The Living Force

Wed Sep 16, 2009 7:16 pm by The Fallen Lord

*Sigilius looks on as Serene and Gargidian open the gateway. When he believes iit is successfull he sends a message to his apprentice*

<< You have done well young one. You have made your master proud today. >>

Thu Sep 17, 2009 3:55 am by Gargidian

*Gargidian nodded at Serene.*

<< Sigilius, you and Lorelai must go through now whilst we keep the gateway open. The exit is on Zonama Sekot. Once you are through and in true form, Serene and I will return to our Falleen bodies and come to retrieve you. >>

Thu Sep 17, 2009 4:04 am by Chaos

*Chaos stirred all of his being into one shadow figure, forming into a humanoid shape he looked around and began to charge for the gateway.

Jumping between Serene and Gargidian, Chaos hit the event horizon and dissapeared through the vortex. Although part of him remained to keep the Dark Side stable, Chaos had been released. Many Millenia of waiting and building up ready to destroy Harmony and the Light Side.

Chaos vanished through the gateway, entering the Physical Realm in his true form.*

Thu Sep 17, 2009 5:00 am by The Fallen Lord

*Sigilius grabs a hold of Lorelei's hand and looked at her*

Its time we returned to the living. Lets go.

*Sigilius looks towards the gateway and begins to run at an inhumanly speed towards it. When he gets close enough he and Lorelei jump into it.*

Thu Sep 17, 2009 10:27 am by Gargidian

*After the three sentients had passed, the energy of Serene and Gargidian dispurted into the air. The Dark Lord turned to Serene.*

<< Serene... shortly we shall be returned to the Temple on Falleen. Once we are there we will have to journey to Zonama Sekot. Come... you have done well young one. There is a place for you within the Commonwealth, who knows perhaps one day you will take Sigilius place as Drakidian will mine and run the DC. >>

*As Gargidian finished his image began to fade. More and more his dissapeared... until his image was gone.*

Thu Sep 17, 2009 7:46 pm by Serene Carmody

*Serene watched Sigilius, Lorelei and Chaos walk through the gateway. She rested her hands to the side as soon as the energy ceased. She watches as she faded away with Gargidian back to the temple*

Fri Sep 25, 2009 12:04 pm by Seleck Tanes

*As the steaming foetid pool of what could only loosely be described as water lapped softly against the shore, almost goading Seleck to take another step into it he mused over the words of the woman whom had only just faded from his side. He took another glance into the grey-green water, the mere sight of it making his flesh tingle at the prospect of returning to it's murky depths. Quickly jerking his head away he reclined against a mossy rock and took a piece of emerald green grass between his fingers and began to fiddle with it delicately as he gazed up at the cloudless sky.

Perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all? He pondered, indeed the idea of spending eternity in an infinite realm of seamless beauty, save for the vile pool of liquid beside him suddenly didn't seem so bad anymore.

As luck would have it however, Seleck's sudden affinity for the netherworld became irrelevant. He felt his spirit fade, the pain as his soul was ripped from the afterlife was immense as he fell through darkness, screaming.*

Wed Oct 21, 2009 10:59 am by The Keeper of Time

*A mist washed over the realm as a figured appeared from the land of the light.* *It was Xavier, the Keeper of Time. He had just arrived from the realm called Harmony and must balance himself and his ancient soul.*

*He sat down cross legged and placed his hands on his knees. Closing his eyes, he began to chant in an odd language, Selkatha.*

Thu Jan 14, 2010 11:55 pm by Aalia Ra

*It was suddenly different. One moment she saw Dace Concordia's face, the next...

Aalia simply saw. There was no lack of it. No closing or opening the eyes. There were no eyes. There was feeling. But not with hands, or fingers, or feet, or joints. Simply the sensation of being connected to everything at once.

There was no sense of self.

Who was she? She was everything and everyone. She was nothing and no one. She possessed billions of names. She had no name. Like a drop of water in a great stream, she was the stream. She was the flow. She was not the stream. She was not the flow. She had no identity. She had every identity.

She had no understanding that she was in it. She had no concept that the flow existed.

She couldn't remember anymore. The face she had thought she remembered vanished as if it had never existed. She did not remember the face. She did not know she ever had remembered anything.

There was nothing to remember. She was nothing in a great big something. Always moving, but standing still. Always watching, but never seeing. Always feeling, but never comprehending.

