Open Social Mustafar The First of Many

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"I say we call this a draw, I can respect that you can gut me, and I can maim you."

he gave a chuckle, then a laugh, clearly he had a blast during that.. typical mandalorian entertainment.

"cremek."

"though if you do stab me, and I would likely die, I could probably get you caught up in a death-throe and take you with me, if this was a real fight, I would take that trade in a heartbeat, and lass, you can't just pierce if you wanna see what someone had for breakfast, you need to tear, likely sideways or upwards, the natural fat a stomach has would likely protect you otherwise."

"cremek.."

fighting aside, now he was genuinely interested in how she would proceed in this situation.

"CREMEK."
"WHAT?"
"you're ranting again."
"I do not care."

"I could also hypothetically force pull a piece of.. well anything, from behind or to your side, and dome you with that, so the battle really isn't really over unless I had used everything I had beforehand, which I haven't."

cremek was going full on scholar mode... again.

"And I see you have yet to properly shield yourself, another rookie mistake, I could easily work up the energy to put suggestions for fear in your mind.."

---

@Xorism

Marian- internal
Cremek- internal
cremek-external

 

[Barz]

What did he want? It was a simple question, but coming from the Dark Lord of the Sith it felt more like a stressful final examination. He sipped from his bottle, watching the fight play out before him. What even caused the altercation? The Sith were barely surviving and already found ways to fight among one another. Barz chuckled to himself, drinking from his bottle.

“Ooh!” He winced as he watched the pureblood land a solid hit right in the nads of the other guy. Barz shook his head, “I want to figure out where I fit within this new Sith Order,” He answered. That sounded nice and diplomatic. And it was the truth. He felt very out of place with the current crop of Sith, but he wondered if that was because he was the only acolyte as far as he knew.

“I have to ask..” He began as he took another bottle of beer, “How come you didn’t pick a nice, temperate spot for a base?” He asked with a grin.

@Altaris

 

[Nevizkas]

Cyutadakyr scoffed at Cremek's suggestion of a draw, with victory so close all she needed to do was press forward and push the overly confident man to his ass. With their lightsabers locked off to the side and his refusal to yield there was little reason to hold back.

Before he could even finish his breakfast rant, the pureblood switched on the vibroknife with her thumb, slicing forward into the man's unprotected gut. She was quite careful and deliberate with the thrust, intending to deliver the most painful strike she could without killing him.

This also would likely break any concentration he might have had on inflicting any aura induced effect upon her, among other things. If he wasn't knocked out from the pain, she suspected he would rather seek medical attention rather than bleed out chasing her.

Next she'd pull back hard and fast to escape his leg grip and create some distance between them before deciding what to do next. "You lose." She spoke at last with an icy look about her.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Perhaps he would have feel back if he was a coward. But cremek was anything but one.
What she failed to realize was that cremek would very gladly bleed out fighting a foe than retreat. It was not over yet, not while he was still clinging consciousness.

As soon as cremek felt the knife enter him, he wildly threw his saber at her, the saber spinning like a buzzsaw, fueled by Cremeks rage. He fell to his knee, bleeding heavily, he would rather die than surrender or retreat, the stubborn man truly was a believer of victory or death for himself, and was pushing himself to the extreme to prove it, if he was going down, he was going to take her with him, he was not done yet, as long as he drew breath he would keep fighting her, and make her work for this.

the last gasp, the final blaze in all its intensity arrived cremek tapped into everything he had, pushing well past his limit.

He then force pulled a few glass cups from out of the hands of the acolytes, and guests who were drinking them, intending to cause as much damage to her as possible before he collapsed.

He had stolen a fair amount of energy during their physical combat from the pureblood and was determined to use it.

It took all Cremek had to prevent himself from blacking out, but with one final push, cremek, with all the energy he had left, unleashed a small amount of lightning at cyu. If the attack hits, it would be painful, but cremek was far too weak for it to be lethal.

then again, these abilities were essential cremek going gung-ho, rushed, with the quickly dwindling flame that was cremeks consciousness, weather the three pronged attack landed or not, cremek would collapse, completely drained and at the victors mercy, bleeding heavily.

he was unable to move, yet despite it all, he clung onto his awareness, well a shred, he couldn't lift his limbs or even speak proper, he gave a weak grunt, accepting defeat.


@Xorism

---

OOC: edited to make this be a little more realistic, thanks y'all!

 

[Ambrosia]

Ambrosia nodded after he questioned her words. She could read music easier than she could read any writing; so much more so that she wrote notes in a weird sort of code of music notes and symbols. "Perhaps you will," she added, her lips curling up as her voice hinted at the true possibility of it. She hadn't played for anyone in some time. Since Arkania, it had mostly been a private thing for her.

