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Star Wars: Odysseys


Havelock Vetinari

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IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant]

 

“Jaron why a-” Faraxa began, but stopped herself as Jaron shook his hand out of his robe. He studied her wound, and she wondered if he had a bacta patch or spray on him, a temporary fix until she could heal it herself. But he didn't have a bacta patch, or even a good old bandage. Faraxa glanced questioningly up at him, what was he going to-

 

Suddenly, a blood-red light crept from his robe, the tendrils of energy wrapping around his arm. The energy continued to flow down his arm, coming into contact with her wound. Faraxa's eyes widened in shock, confusion, and a slight fear. Still, she didn't move, though it could have been from the shock of what just happened in the room above, or what was happening now. For a moment, all Faraxa did was watch, as a tingling feeling came over her wound, similar in some respects to her Force-healing, but a an almost twisted and warped version of it. The pain began to numb, but she barely noticed it.

 

Through the Force, Faraxa was aware of something... dark surrounding her. Like a thick blanket of night that dulled her senses, pressing up against her Force presence, threatening to snuff it out completely. No, it wasn't surrounding her, but him. Vaguely, she could feel Jaron drawing on it, channeling it through him. It made her more than a bit uneasy, and it took effort not to recoil from him, from the red light seeping from his hand, from the velvety darkness around her.

 

Then, it was over, and Jaron stood back up. The darkness around melted away, and Faraxa didn't need to look at her leg to know it was healed. Her eyes flicked up, still wide with both shock and fear. It couldn't have been what she just felt. No.

 

No, no, no.

 

If it weren't for the fact that they had to get moving right now, Faraxa probably would have stayed there, staring after Jaron, her head spinning once again. To say the least, she was stunned. But she had to get moving. Faraxa got to her feet, and quickly made to catch up with Jaron's longer strides. She had given him her word, but...

 

But?

 

She didn't know.

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IC-Jaron:

 

"Don't ask questions," Jaron growled when Faraxa had caught up with him. "Don't look at me differently, don't talk to me differently, not in public. If you have something more that you wonder you can ask me later, but for now, we have to move, and quickly. So long as I dampened my presence enough that they didn't feel it in the battle above, we should be safe...I fear for our chances, however." He quickly kicked open the door leading to the street above, quickly stepping up and melding into the crowd just as before; following Jaron's force presence, the simple, grey force presence that he had had before, Faraxa was barely able to catch up to him.

 

A moment later and he ducked down into a relatively untrafficked alley, pulling what looked like a short first aid kit from his pack, grasping a bacta patch out of that to use on his leg; when Faraxa gave him an odd look, he smiled.

 

"I can handle pain better than you can," he muttered. "And it was faster to transfer your wound to myself than to try and put bacta on it and get you to move."

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant]

 

Faraxa couldn't believe that that just happened. She couldn't believe what she had seen, what she had felt in the Force. But if she couldn't trust the Force, what did she have? She was shocked, afraid, and horrified. But as her shock faded away, another came to replace the empty space it left. Most of all, she felt betrayed. Betrayed by the Jedi, who were paraniod enough to see enemies within friends, betrayed that she had believed that their decision to kick her out was the right one. She felt betrayed by Jaron, the one person that had helped her more times than she could count.

 

Faraxa glanced behind them for a moment as Jaron took out a medical kit. She quickly looked back, her eyes studying his closely. She didn't know what to think. Faraxa looked away once again, instead focusing on her hands, which she wordless placed on his recently aquired wound. It was almost natural for her to tap into the Force, reach out with it towards the wound on his leg, and begin to rapidly heal the burn.

 

Perhaps she was still in shock.

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IC-Jaron:

 

And Faraxa put her hand down towards his wound...only for her hand to get slapped away, as Jaron tied the bacta patch down with a bandage. As the Devaronian looked at him, anger beginning to become evident in her features, he shushed her.

 

"I need you to keep your strength up," he growled, silencing any argument. "And healing me, in your state, would be far too draining. No, it's better that I let this heal the halfway-natural way." He stood, pulling himself up with the aid of the building behind him, before standing to his full height and looking Faraxa in the eye.

 

"So, tell me what you think, and how you feel, about what you just learned. Now."

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC:For several minutes, the Mando stood still, staring into space with a blank expression.