For how long it had been that way, she would never know.

That question itself would never even form...*

Fri May 07, 2010 6:39 pm by Veshnim Kanth

*When Veshnim's eyes opened, he saw an endless nothing. He was floating in a void of twisting streams of black and white, nothing else visible no matter how he turned. It wasn't the same sort of floating as he had experienced in the bacta tank; there was nothing holding him up, no buoyancy lifting him and keeping him in position, but neither was their any gravity. He was impossibly light, but no matter how he flailed his arms and legs he could not move his body. Arms? Startled, he looked to his left. Sure enough, there was an arm where before there had been only a burnt stump. He looked down; his body was entirely devoid of the scars it had endured during the battle with the Sith.

Where was he? Had he died? It seemed unlikely that he had passed away in a bacta tank. So what was going on? He tried again to move; having lived all his life on Mustafar, he did not have the faintest idea of how to swim, but even if he had he was almost sure it wouldn't have done him any good. And then he felt the wind; it stirred the twisting light and darkness, neither warm nor cool. It simply was, and as it moved over his body he felt it embrace him like a lost lover from the underworld of myth, neither fully real nor entirely illusory. And then it did what he could not. Pushing ever so gently, it bore him along through the intermingled strands of opposite energies, slowly gathering speed.

Soon he was truly flying, soaring upward, downward, side to side, but always forward as well. His eyes widened, then shut: he was headed straight for a solid wall of darkness. Yet he came harmlessly though it with nothing more than a lingering dampness on his face. Opening his eyes again, he beheld an awesome sight: the tiny streams of energy made up vast clouds like the one from which he had just emerged. It was like he was in a forest of rope, strings of light and darkness intertwined into vaster strands of both. Red and blue sparks leapt from the intersection of the two types of energy, clashing against one another and exploding outward like dying stars.*

Fri May 07, 2010 6:39 pm by Veshnim Kanth

*Suddenly, the strands were moving even faster than he was, stretching and distending as though entering hyperspace. They leapt toward a single point, compacting into one spherical mass of roiling grey energy. Lightning ran over its surface, leaping out into the void every so often to touch the nothingness before retreating. And then, as suddenly as they had coalesced, they burst out again. It was blinding in its brilliance; Veshnim shut his eyes and threw up an arm - his left - to shield them. And when the afterimage had faded from its position engraved on his pupils, he opened them again and beheld the last thing he ever expected to see: his mother.

She was giant; his entire body was scarcely half the length of her nose, and only because he was so far away could he see from her shoulders to the top of her head. She did not see him; her eyes, entirely black like his own, stared past her firstborn at something that wasn't there.* "Blasted offworld corps are bleeding us dry," *she said, the massive sigh she expelled along with the words threatening to blow the rebel leader away.* "There's going to be nothing left for Veshnim by the time he grows up, let alone the others, but we're all too busy killing each other to do anything about it. Someone needs to make these bantha-heads see reason."

*She had spoken in such a way often; her personality had been fiery, but her words were more inclined to make others angry than to promote compromise. Before Veshnim's eyes she faded away, her face turning into a cloud of ash and shifting into another one he knew well: his soft-spoken father, kind and cautious.* "Always be extra careful with the detonators, Veshnim," *he warned, his features old and careworn even at the time from which this vision came.* "I knew good people who lost limbs because they got too complacent with these. Remember: always respect anything that can kill, no matter how often you encounter it."

Fri May 07, 2010 6:40 pm by Veshnim Kanth

*As his father's face melted away in turn, Veshnim closed his eyes again in sorrow. What would the old man think of him now? He had caused so much death, and even though it was for a cause he firmly believed in the cold, hard numbers of those who would never again draw breath still remained. Respect the things that can kill; had he done that when he had begun this war? He had entered the conflict full of high hopes and high talk, offering a chance at freedom and self rule, and he had calculated the costs it might incur, but he had not looked at his soldiers, his supporters, as people, individual beings possessing as much right to life as he did.

He was, perhaps, still a lesser evil than the Sith; neither their ends nor their means benefitted anyone but themselves, and at least his ends were pure. But were they really? His hopes, his ideals, were all constructs that had come to him after long isolation and meditation, time spent communing with the Force, but all of them had been buried in him before then, since his childhood. He hadn't been serving the will of the Force, as he had told himself, but his own will, struggling to fulfill goals he had been subconsciously creating ever since he had been a young child. He had seen those he loved suffer because of offworlders; in a way, he himself had suffered because of them. Was his rebellion for freedom or vengeance?