She was very much interested to hear his response to her 'profound question.' She had been asked that very same question twice by two very different people, and ever since she'd found herself repeating it to others as well. Though the Arkanian woman believed she knew what was not Sith, it was not effective to define something by what it was not, she thought. Yet, she still couldn't pin down the definition of a Sith. As she listened to Ervius, she found that his answer was vague. Hers would not have been much better.

"I see," she hummed in response, taking his hand above her head as she spun into the finale of their dance. The music faded out, the two of them came to a stop facing one another, and the sound of tens of glasses shattering in unison applauded them. As if she was caught off-guard by the sound, Ambrosia turned her cheek to search for whoever had caused an uproar. There were shouts of annoyance as wine and champagne were spilled upon many dresses and suits. 'Cremek?'

It seemed that as their dance came to an end, so did the fight. Ambrosia watched as the Mando-Sith made his final blow, her pale violets watching with unmasked, wide-eyed bloodlust for the result.

@Keisen

 

[Drexus Brogroo]

Drexus heard about the gathering on Mustafar in Fortress Vader, and decided 'What the fuck, why not' and made his way there. Arriving the man dawned his usual armor covering the entirety of himself. What can he say the man liked his privacy. The voice modulator changing his voice to keep the others from knowing him from past or future missions without the armor on.

Walking in he noticed the barbaric atmosphere and came to the conclusion that a brawl had either finished or is about to begin. Though from the scene, more towards the former is where he leaned. He did notice a couple familiar faces but chose to not engage in the conversations just yet. He needed to get a feel for the environment and see who was chatting up who.

More importantly to make sure that Darth Tempest was in a good mood for the evening, because if she wasn't then this would be a short lived social event for the Zabrak. Nevertheless, it seemed there was still fun to be had, so he would stay for now. Walking to the side he'd lean against the wall and look on at the rest of the party. Maybe a drink later, in case the party got dull.

@everyone tehe

 

[Nevizkas]

A satisfying sound rippled through the air as the knife's edge sliced up into his gut, but the pureblood wouldn't get any time to celebrate as Cremek elected to perform his swansong.

The rage of the Mandalorian was mighty, but Cyu watched as even he soon found his limitations catching up with him when suddenly the flailing lightsaber swung wildly towards her, closing the distance her jump backward had established. Rather than tempt fate and try to deflect it with her own saber, the pureblood made the smarter decision to leap to the side and dive under its vicious swing and allowing the blade to disengage harmlessly behind her.

Sliding along the floor with a grumble, she next felt the painful impacts of the drinking variety being pelted towards her with her only choice but to shield her face and take the hits she had to before they suddenly stopped. Rolling up and back towards her feet, she looked toward the weakening man in his final conscious thoughts when she realized, a little late, what he planned.

The stream of lightning reached her in a flash, inflicting coarse pain running through the champion's body and igniting each and every pain center that it hit for the short duration that he mustered it. The attack ceased owing to Cremek's own collapse into unconsciousness, leaving her falling to her knees, with a strained groan.

Moments passed as the pureblood fought to retain her composure before defiantly returning to her feet in silence and calmly tearing some fabric away from her arm to wrap the knife in on her person. Cyutadakyr glanced over toward his limp body, summoning his lightsaber to her off-hand with the force and clipping it away also, claiming it as spoils.

But that wasn't enough after what he had just done - she contemplated separating his head from his body to proudly display on a pike somewhere that a certain someone would appreciate. But that was too easy, and he wouldn't even feel it anyway which would remove all the fun.

Suddenly, a sinister smile appeared as the perfect answer came to her, and she would indeed take home a trophy. With a whirl, a group of medical droids came rushing into the room ready to scoop the unconscious man up and have him sent to the med bay for immediate life-saving treatment courtesy of the Dark Lord.

Before they could reach him, however, Cyutadakyr leaned over to unclip his Mandalorian helmet and take it for herself. The immense pain of losing such an item that she suspected he would feel, filled her heart with such warmth. With that in hand, the pureblood stepped on his chest and over his body to find her missing heels.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

As soon as the saber flew Into her hands, the dark thoughts, the curses, the bond he had forged with his crystal in all the years he spent alone with it cried out to the pureblood definitely like it had a will of its own, it did not recognize her as its master, the krayt dragon crystal growling at her with the same ferocity cremek had, that should have been her first warning, of course Cremek had cursed his saber, the sith sorcerer was ever the cheeky little shit. It's presence weighs her down, feeling awkward and heavy, making her tired, and it stings just holding it, the pain was building the longer she held it and the pain would not leave her hand, if she were to inspect her hand, one would notice a gash there, as if the saber itself was hungry for the purebloods blood. the curse allowed cyu to see into Cremek's mind, but also burned hers, causing her a headache, ironically Marian could be seen because of this, her helmet, although it wouldn't have been difficult, anyone who had access to cremeks mind could see her.





if cyu were to inspect the saber, the saber itself was something odd, it was cremeks ritual knife and saber, on one end, it had the ritual knife, and the other, an intricately, yet deceptively simple designed saber forged with mandalorian iron reinforcement and a twist switch, the guard reaching up in three little towers, on the outside had three mandalorian runes, "buir" for mother. "par'buir" for forefathers, and "ba'buir" for grandmother. It seems this was a family heirloom of his, no wonder he had cursed it.


