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Author Topic: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)  (Read 545 times)

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Offline AndronicaTopic starter

To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« on: November 11, 2012, 10:23:29 AM »
Closed.
« Last Edit: June 01, 2014, 09:06:37 PM by Andronica »

Offline Cruvix

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #1 on: November 11, 2012, 01:03:03 PM »
Lucen, chained and stripped down above the waist -- barely even clothed below, either; just a simple loincloth concealing his modesty, or lack of -- kept his head raised in defiance as he was examined by, what appeared to him, two Sith Lords, and some otherworldly lackey. There were several fresh, open wounds -- some in the process to turn into a scare, some still trying to remain clotted -- around his body from marks left by physical torture, with several burns and sears leaving proof that someone either wanted to use Force Lightning on him, or he was a victim to a novice with a training saber. His face bore the more gruesome of the scars, however. A long, inch-thick line ran across from the right side of his temple to directly across his face, ending at his chin. The source of the scar was hard to say, it could have been a vibro-knife, a sacrificial dagger, training saber, or who knows what else could have produced such a nasty gash. The only true difference from the scar, however, was that it didn't look fresh at all. It was faded, worn, and looked as though Lucen had been with the scar for quite a long time. His eyes were pitch, blood-red in color as he bore his eyes into that of the woman whom spoke in such a manner that she believed she owned him, without even knowing who he was or where he came from, or why he was here. It produced a scoff, and following after a quick string of laughter that wasn't silenced as the torturer lanced into his shoulder with a stun baton, almost making the laughter raise in strength.

He didn't utter a single comment or even try to rebuke the matter, for he knew that would only strength the resolve of claiming him. No, he may have been a slave -- for the greater portion of his life, as well -- though he was far from a fool, oh no. He just kept laughing, because in his eyes he was being given such a room for freedom that it was utterly and completely pathetic, and they didn't even realize it. Their arrogance in their power, their claim of ability and prowess... It would be his means of escape, to unbind his shackles and become the hunter of the hunters, the dog that not only bit the hand, but tore out their throat in their sleep. It almost made him cry in utter joy, though he held it back, to ensure he denied the man with the stun-baton the pleasure. "Apologies, my Lord. This man has been crazy ever since the attack. Two young Apprentices -- I should say worms, rather, competting for the honor of being an Apprentice -- were beating on a slave when this man jumped them by surprise, killed one of them, and mortally wounded the other before a nearby Sith Lord waylay-ed and disabled him. Though, I guess it's fair to say he was always crazy if he had the nerve to attack two would-be Siths." The torturer spoke in a deadly, practiced calm as he just shrugged and gave up on trying to silence the slave. He knew what was about to happen, and figured it would be wasted effort, and a poor show of him, to fail at subduing his own prisoner in front of two Sith Lords.

While Lucen kept laughing, he never broke eye contact with the female Sith. She was just a simple human, neither one of them a trueblooded Sith. They were weak, foolish, and blind. Their ignorance of submitting to pure hatred alone would be their very undoing and his window of freedom. Biding, though, was the key to success. He knew how the trials would go, how this woman would use him as a badge of power, status, and wealth. He didn't care what her motives were to having a lackey, a would-be to show off and flaunt, and possibly warp his mind. If he behaved in an insane manner, they would merely think he was weak, simple, docile, and easy to break and mold into their desires and intent. A slave, to be made into a weapon. He knew the story very well enough... So well, in fact, some might believe he had already lived this story before -- if he were a speaker, that is.

Offline AndronicaTopic starter

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #2 on: November 11, 2012, 01:20:44 PM »
Lythia peered over a the torturer nonchalantly when he began to make his apologies. There was only so much of his grovelling that she could take - but her master excelled in keeping his calm fašade. Frighteningly calm, that is, as one never knew when they were on the brink of punishment when it came to Zerash, not until there was a sickly lash of Force lightning shocking one's body into submission. As a former slave, she strove to make sure such punishments would not have to occur while she apprenticed beneath him. Thankfully, there had been very few reprimands and they were all thinly veiled threats, without any need for a physical scolding. Fort his particular slave however...

The corner of her mouth had to be suppressed from rising into a mischievous little grin. It was interesting to see a pureblood Sith here and not wearing the dark robes of a Lord, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of the material fluttering about as he passed through a hallway too quickly to be noticed. Then, as if a switch had been hit, Lythia turned sharply on her heel and took a step toward the pudgy torturer. He visibly flinched, but that was more his cowardly nature than her commanding presence -after all, she was still learning to wield her power, not to mention reign in her anger to reserve it for the appropriate time. Such pent up rage from her life was a useful tool for Zerah; but it was precious and could not be wasted.