 

Then abruptly, she started moving once more. Her footsteps were brisk and evenly paced, her body language never changing, nor did her expression. Her path brought her to her bunk, and the weapons stored there. With a deftness born of practice, she donned her armor once more, including her helmet. Cyare sat down on her bunk, and promptly began cleaning her weapons in silence.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant]

 

Faraxa almost took a step back. She almost retreated in fear from what she had just learned. Unable to stop herself, she moved back half a step as Jaron stood up. He was taller than her, and with his piercing blue-green gaze fixed on her, she had to force herself not to take another step away. In truth, she had absolutely no idea what to think. He had helped her, supported her when she needed it, listened to her. But on the other hand, he was...

 

Faraxa's gaze flicked away from Jaron, she couldn't bring herself to even think it. She was afraid of him, but also angry. "All this time," Faraxa said, her voice quiet but in no way hiding the hurt, anger, and betray behind it, "you've been Sith."

 

She couldn't believe it. Faraxa didn't want to believe it. Denying it wouldn't change it.

 

"For as long as I've known you, you've been lying. Hiding it. I trusted you!" Her voice wasn't as quiet anymore, and her eyes burned as they fixed themselves on Jaron once again. Faraxa looked away, and muttered, "Is your name even Jaron?"

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IC-Jaron:

 

"Why, yes, yes it is," Jaron replied, rather amiably. He looked over to Faraxa again, the hurt look in her eyes, the wary posture, and he sighed. Obviously, it was going to be a while before she would trust him for anything, but hopefully she would realize that he was her ticket away from this crazy planet, and off to safety, of a sort.

 

"And for what you said about me lying to you: It wasn't a lie, because you've never asked me if I could feel the Force, or if I was a Sith; and if you think hiding my alignment, if you will, was a lie, then I'd like you to know that the Jedi did quite the same thing on various missions; concealing their force presence." He shrugged, turning and limping down the alley, away from the main street.

 

"As well, I hope that my actions in years previous have helped you to come over the general misconception that Sith are inherently evil, inherently power-hungry, and inherently wishing to destroy the Jedi. And since I know you're about to ask me the question of "well then, what do you do?", let me tell you: I am a historian. I gather relics of Force traditions ages gone and sequester them on my home." He shrugged, before walking farther down - and, after a moment, slightly lifting the veil he kept over his Force presence.

 

If Faraxa would see fit to check that, she'd notice something. Not the general anger and rage and hatred that Jedi expected any Sith to emote; not some deep sorrow that led him to take the path he did, not even some burning passion that would have provided fuel for his abilities, not at the moment. All she would see would be a plain, honest man, confident in the fact that he was definitely telling the truth.

 

Deeper down, much deeper, would be the quickly-moving, turbulent undercurrent of emotion that Jaron used to fuel his powers, but even then, there was very little there to key in to anything strictly evil or dark-sided, per say; no, it was raw emotion, that which fueled the Force itself. He could channel it to perform any power he so wished, assuming it was when he knew to perform, just as any Jedi might draw upon emotions of love or something such as that to fuel the Force themselves.

 

And, of course, there was a point of pain digging into his right leg.

 

"So, yes, I really never lied to you or betraye you; I told the truth in all that I did. Now, with that knowledge, how do you feel? What are your thoughts? Do you hold me responsible for what has happened to you recently, do you hold me responsible for all the evil in this galaxy, am I now to be a scapegoat for every negative incidence to have happened to you specifically or to any person over the course of this Galaxy's history, as so many other Jedi would make me?"

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant]

 

Faraxa didn't immediately reply, instead following Jaron at a bit of a distance. She had felt, momentarily, his Force presence expand outward. Faraxa herself was tired and worn out. Her awareness was dulled, and it was becoming increasingly hard to sort through the information she was receiving from the Force. But even now, her head spinning, she could feel Jaron's presence. She wasn't all that surprised not to find some form of boiling rage, overwhelming anger, or anything else in his presence. In fact, he seemed perfectly calm. Nor could she detect any hint of a lie. But then again, with the right mental leaps, one could fool even a Jedi's senses. Jaron had also shown to be able to completely mask his presence in the Force, to the point where even Faraxa, who herself was attuned to it more than most, didn't notice it for as long as she had known him. There was no way to say that he couldn't also alter his presence.

 

What he had said was true, but then again... It was sometimes necessary for a Jedi to hide his status of a Force-user on a mission. What Jaron had done, that was personal. And lying to a friend by just failing to tell them was still lying.

 

Was he still a friend? Faraxa didn't know. He was Sith, and Faraxa was faced with the fact that everything he had done could have been a lie. But, why? What would he possibly get from helping her? To being a friend all these years. Trust was a fragile thing, and once it broke, it was hard to piece back together.