"Jeez... you're a doper aren't you.. It's always so quiet when you're out.."

she moves with some blinding speed, stopping to study cyu, not aware she could be seen.

"damn.. redskin wins this time, that's what he gets for not wearing his actual kit... lets see how long she can keep that saber of his, huh?.. Two days before she returns it?.."

she sighs, removing her helmet, revealing her face, the soft features, pale skin, red eyes and hair with cat-like pupils, she was almost like an angel.

"these sith always confuse me, Lad had an absolute blast...probably will be laughing to himself when he wakes up.."


@Xorism

 

[Morgon]

Morgon had seen enough. The fight was over and so was the dance. The idea of shooting the both of them came to mind, but Cyu was a friend of Ambrosia's and Morgon didn't want to look like he was picking sides. He despised both the Pureblood and the Mandalorian with split personalities. With a sigh of disdain, Morgon looked to Ambrosia who smiled at him, and shrugged with an ugly grimace. Cyu was what most people would call a sociopath- utter disregard for rules, manners, and social standards. Morgon, on the other hand, was more of a masochist who enjoyed nihilism too much.

"I want to shoot something..." The Anzat said to Ambrosia, disregarding Ervius completely as if he were nothing but a shadow. "The urge is...highly intrusive." There would be no more shows of force whilst Morgon was here. If anyone wanted to start something, both participants would find a big blaster hole going through their cranium. "Your dance was elegant, however, and I'm glad it was not interrupted." Ervius wouldn't be able to see it, but rather feel the burning glare the Nightbrother shot him.

"I would enjoy a dance with you. Perhaps not tonight, but on upon our next encounter, hrm?" Then, Morgon grinned something wicked, snapping his jaw three times like a hungry animal. Ervius was only a reminder that if Morgon wanted to look less grotesque, which the Anzat hadn't ever cared about before meeting the Arkanian, that he would need to feed again.

"I think I've partied enough this night. 'Till we meet again, Lady Ambrosia." Morgon then took his leave from Fortress Vader after taking the Offshoot's soft hand and giving it a kiss.

@lizziie @Xorism @Keisen @theaveragejedishadow

[Exit Character]

 

[Ervius Xann]

What an entertaining showdown, with an unexpected conclusion. Ervius had to admire the pureblood's bladework, but Cremeks persistance impressed him as well: to unleash lightning on the brink of consciousness - it deserved some respect. That the victor decided to claim the trophies came as no surprise. Sith liked to mark their dominance. His mind went back to his partner.

"Thank you for the dance, my lady," Ervius gave Ambrosia a polite nod when the music ended. "The conversation made it even better. And I suppose congratulations to your friend are in order."

Morgon's demeanor, on the other hand, was quite amusing. Ervius gave the man a smile and even responded to his words:

"Thank you," oh he so loved it when people glared at him. Social niceties were so complicated, but this? He could handle straightforward resentment. "A good dance with a good partner brightens up any party."

@lizziie @Xorism @Charles

 

[Nevizkas]

The curse of Cremek would be something for the pureblood to study in due time. Perhaps she might even lure a certain pudding into helping her. The night was still young and there were others she might yet meet.

But for now her focus turned to the dark lord, as Cyu approached her triumphantly.

"My gift to you, my lord." With a look over her shoulder, indicating the fight itself as tribute. "Is service. Name a task and it shall be done."

@Altaris

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Cremek would be rushed off, likely to return to the party later tonight, if he was a jammy enough of a Bastard, which he was. The saber on her side began to burn into her thigh, like a fire, the hilt red hot, it seems the saber was doing everything it possibly could to make her regret separating it from its wielder.

When she came close to the dark lord, it gently swung towards her, as if it was paying reference in Cremeks stead.

@Altaris @Xorism

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest calmly dipped from her glass - enjoying the fruity beverage with almost as much enthusiasm as the fight breaking out within her halls. She could vividly remember her own early days amongst the Sith, and the fight with Aadya just off the dancefloor. It felt like a lifetime ago, and there was a part of her that still yearned for people like Ashla, Altair or Cairo to be by her side.

