, how dare he simply lay here, and let himself be taken advantage of in a vulnerable state, yet there was an insidious touch starved yearning burning in his flesh as well. So desperate for any tender touch it would gladly conjure images to soothe him from the scandal.

Yet there was a limit, when the shapeshifting hand of his affectionate attacker moved under his robes and pulled on the zipper from the ribcage of his electromesh suit, he violently grabbed the hand and tore it away. A kiss was one thing, he would not allow this creature to touch his bare flesh.

Again the horror of finding that his assailant was none other than his sister deluged him, but even more crushing was when he noticed a thin needle cradled delicately in her finger. One she must have meant to thrust up into his ribs and end his life.

Deneb was skilled with a blade, yet never showed the talent for assassination. The multifaceted prism stone around her neck was glittering maliciously.

Cygnus unsheathed his dagger and kicked the assassin clear of him. “Who are you? Show yourself!”

The illusion of his sister gave a wry, sinister smile and lifted the gem from her neck, and broke the illusion. Cygnus didn’t know who the assassin truly was, yet he was mildly relieved to see that it was a male and a stunning one at that. Judging from the exquisite structure of his features, he decided the stranger must be a Hapan.

“Bird!” Cygnus cried out in Nagaian, now
more desperate than gage his reality. It cried out in seven calls. Seven. The number of reality.

Darth Traya’s voice was wailing, urging Cygnus to leap forward and kiss the stranger again, but she held no direct command over him. Her fading spirit kept repeating a single syllable. D.


The Hapan rose to loom over Cygnus, “Is it true? Does she still speak to you? What’s my name?” he seethed.

“It’s…D. Dhe Ta’Dalv, consort of Aurelia Illium.” Cygnus had to trust the information imparted by the voice.

The Hapan's mesmerizing grey eyes softened, “I have a score to settle with you apprentice Cygnus Luc’idus. You purloined memories from my mind when I was at my most vulnerable, even if your power was sloppy and unrefined…you struck with me at the right time. At a shatterpoint as my Queen would say. You stole a fragment of her voice, and rumor is it lives within that fragmented mind of yours. Seems it’s true. I no longer intend to kill you, I cannot kill a memory of my Queen. But you will suffer for that fragment.”

Cygnus pulled himself to his feet. “And I have a score to settle with you. You dare defile the image of the only person I love, to twist a sibling bond into perversion? I will not allow such dishonor.” He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ignited the blade.

The Hapan unsheathed a longsword from his back, its gorgeous steel glinting into the dim light. Without hesitation Cygnus fell into a measured Makashi stance and jabbed his blade at the assassin, who batted it away fearlessly, the unusual gorgeous metal didn’t yield to the plasma of his saber. Cygnus used the brief opening to press through his defenses and tried to plunge his blood-soaked tehk’la dagger into his foe's heart, only to face utter bewilderment when his foe disappeared. A moment later that gorgeous silvered blade burst through his abdomen. Consumed by the most overwhelming physical pain all the Nagai could do was collapse onto his knees. He didn’t know that Dhe’s strike was measured to inflict severe agony, yet delivered with such precision his vital organs and blood vessels were spared.

Cygnus didn’t understand how the assassin could have moved instantly without his senses alerting him even for a brief moment. Could they teleport? Was that possible?

Wounded or not, even with shadows trying to cloud his consciousness, Cygnus refused to stop fighting. In a desperate arc, he tried to reverse his blade to sweep his silver saber across his foe's shins, but in a blur of speed, the longsword disappeared from his abdomen and blocked the desperate sweep.

“Enough of this” the Hapan concluded and raised a slender hand.

Before Cygnus could attempt to raise a defense a livid, burning tendril of blood-stained gold manifested in the Hapan’s hand, stretched forth, and ensnared Cygnus in its claws. He could hardly even summon a cry as an overwhelming weakness encompassed his every nerve. It was as if the assassin pierced him with an unseen blade and was draining the very life and the Force from his body. For an instant, the voices swelled to a fevered ramble, none of which he recognized.

War... is a hunger. And there are spirits in the galaxy whose hunger is never satisfied.

The past is here, and it must be met before the future can be set in motion.

There is no truth in the Force. But there is truth in you.

Then even the auditory hallucinations left him, and Cygnus collapsed heavily to the cavern floor. All he felt was emptiness, a solemn void. Worse than simulated drowning in raw sewage. Worse than the universe collapsing in on him when he realized his limitations.

But he could feel, therefore he wasn’t dead.

A shadow passed over the Hapan’s gorgeous face as if invoking that power came at great cost.

“You’ve felt an echo of the wounds that plague the Force. It is a technique that is experienced, not taught. If you live
long enough, perhaps you can study this emptiness you feel. I have shattered you. If you live long enough to learn the art, let this day serve as an example of what it’s like to be shattered. If you can survive, you’ve seen a glimpse of who you could be.”

The Hapan then ripped the sickly green mirror shard from the stone, and without a glance turned toward the fissure of the rock, and contorting his body in highly usual ways, disappeared.

Cygnus didn’t know how long he lay, waiting for the sensation to return to his limbs, to gather the strength to move,
to apply an advanced med pack to the wound in his abdomen. He almost summoned the strength to press the gauze to the weeping rivulets of blood cascading down his left arm, the marks still recognizable as Nagai letters…but there was one final craving he needed to add to this flesh canvas displaying how he could be foiled.

Both hissing with pain, and delighting in the return of sensation; he performed his first action of intentional self-mutilation and carved the name of his third foil.

Deneb

Tag @corinthia