"I don't need to hear your snivelling excuses. You cannot keep your prisoner in check, but that isn't any concern of mine. I'm sure I'll find a way to keep him quiet apart from having to take out his tongue," she spat, glaring over at the Sith from across her shoulder. Her golden brown eyes swirled like molten ore at the boiling point.

Suddenly, a nauseous feeling swept over the torturer, and even for Lythia who had so much time to prepare herself and grow accustomed to the macabre presence of her very corrupt Lord. Zerash reached out and, in what could be viewed as a tender movement, placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. He clucked his tongue at the young woman from behind his partial mask, only those glowing eyes and scarred lips were visible.

"Come now, we must not frighten the help into a useless blubbering mass." There was a trace of a chuckle on his words, which soon faded as he too snapped his glance from between the torturer to the beaten Sith on the table. "Have him cleaned up and given a stim pack or two, I don't want him in such awful shape for when he begins his work. Keep the shock collar on him, as well. Lythia will expect him at her chambers before the day is out." His instructions given, Lord Zerash promptly left the room but did not signal for Lythia to follow after him. The torturer looked toward the pureblood prisoner then back to Lythia, as if confused somehow.

She extended her hand and curled her fingers inward, making a motion for him to pass the remote of the shock collar to her. Hesitantly, he did so. Once the small object was placed in her palm, the Sith Lady left as well. Although the torturer was now left to his own devices with some armoured guards and novices to aid in readying the pureblood for his new position and to be washed up, it would likely be madness to try and escape with so many Sith Lords roaming the halls.

Offline Cruvix

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #3 on: November 11, 2012, 03:29:15 PM »
"Alright now, ya' bugger. No funny business... Guard! Take him to the requestion room, and put him in something that would befit a servant to a Sith Lord. All of you! He could take down two Force users, so do not let your guard down!" He ordered in a brisk tone, with a fear edging his words as if he didn't believe his own authority over those beneath him, at least not for the moment. Lucen smirked mentally, knowing full well he was in the first steps torward his goal. As the guards began to unfasten his binds and shackles, he dropped to the ground, his body being too used to the unnatural support and suspension of his body. After half a moment he stood up, regaining his composure. He stood at a height of 6'5'' with very broad, toned shoulders with well developed muscle lining from shoulder down to his legs. He had a deep chest, skin crimson red with the fresh wounds and scars a light shade of pink against his skin. He had no abdominal muscle, and looked slightly malnourished with the lack of body fat stretching over his muscles. It was well obvious his frame was coupled well with able muscles from a slave's life, though the lack of sustaining food and care left him thin to the bone which was only worsened over the past days held in the torture chambers. He had four red tendrils that lowered over his chin on his face, with very bony eyebrow-shafts that looked almost like a pair of horns, and unlike most of the slave sub-species, he only had three spiked digits on both of his hands, instead of four, though he knew that almost everyone he'd encounter would not know the meaning of that difference at all. All in all, he was a tall, dark red Sith with a chiseled face, angular jaw, and coarse features that were naked without the traditional piercings on his face that suited many Sith quite well.

One of the guards prodded him with his standard issue blaster rifle, ordering him to move. He complied willingly, wishing to no longer have to display to the world around him his lack of modesty and decency, at which he entered down the corridor and was marched by his armed escort of guards to the requestion room, where he was greeted by a stern-faced old woman with more wrinkles than a sand dune in a storm. She scoffed at his lack of clothing, the guards informed her of the request from the Sith Lord, and she simply grumbled as she fetched some clothing for Lucen, after having taking a measuring cord to him and getting his height, waist, and shoulder length. After some odd moments of waiting, she came back with a pair of pitch black robes that flared out below the waist, mimicking the style and art of the Sith, though the tunic-top was sleeveless and was cut low, to give full present-viewing of the shock collar around Lucen's neck, almost forgotten by its own wearer. He quickly slipped into his clothes -- the guards didn't deem it necessary to put a clasped lock on his wrists, nor did they want to risk their hides in case they were not meant to restrain a now-servant of a Sith Lord or not -- and fitted them properly to his body. The robes made him have that same proud, regal look of his brethren, and the sleeveless tunic help frame and display his arms, thin as they might be from lack of nourishment, still held signs of bulky, well-developed muscles that have seen far better days. The pitch-black colors, however, with no design or styling made it obvious that Lucen was not a Sith, and the lack of a saber or training saber was easily proof of that to begin with. Clothed and presentable, the guards ushered him away toward the aforementioned chambers of Lythia -- they seemed to have forgotten about getting him a stimpack, and he was too prideful to ask for one -- so they could go on with their next task, in hopes it wouldn't involve being the lackey of a Sith Lord.

