Crux Vosk
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2019
- Messages
- 10
- Reaction score
- 0
Darkness........heat.......noise.......behind closed eyes lids, the violet eyes of the Devaronian darted. The core worlds had never been a preference, but their abundance of text and literature often proved difficult to stay away from. In this moment though, his mind was bent on the force. Meditation had long become apart of his daily routine, and more importantly meditation under some form of physical duress. Presently Crux sat inside a sauna box on the city planet of Coruscant. An opportunity had risen for him to have access to a library in-between missions for the empire. It had been a small choice to jump to the planet and take it.
His mind reached out into the force, exercising it just as he did his own body. With each exertion into the abyss his body reacted akin to the effort. Beaded sweat poured from his face into the mess of tangled beard, muscles flexed, and joints popped. Purpose? There was little purpose beyond the act of control over the power that had been bestowed upon him. Barriers formed and broke, he looked into the past of the very seat he sat on, who had been there before him, drops of sweat where pulled off him as though lifted with invisible hands, each use of the force being done on its own, unable to hold the concentration of them all at once.
Even still, he could feel the familiar frustration of not being able to do more. He had seen acts by other sith, the amazing things they could do with the force by executing their own will on it. Yet how, how could they....was it merely through practice, was it through study, or where they born more powerful than he. His mind drifting to a singular object, he could feel his breathing coming out heavier. His lightsaber lifted from in front of him, floating to the same height as his eyes. The vertebrate in his back popped one by one as he neared his limit, the sweat running down his face faster......and then a red light illuminated him in the darkened room as two blades erupted from the metal casing. A large hand reached out, gripping the middle of the blade......and the light was out.
Within Sith occupied space there was little need for his armor. It lay safely tucked away on the medical freighter he often called home. His B unit astromech droid keeping an eye on it. Dressed in merely black robes, lightsaber bouncing openly on his hip, Crux waded through the crowds towards where he knew the library to be. Having never been a fan of flying, even in his youth, he enjoyed the walk. His ears listening to the idle chatter around him, his senses reaching out to feel the intentions of others. Always he was on the lookout. If he hadn’t of been he may have missed it. A small spark, barely a feeling. It caused him to stop as he walked in the crowded way, a human running into his back only to be ignored.
He had long sense devoted himself to the knowledge of the dark side, and while many saw it only as a tool, Crux had never been able to wipe away the thought that it was more than that. This feeling of another nearby, the only one nearby left an odd twinge in his psyche as thought it was someone he was meant to see. Sighing deeply, he felt the inner conflict of doing what he wanted, or following a feeling that could be nothing, and yet the ways of the force were mysterious.
A small restaurant lay nearly unoccupied near where he had the feeling of another force adept. Changing his direction he made his way to the small outdoor seating. The feeling was already gone, and he questioned if it had ever been there at all, yet all the same he was convinced to see the inkling through. Ordering from a droid he sat and watched the passerby’s from the outside rather than the inner race. Drawing his own looks as his piercing violet eyes scanned the crowd, he drank the water the droid had returned with. There were only a few other patrons though Crux as he normally did stood out. Over 6 feet tall, and weighing close to 150kg, he was big for a Devaronian. Add his blood red skin, and 6 inch horns curling up to the sky, and it became even more to remain hidden. Yet the force had never seemed to tell him to hide, and now it was time to see if the voice was real, or if he’d broken his fast for no reason.
@Olympia Argead
His mind reached out into the force, exercising it just as he did his own body. With each exertion into the abyss his body reacted akin to the effort. Beaded sweat poured from his face into the mess of tangled beard, muscles flexed, and joints popped. Purpose? There was little purpose beyond the act of control over the power that had been bestowed upon him. Barriers formed and broke, he looked into the past of the very seat he sat on, who had been there before him, drops of sweat where pulled off him as though lifted with invisible hands, each use of the force being done on its own, unable to hold the concentration of them all at once.
Even still, he could feel the familiar frustration of not being able to do more. He had seen acts by other sith, the amazing things they could do with the force by executing their own will on it. Yet how, how could they....was it merely through practice, was it through study, or where they born more powerful than he. His mind drifting to a singular object, he could feel his breathing coming out heavier. His lightsaber lifted from in front of him, floating to the same height as his eyes. The vertebrate in his back popped one by one as he neared his limit, the sweat running down his face faster......and then a red light illuminated him in the darkened room as two blades erupted from the metal casing. A large hand reached out, gripping the middle of the blade......and the light was out.
Within Sith occupied space there was little need for his armor. It lay safely tucked away on the medical freighter he often called home. His B unit astromech droid keeping an eye on it. Dressed in merely black robes, lightsaber bouncing openly on his hip, Crux waded through the crowds towards where he knew the library to be. Having never been a fan of flying, even in his youth, he enjoyed the walk. His ears listening to the idle chatter around him, his senses reaching out to feel the intentions of others. Always he was on the lookout. If he hadn’t of been he may have missed it. A small spark, barely a feeling. It caused him to stop as he walked in the crowded way, a human running into his back only to be ignored.
He had long sense devoted himself to the knowledge of the dark side, and while many saw it only as a tool, Crux had never been able to wipe away the thought that it was more than that. This feeling of another nearby, the only one nearby left an odd twinge in his psyche as thought it was someone he was meant to see. Sighing deeply, he felt the inner conflict of doing what he wanted, or following a feeling that could be nothing, and yet the ways of the force were mysterious.
A small restaurant lay nearly unoccupied near where he had the feeling of another force adept. Changing his direction he made his way to the small outdoor seating. The feeling was already gone, and he questioned if it had ever been there at all, yet all the same he was convinced to see the inkling through. Ordering from a droid he sat and watched the passerby’s from the outside rather than the inner race. Drawing his own looks as his piercing violet eyes scanned the crowd, he drank the water the droid had returned with. There were only a few other patrons though Crux as he normally did stood out. Over 6 feet tall, and weighing close to 150kg, he was big for a Devaronian. Add his blood red skin, and 6 inch horns curling up to the sky, and it became even more to remain hidden. Yet the force had never seemed to tell him to hide, and now it was time to see if the voice was real, or if he’d broken his fast for no reason.
@Olympia Argead