Vasari
Blackguard Imperium
Tell me that I wont feel a thing...
Posts: 1,237
Affiliation: Academy of Iridonia - Blackguard Reborn
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Post by Vasari on Oct 15, 2020 11:02:26 GMT -8
Vasari looked around the room but only found the skirt that she had slipped out of before Ifrit had carried her to bed. She had vaguely recalled discarding her robe and the wrap she used to bind her breasts in her apartment above ground. She had never much concerned herself with clothing, living dominantly in a arid and warm climate she had grown quite accustomed to wearing as little as possible to keep cool, and there had never been a taboo of nudity at the Academy. The emotions that came from half revealed bodies were just as powerful as the ones drawn from depths of rage or anger. Every emotion had power within the teachings of the dark side and she had learned to feed off the sexual energy of those around her even before her body had fully developed, while maintaining a cool her head herself it allowed her a significant advantage over her physically more dominating male classmates.
She slipped into her skirt and discarded the thought of much else as Ifrit lifted her up into his arms. She about protested but after a half moments consideration thought better of it, and allowed his manhandling as she gazed out at the surface. The sun coming up over the horizon reminded her of home, and she gazed at the view for a short bit of time before being carried off to the kitchen where Ifrit dutifully fed her. She set to the plate with ravenous hunger - remembering with a pain in her stomach that it had been several days since she had eaten anything. She picked out anything made of meat first and devoured it without any sign of lady-like grace - using her fingers and then licking them clean before moving on to anything else he had served her, not really caring much for what it was beyond its ability to help her regain her strength.
"Thank you, I hadn't thought of how hungry I was... having my other needs so thoroughly filled."
She gave him a sly smile as she finished cleaning her plate and licked at her fingers until they were clean crossing her legs as she leaned against the table, her butt shifting towards the edge of the bench she was placed upon. Her expression changed to one of excitement as he brought up the Shipyards. At the name she attempted to bring up everything she knew about the shipyards - from their production numbers to their inventory, Anything she would have read on the topic while researching the best place to do build her little side project - the effort, which at once would have been mindless caused her head to swim and the information came to her all at once and without order or reason. She closed her eyes and exhaled, doing what she could to contain the pain on her face and quickly filed everything away within a new space she had created for recent or pertinent information. After another moment or so she allowed a smile to play across her lips and looked back up at Ifrit.
"No objections, Ready when you are!"
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The Fallen
The Dark Jedi Order
Posts: 532
Affiliation: The Dark Jedi Order
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Post by The Fallen on Oct 23, 2020 0:28:05 GMT -8
In the process of cooking and preparing breakfast for the pair, Ifrit had summoned his pants from across the room. They were the only item of clothing he ever wore, due to the fact that his wings made it impossible to wearing anything upon his torso. Instead, part of the power of the spells he inscribed upon his chest was dedicated to ensuring he felt neither heat nor cold. For the most part, such runes drew very little power except when dealing with temperature extremes such as upon worlds like Mustafar and Hoth. As such, he had little to offer Vasari in the way of clothing for between here and the apartment he had initially offered for her use. Not that there was anyone here beside himself to see her anyway.
Eris, Ikaros, and Nymph had left several days earlier to take a large quantity of supplies from Sullust to Ambria. The Dark Jedi Order was consolidating its power and shifting its focus upon one world instead of two. Meaning he would be alone with Vasari for some time yet.
Ifrit had started working his way through his own breakfast, watching Vasari with an amused expression as she dug into the food he presented to her. Much like herself, it had been a few days since he had physically consumed what many considered to be food. He had nourished himself with the Force and certain other sources. But despite the Force's near limitless capabilities, one's physical form still required nourishment in the form of food and water You did indeed seem quite... filled... Ifrit let out a chuckle and flashed her his own sly smile. He collected the dishes then and set them in a device to handle their cleaning. Meanwhile, he summoned Vasari's journal from across the room and handed it to her Very well... be sure to keep this close... Let us be on our way... With that, he lead the way out of his personal chambers and down to the platform suspended in the heart of the Volcano. He would take her back to the cavern, allowing her a chance to don her chest wrap and cloak, before ushering her into the Stormrager, a Dark Jedi Infiltrator, that he would pilot them in up into orbit where the SoroSuub Shipyards were located...