Upon arrival, they pressed the button to the intercom to announce their arrival. "Lady Lythia, we're here with your prisoner. Robed and attired, fitting for service to a Sith Lord." Chimed in the small team's corporal, keeping his voice calm and neutral. Lucen was rather curious, however, to this Sith Lord he was to serve. She seemed fairly young, and obviously no where near any form of Dark Side corruption on her body, which meant she was a fresh Sith. Her lackey called her "little Sith", and the fact he got away with such an insulting pet-name was proof enough, her status and hold as a Sith must be completely fresh and new. So he was to be "bodyguard" to a baby, a child? One who could barely wield the Force at all, or so he thought, anyways? That was more of a mockery and insulting blow than being a lowly Sith. She had beauty, but that had meant nothing to Lucen. She tried to wield power, and was only stapled back by her own master. Surely, this was a jest, and he would easily be able to slip through her fingers and completely and utterly escape from her reach and beyond any other Sith in the galaxy. He merely stood there, waiting, calculating, expecting...

Offline AndronicaTopic starter

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #4 on: November 11, 2012, 08:25:32 PM »
As she left the torturer's chambers, Lythia felt an immense relief come over her. She felt her anger leave. No doubt that vile pure blood - lucky to be born of such a high race and now be witness to its privileges if she did not send him on some task that would prove him as mortal as any other, that is - had some unseen influence over her emotions beyond mere aggravation. It was troublesome that his insolent laughter had irritated her more than she wished to show. Outside of the door her master had lingered, nearly startling her with his presence. Although it often took people years to accommodate to the stifling feeling of death which a truly corrupt Sith like her master carried in his presence, that no longer affected her.

"Your passion is important, but do not waste it so readily on lesser beings like him," he instructed her quietly. Lythia nodded. She knew this one would be difficult to tame, much like Khem Val. Yet he was now sworn to her as he had been to his ancient master Tulak Hord. The towering scarred beast that lumbered a few paces behind her was a testament to her prowess, and would die for her honour as much as she would be honoured to die for the ancient creature now that their legacy had become public knowledge. Without further words, Lord Zerash walked her to her chambers and then slipped away down the hall like the shadow he was.

When they were along at last, Lythia huffed a sigh. "This will be... interesting," she said to Khem of the aggravating Sith they would expect later that evening. The dashade merely grunted at her, a sign she knew as agreement. It was only a short while later that Lythia sat by her desk, looking toward the open door frame every other moment as she half expected the ghost of the torturer to waltz in very angrily for being left at the hands of the Sith.

Then the intercom sounded.

"Enter," she said coolly. Her brow shot up as she also took a stand behind her desk, then moved around to lean against its front as the guards brought the Sith in. Even from this distance away she could finally note how tall his muscular physique was. The Sith Lady took a few steps forward but that was all, as the Sith was a full head taller than her and she was in no mood to look up at any creature, pure blood or otherwise; save for Khem who did her a service by merely agreeing to be her shield - after she had nearly bested him in combat.

With a wave of her hand she dismissed the guards, who looked happy to leave. Then her golden eyes snapped back onto the Sith. "We are going to the armoury. Now," she informed him, motioning back out the door he had just come through. Lythia took the initiative to briskly stride past him while Khem was in the back, ever watching and waiting. As she started to make her way down the bland halls, she spoke up, "What are you proficient in? Have you ever wielded a saber or vibroblade? I understand acolytes were sent to use you as training fodder."

Offline Cruvix

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #5 on: November 12, 2012, 10:34:42 PM »
He scoffed at her question, shaking his head absently as he followed behind in her wake, his robes flowing in a fluid motion with each and every step. "I'm a slave. And, no. They were beating on a weak, helpless slave who couldn't fight. So, I killed them with my own two hands. Do you think a slave is ever given a chance to study with a weapon? No." Was all he said in a neutral, indifferent tone. If his virture to defend another who couldn't might strike her as a curiousity and ignore almost every stereotype of a Sith known to all humanoids, he did not care. What he did care for, was making an assault on the Sith Lord's intelligence and common sense, and inability to -listen- to what others told her. He already could spot several weaknessess in her character, her abilities, her attention span, just from these simple observations. He was going to slowly try and probe for her weak spots, her emotional triggers. That's how he discovered to manipulate Siths of all ranks and power: you control their emotions for them, and they become blind as a bat in outer space.

Beyond that, he simply remained silent after speaking as he followed her shadow -- well, as well as one who was taller could follow another's shadow, anyways -- and awaited her retort or rebuke. He had knowledge of weapons and various tactics that belonged to them, having stolen several holotapes and made apt usage and memorizing of their various implications, uses, and designs. However, he had no practical use of them what-so-ever, and thus he had no true capability with them beyond hypothetical and theorized plans and schemes. As they carried on with their pace to the armory, and finally arrived, he instantly spotted a weapon he deemed destined for his hands... A Lanvarok, the weapon made notorious by the Massassi Warriors of the Sith race. It was a two-handed polearm made out of composite metals with a golden tint to the craftsmanship, a weapon that was nearly as long as he was in height. At the base was a sharpened end, designed to be a crude spear or a means to finish off a foe on the ground, or impale with a backward's thrust, and at the other end of the polearm was two sides that branched off into different weapons. One end was a crude, styled form of a pick-axe with a more sharped edge designed to pierce through skin, muscle, and bone with ease while still causing severe damage to the nerves, while the other end was a two-bladed axe that had a gap in the middle of both blades, forming an awkward looking "D" shape, almost like a shovel. The very end was also a pointed tip, just like the bottom, to serve as a spear.