She didn’t voice her innermost thoughts - merely taking in a breath through her nostrils. The Dark Lord watched the fight until Barz spoke again, prompting her gaze to shift in his direction. The faintest hint of a smirk still lingered from watching Cyu land a solid blow between the legs. “I look forward to watching your career progress,” She tipped her glass ever-so-slightly. She had hoped the Acolyte would advance through his training, a new generation of Sith. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t last long. Such was their way.

The next question drew out an actual grin from the woman. “And deprive my Order of something to strive for?” She said with a sip and hint of amusement. Still, there was some symbolism to the words. Mustafar was uncomfortable. Their position in the Galaxy was uncomfortable. And it was that discomfort that would forge them into something greater.

Only then did her attention shift to the victor approaching. The Dark Lord regarded the Pureblood for an extremely long moment - considering the ‘gift’ that was offered as tribute. It was a far cry from what Cremek had intended to offer, and it was the implication that captured her attention most of all.

“Quite the gift,” She said, staring back at Cyu unflinchingly. “I too have something to offer,” Without warning, the Pureblood would feel the Force tighten severely around her throat - coiling like tendrils of titanium to prevent any intake of air. Invisible energies that would bring her to the very tips of her toes, chin tilted up and towards the ceiling.

The Dark Lord barely moved her fingers, still sipping from the fruity beverage with her free hand. The Champion would be forced to gasp and choke - to claw at her own throat - and Tempest wasn’t in the slightest bit of a rush. Barz would witness the exchange from mere inches away, and dozen more began to turn to watch the spectacle. Whatever victory the Pureblood boasted, she would quickly find her pride and ego mattered little to the Dark Lord.

“The very air that fills your lungs,” Tempest said smoothly, finally downing the last of her drink. The empty glass was promptly handed off to a passing droid - placed into a tray with a clink. “That is my gift to you, Cyutadakyr.” The woman would begin to see her vision go dark before Tempest finally released her - allowing the Champion to drop to the floor and gasp for air.

“And a reminder,” She tilted her head down. “That your place is to serve my will - not a gift. Suggest such again and you will not live long enough to regret it.”

She allowed a moment or two to tick by before she continued. Despite her foolish ‘gift’, the Pureblood still had her potential uses. “Korriban has long been the cradle of our Order - and the skill of its people a valued asset.” The Dark Lord gaze down at the woman. “You will return to your homeworld and expand beyond your own clan. You will unify them. You will bring them to heel - and you will return their strength to the Sith fold.”

“Do not disappoint me.” The Champion had her task to complete - and the eyes of the Dark Lord would be firmly fixed upon her until it was done. Or until she failed.

 

[Nevizkas]

Cyutadakyr's supreme confidence and smirk lasted seconds before the Dark Lord's own gift in return coaleased and contricted. The sublime power and control overwhelming the champion in a split second, finding herself at the others whim as she felt ascended. Asphyxiation was no guest in the pureblood's world, but the terse and volatile tension was well beyond the pleasurable limits that one lusted for.

A jolt of confusing energy shot through her body, a symmetrical whirlwind of immeasurable desire as the sensual, followed by the feral and tensile strength nessesscitated by the instinctual drive for survival. Her eyes rolled back to reveal the whites of her eyes illuminated by the glow of the room.

Nails clawed against flesh, desperately plying the invisible strands of fate binding their masters thought into reality. The humbling moment lasted seconds, yet eternities past. The vaccumn of oxygen drew the very light from her eyes in the moment before being hurled toward the ground, following the Dark Lord's release. Such power was intoxicating to be held by, though brought to the knife edge of demise, Cyutadakyr was torn at its culmination.

Was such pleasure only found in death? how could one find another so versed in the sinews of life itself, to break the bonds of pain and lust in search of the ultimate high. The pureblood mused in silence as Tempest laid out her own thoughts and goals. Disappointingly, her own demise would be delayed, to be consumed by her home once more as the task was set.

Bowing her head in silence, Cyu stepped back and away, assuming she was left to do so, to contemplate elsewhere.

@Altaris

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

The saber began to burn brighter, taking such delight in the suffering the pureblood had endured, burning hotter on her thigh, in fact, it had even burned through her dress and was burning into her skin itself. Meanwhile, cremek was being stitched up by the droids, bacta.. it sucked, felt weird, but it stitched you up like nothing else, quickly too, just a couple more minutes, and he would be out again, probably to take back what's his, Dispite his injuries, and the driods protests that he should rest. The raging inferno that was Cremeks rage was able to be felt by anyone more sensitive to emotional states in the area.

@Xorism @Altaris