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The Fallen
The Dark Jedi Order
Posts: 532
Affiliation: The Dark Jedi Order
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Post by The Fallen on Jun 4, 2021 2:51:40 GMT -8
Continued from here...The shuttle burst down through the atmosphere on a rather irregular flight path for Ammon's usual travel back to Byllurun. From all appearances it seemed more like a sightseeing venture, as it passed across several volcanoes upon the surface of Sullust. A path Ifrit had purposefully instructed the pilots to take, so that should anyone be tracking the ship, the location of his base of operations here would remain unknown. The rear doors slid open, causing wind to gust inside the passenger bay as Ifrit stood up and walked toward the edge with Vasari still tightly held in his grasp. He turned his head to the side to give Ammon the visual cue that he was being addressedI will remember this...He turned his head back and took a small running jump out the back of the shuttle. They free fell for several moments down toward the open maw of a volcano, gaining speed as the air rushed around them. But at the right moment, his wings flared open like a parachute. Catching the wind in them and slowing their descent down through the shaft of the mountain before coming to a stop with a loud thud of hoofs upon stone.
While the stone slab that had served as an operating table not too long ago was not particularly comfortable, it was the only thing he had to use. He took several rushed steps over, before laying Vasari upon the stone surface once more. As soon as he was satisfied she was not going to fall off, he went to work scribbling runes on the platforms surface with chalk. Weaving a spell to draw upon the strength of Sullust to help bring her back from the brink once more.
The runes took only a moment for him to mark out before they activated and slowly directed the currents of the Living Force into her. He walked up to her unconscious form, and stood vigilant as he grasped her right hand. He hoped he had not pushed her too far this time, that he had not overestimated her power and skill. He had grown far too accustomed to his own power, and forgotten just how early into her training Vasari still was.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
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Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Jan 6, 2023 8:46:33 GMT -8
Location: Sullust : Outside Byllurun : SoroSuub Factory SectorBrilliant beams of turbolaser fire struck the surface in the far distance, sending thundering booms echoing across the planet's terrain, causing the very ground to rumble and quake. A sweeping cloud of ash expanded out from the blast crater, swallowing up the factory zone in a near impenetrable haze of black soot. It helped mask the initial arrival of the vermintide as a seemingly endless horde of ranats poured across the area. Wielded rusty spears and chipped vibroswords, they swarmed the SoroSuub facility in the thousands. A hundred thousand to be more precise, all galvanized towards looting the company for everything it owned. Tinker rats riding atop multi-legged contraptions of brass and brozium supervised as slave mice dragged crates of blaster rifles and grenades outside where LAATs in various states of ill-repair landed and were subsequently overloaded with stolen goods. Some of the workers of these factories tried to turn the weapons they were manufacturing back upon these invaders, but that never ended well for them. Queek Throatslitter already had several decapitated heads adorning the bone trophy rack protruding from the shoulders of his rusted armour. His axes sparked as he dragged their sharp bladed edges together, scraping free the latest organic spattering that soiled his preferred weapons.A few of the workers even tried to get a hover-tank operational. An AAC-2 started spewing rockets from the missile racks mounted on its shoulders, while its blaster cannons lit up the factory floor, vaporizing rat flesh and setting filthy fur ablaze. This was even shorter lived, as the towering tomb guard Krell sprang into action. From a perch along the upper catwalk overlooking the factory floor, the nightmare knight leapt, throwing his armour plated form over the top railing and dropping down two dozen feet towards the ground just as the hover tank passed underneath. He drew Morkai from its scabbard on his back as he fell, twirling the great-sword around to drive crystalline ostrine edge deep into the drivers side canopy of the vehicle. The frost blade skewered the sullustan inside, impaling the alien and causing a catastrophic failure in the tank. It drifted several feet before dropping to the ground as its repuslors crapped out. Then in an impressive showing of mechanical might, the warbot ripped his long blade free. He smashed the face of the sword against the side of the tank to brake off the blood that had frozen to its surface, scattering red ice crystals across the floor.Separate shuttles arrived to ferry around starfighters. Preybirds, Drexls, Fangs, and of course the Fury class. With these captured vessels, the Sith Eternal would be able to expand their operations and replenish the loses they incurred during their piratical ventures in the Outer Rim. With a spare stock like this they could begin taking bigger risks. Rodents in tattered rags wielding hydrospanners like cudgels quickly repurposed a Quasar Fire-class carrier as a means to ferry loot. Christened the 'Rattus Norvegicus', which in ancient Pzobian translated to the 'Brown Rat', the ship was crewed by a hundred of the most surly space rats.As each warehouse was stripped, storm vermin used stolen auxiliary flamers to set the emptied storehouses ablaze. Flames reflected off their mirrored goggles as they coated everything in a layer of liquid chemical fire. The horde was already looking fiercer than when they first arrived, as ranat hench-rats replaced crude spears with rusting tips for ripper power swords, gladius blades, and pristine vibro-axes. The grin of yellow fangs could be seen as cybernetically enhanced warlock enginseers drooled over manifests containing itemized lists of all their new property.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,193
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Jan 8, 2023 16:00:45 GMT -8
Squeakers scampered over the broken terrain of the factory zone, dodging burned out vehicles and still smoking corpses that littered the ground in every direction he turned his verminous snout. Veins of magma protruded from the volcanic crust covering the surface, adding their sulphuric stink to the black smoke billowing out of warehouses put to the torch. As he crested a small mound of rubble, the agile bodied rodent assistant of the dark apothecary spotted in the distance the ranat he was looking for. Emerging from a burning office building, Queek Throatslitter could be seen, wiping bloody crud from the face of his rusting vibro-axes. His work was evident all around the area. Disembodied heads had been mounted on poles, while the remaining bodies had been dragged away to be burned or in most cases, devoured, by the ravenous vermintide.