 

Suddenly, his Force presence pulled in on itself, and once again disappeared. Faraxa found that it almost felt... familar. As if she had felt it before. It was impossible, but she couldn't shake the feeling. "No," she said finally. It was a small, simple responce, but at the moment, she couldn't come up with much more.

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IC-Jaron:

 

"Good...now, let's find you some food, shall we?" Jaron muttered, continuing to walk along, his Force-veil resumed. More than that, though-he went so far as to hide his Force presence completely, such that he didn't seem like a normal person; he was a literal, walking blank spot in the Force, and yet one could see that he existed on the outside. And after that, it was a short step from merely hiding himself in that way to making himself a literal wound in the Force-as the technique performed drew more power, he would draw power from all about him, becoming a wound in the Force for a short time, having mastered the ability to switch between states at will.

 

However, as he walked, he could still feel the anger, the resentment, the betrayal emanation from Faraxa; despite her assurance not to treat him as a Jedi might normally, her pain was still there. Barely shaking his head, he continued along, before reaching with short tendrils of his consciousness to soothe the anger and betrayal, to dim them, take them from the forefront; Faraxa needed a clear head, after all, and that could not be achieved with such emotions coursing about.

 

And before long he stopped, drawing within himself again; older thoughts were coming to back to the forefront of his mind, the leading edge of his cognitive ability being focused on these thoughts; could he make an apprentice of Faraxa? Surely, she would resist..and yet, in her current state, she was...susceptible to influence, was she not? - he had already demonstrated that it was so.

 

And yet...at the moment, that would be more taking advantage of her than providing her an opportunity. No, he would have to wait a while longer.

 

"Where would you like to eat?"

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: Cyare

 

After a long time, Cyare wasn't really sure how long, nor did she care, she felt the jump to hyperspace. An unknown span of time later, she paused in her maintenance. After a moment, she reached up, and flipped a switch on her helment."Manda. How long until we reach our objective?"

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC-Cabur:

 

"About three days," Cabur replied, rolling his eyes. Back in the armour so soon. "We're right on one of the trade lanes, so we'll get there faster than usual. Still, though, I recommend you get some sleep instead of staying awake until we get there."

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: Cyare

 

"Understood."In stark contrast to the reply, she rose off of her bunk, gripping her vibroblade. She had not practiced for far too long. There was a quiet sound of boots on metal as she stepped out of her room, and slid the door shut behind her. While Cabur used this space to store his belongings, Cyare used it for a very different purpose.

 

It was, for lack of a better description, her practice area. More or less empty, it was a wide space used to keep her fit during the long tripes between jobs.

 

Sinking into a ready stance, she took a deep breath. After a moment, she launched into a series of hacks, slashes, and thrusts. She didn't bother turning the comm channel off. Cabur would make his comments heard one way or another, and switching off the comm merely meant he would have to do it in person.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Faraxa Sabosen [Coruscant]

 

Faraxa continued to follow Jaron through the crowded walkways. Through the Force, she felt his surprisingly calm presence pull in on itself. Soon, she felt nothing but a normal being's presence in it's place, perhaps a bit of Force sensitivity, but nothing to attract attention. However, his presence continued to lessen, untill Faraxa found that she couldn't feel... anything in the Force there. She blinked. She was looking right at him, but her presence outward was telling her that there was nothing in his place. It was then, that Faraxa realised that he could completely hide himself in the Force. Not just lessen his presence, but completely hi-

 

Suddenly, he went a bit further, and ripped a hole in the Force around him. There wasn't any other way for her to describe it. It was if the Force was just... gone. Never before had she experienced such a thing. For an instant, there was a void where Jaron was, devoid of... anything. It was unnatural.

 

After a while, her intial anger and feeling of betray faded. It left her feeling empty and lost. But most of all, just tired. All these things happening at once, it was all too much for her to take in.

 

"Uh," the Devaronian said, glancing around. With all of these things happening, she had completely forgotten about food, and everything else. Well, there was a small diner nearby, and Faraxa didn't particularly care where they went at the moment. "Over there, I suppose..."

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OOC: Alright. This has been coming for awhile....

 

I've failed. This was my first real try at an RPG and it's basically on life support. This is utterly my fault, I didn't design it well enough I think. It was dependent on the staff for movement and I added in other staff members too late to make any real difference.

 

That said, I've learned from this. I have other ideas, other projects in the works, though it'll be some time before they can see the light of day. I'm not done with RPG's yet. Not by a long shot.

 

I'm asking the staff to close this RPG. I've pulling the proverbal plug, but at least I'm leaving this a bit wiser then before.

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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