However, that was only half of the Lanvarok. The other portion... Was a disc launcher, which would hurl out discs often covered in a venom meant to quickly finish off any whom were struck by this weapon that was influenced by the Dark Side, which in fact was how the discs functioned, as well. A user could easily guide, for the lack of a better word, the discs to their targetted location by manipulating them and the air around them with the Dark Side, causing this weapon system of polearm and launcher to be such a crude yet beautiful design of destruction, chaos, and murder. The very epitome of a Sith -- of a warrior. "This... This will do." He said in a steady, focused tone. He was consumed by his people's ancestory with the weapon, as if his very blood was boiling and calling out for it, demanding he take it and end the life of the Sith, even though he knew he was not ready to take action against her... At least, not just yet. He laid his right hand on the polearm, another oddity of himself since most of the Sith race were left-handed, and gripped the shaft tightly as his muscled tensed underneath the cold metal. He didn't pick it up, just yet, however. He knew it wouldn't be the most intelligent thing to do, to raise a weapon without his "master's" permission, first. So he waited there, not moving, for her order.

Offline AndronicaTopic starter

Re: To Tame a Sith (Ladynox & Cruvix)
« Reply #6 on: November 20, 2012, 08:27:50 PM »
As they left the room, she was glad to note the Sith didn't tarry behind or start acting up. Most of the pure bloods that she knew of lived at the Academy in training, or had already left this inhospitable dusty planet for something far grander. Those she had the misfortune of meeting often had an inflated sense of self because of the beautiful variations of their red skin - which would mark them as betters for now and all time. She did however raise a brow when he began to explain how he got himself into this mess, as she was already surprised that he wasn't at the academy. Perhaps he wasn't Force sensitive, or it hadn't revealed itself yet. Maybe that would change with time and she might have an apprentice all her own.

"Ah, I see. How gallant of you," she said in an amused manner. The crook of her brow wouldn't be evident with her back to him, but if he could see her, the expression on her face contradicted her cool reply. Then she continued, not wanting to be thrown off by this little revelation.

"Slaves usually aren't given that opportunity. Not unless they are expected to help train the higher ranking acolytes and are required to put up a fight... or, rare still, if someone truly wants to test their mettle." As a former slave she knew quite well what that was like and part of her, the old part that was slowly being extinguished by Lord Zerash, would have commended him for it. Thanked him, perhaps wished to band together for their own safety. Now, she only seemed to twinge with the evocation of old memories and emotions.

As they arrived at the armoury, the Sith - only by title rather than blood - waited for her new bodyguard to go and pick out a weapon he fancied. Her golden eyes danced about the room and then back at him. "Pick some armour if you want, as well. I need you to be alive long enough to prove useful after all," she pointed out nonchalantly. She gazed at his apparent fondness for the old weapon and paced by the door, keeping an eye on how he handled it. It seemed to be the perfect way to defend himself, if he was not Force sensitive, and he embodied a warrior while holding it. So it may be in her best interest to let him have his little trinket and he done with it; then his mortality may not be quite so obvious to her enemies.

"Excellent," responded Lythia, curtly nodding her chin at him. "Let's test it out, shall we?" she suggested, motioning for Khem to stand back a bit. The dashade rumbled in response as he reluctantly walked to the side of the room, opposite of where Lythia was heading. She paused a fair distance away from the pure blood Sith. All this talk about his race being superior had yet to be seen, other than in words, and she was curious about how he could handle himself. Starting at her fingertips, the lick of violet lightning began to grow and trickle along her arm, extended by her side. Her other hand flicked to move the long silk sleeve back and reveal the crimson underside, while she reached to lay a hand on the hilt of her lightsaber. She doubted she would need it, though.

Suddenly, the Sith stopped and turned her head toward the entrance of the armoury. The sides of the guards on duty were still visible as the men stood with hands clasped on their weapons, purely for appearance's sake. Her voice resonated through the room and despite not having them face her, it was obvious who this was meant for.

"Go," she told them flatly. These guards often were like pawns, the favourites of Sith Lords to spy on one another. She certainly would not be spied on if she could help it - not when her rival was also fresh from the dredges of the academy and raised to Lord level, as well. Turning to peer back at the pureblood, Lythia exhaled deeply, then addressed him. "Now, begin."