Warlock Enginseers with brass plated cybernetic augmentations and wearing full bodied fire retardant suits could be seen blackening the hull of a captured Quasar Fire-class cruiser carrier, otherwise known as the Rattus Norvegicus. Flames licked the hull, carbon scoring the surface in a thick layer of chemical soot. Cabling and tubes ran from the flame casters in their grips to fuel canisters on their backs. The liquid flame adhered itself to the outer surface of the ship, causing paint to bubble and flake off, while doing mostly only cosmetic damage to the hull. Near the hangars to the rear, towering ranat-ogres hefted crates of stolen loot. Blasters, grenades, ship parts, droids...everything not nailed to the factory floor was loaded into boxes and stored upon the pilfered ship.
Reaching the commander of the vermintide, who appeared quite brutish in his rust red armour replete with a trophy rack adhered to its back with long cords of sinew, Squeakers abased himself before Queek. The much smaller rodent kept his head bowed, beady eyes focused on the fractured shale at his feet. Raising two gnarled paws, he offered the scarred storm vermin a note from their illustrious overlord. Growling with his fangs bared, Queek snatched the piece of parchment and brought it before his black orbs, reading it to himself. When he was done, he looked down at Squeakers and pushed the note back into the smaller rodent's outstretched paws. Without saying a word, the commander raised one of his gore crusted axes and indicated across the factory lot to another ranat in the distance, flanked by nimble looking ranats in shadowsilk keikogis. Nodding, with just enough hint of fear expressed to satisfy Queek, Squeakers hurry scurried over to this other ranat. It was immediately clear to him that this verminlord was very different from those of Clan Skrittlespike.
Chang Fang, Shogun of Clan Moonblade, was a mouse of refined tastes. He stood on two nimble paws concealed by the long flowing skirt of his midnight hued kimono, his back straight and every move graceful, even the occasional twitch of his long wire thin tail. A cortosis katana was sheathed in a scabbard on his left hip, beside a smaller sheathed dagger of presumably the same material. His white fur was perfectly coifed, slicked back against his aging skin. His nose scrunched as he sniffed the air, rustling the long whiskers hanging down either side of his drooping snout. As Squeakers scurried closer to this unusual clan leader from the warrens of Dragusblight, two of the shadow squeaks accompanying the shogan turned towards the approaching vermin and lowered the tips of force pikes held in their paws, recently looted from one of the Sorusuub storehouses. Again Squeakers debased himself, prostrating before the Shogan while pushing his body as low against the ground as physics would allow. An air of amusement crossed Chang Fang's rodent features as he lowered a paw, motioning for his assassin bodyguards to be at ease. Reluctantly they lowered their favourite new weapons, allowing Squeakers to crawl a little closer, until his snout was practically at the Shogun's feet. He raised his gnarled paws and once again offered the note he carried, which Chang Fang bent over to pluck from his outstretched palms.
Furred brow narrowing, the Verminlord looked up from the note, turning his attention to the Rattus Norvegicus. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he brought one elegant paw beneath the chin of his snout, stroking the end for a few seconds before carefully nodding.
"Inform the Dark Apothecary that the Black Fang will carry out this deed." He squeaked in the language of rats, chittering in an accent common amongst the eastern clans of Dragusblight. He folded up the note and tucked it away in his pocket. As an after thought, he reached into a pouch tied neatly on his hip and retrieved a few cortosis coins. Chang juggled them in his palm a moment, then tossed them on the ground in front of Squeakers bowed head. The rodent assistant to the Bloodwyrm was quick to scoop up the currency and stuff them into pockets in his tattered attire.
After Squeakers took his tip and left, Chang Fang began issuing orders to his clan rats to prepare for whatever task the Hungering One had assigned him. Long lines of shackled sullustans were visible as storm vermin shepherded them inside the open hangars of the fire blackened carrier, occasionally cracking one of the slaves in the skull with an electrical blast from a shock prod. A few hours later and the Rattus Norvegicus rose over the burning foundries, growing smaller as it ascended above the toxic atmosphere and into the cold vacuum beyond.
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