When next he opened his eyes, he stood in the quarry where his father had supervised demolition operations. None of the workers, all fifty of whom he knew by name from the many days he had spent here, seemed to notice him. And then he saw his father, his back stooped and his face weary. His mother was updating him on remaining supplies and the composition of the rock they were to blast through when, suddenly, a small child slid down a rubble chute and tumbled to his feet. With a start, Veshnim realized that he was looking at himself. He was clamoring for attention, and his parents, with much work to do, were trying their hardest to pacify him. He felt a twinge of guilt tempered by amusement; evidently he had been demanding when he was young.*

Fri May 07, 2010 6:40 pm by Veshnim Kanth

*Eventually his mother departed to lead her team on their next operation, and his father did his best to work with a child scampering around his feet, babbling and playing with whatever he could lay hands on. After a while, he turned up his little youthful face to meet the aged one of his father; eagerly, without thinking, he voiced a strange question.* "Daddy, if I blew my arm off, would you still love me?" *His father froze in his work, then knelt, his eyes level with those of his first and only male child.* "Of course I would still love you, Veshnim; I will always love you, no matter what. But you don't have to worry about anything like that. You're my son, and I know you; you're much too smart to lose an arm playing with things you don't understand."

*The words, meant as praise, now stung the rebel leader; he looked left again, and this time there was no arm there. The stump smoked as though it had been freshly slashed open with the Sith's lightsaber. Had he been playing with things he didn't understand? Perhaps, in a way, he had. With so little water in their bodies, Mustafarians did not cry, but Veshnim shut his eyes a moment in quiet contemplation. When he opened them again, his mother's image was back, strong and proud. He remembered asking her the same question.* "Love you? Of course. And you know why? Even if you were that stupid, you'd still be my son, so you would keep going anyway."

*He smiled at the recollection; it had always seemed, when he was young, that he would take more after his father, but as he grew that prediction changed. Now he almost wished that it had not; his mother had given him many admirable characteristics that had brought him a long way in life, but his father's patient, careful wisdom could have saved him and so many others so much pain. But he was committed now; there was no going back until it was over, one way or the other. And no matter how foolish his rebellion was, no matter what mistakes he had made, he would keep going; it was the only way to make it all worth it. His eyes closed again, and his spirit was drawn back to the bacta tank, departing the strange realm of the Force.*

Wed May 19, 2010 10:23 pm by Jade Phoenix

*A girl, seeming to be a teenager, if not maybe early twenties walked through the area known as Harmony. A green dress she wore and it flowed behind her lightly as she walked.*

*For 10 years had she walked the plain of death. She lost track of time, and above all, lost track of everything that existed around her, living or dead. She had seen her daughters but no longer knew where thy existed. She could only walk, wondering if her family would ever be reunited again.*

*As she walked, an area in front of her seem to warp. It seemed to be something of a rift, possibly between the living plain and this plain. Perhaps someone was getting resurrected and in doing so affected the area slightly.

She approached it, be careful in case something were to happen, though as she got close, it pulled her in, pulling her out of the place where the dead made their home.*

Thu Sep 09, 2010 1:03 pm by Gabriel Solomon

I open my eyes and fund myself on a grey slate of ground. Thinking I am still on Bespin I jump up and reach for my saber. My head buzzes and my hand can't find my weapon. In fact my normal clothes are gone, I am simply in robes. I look around, nothing but grey. I remember what happened and the memory causes my legs to give out and I fall back to the ground calling Kiko's name.

Sat Sep 11, 2010 7:07 am by Inferno

*Faded into the Netherworld was the form of a man in a tattered, hooded robe the color of black. His was raised, and no weapons could be perceived on his person. Though in the Realm of the Dead, what use would anyone have for such killing tools? And so this man looked around briefly, having already grown quite familiar with this place over the the course of some time, on several different occasions.
His reason for returning to this place was unclear, though perhaps it was a means of escape. Or perhaps he was moving toward something. Or perhaps it was not something to poetic, and this course of action merely stemmed from boredom. His, or that of another's.*

Sat Sep 11, 2010 10:28 am by Gabriel Solomon

"There is no way to measure time here." I thought sourly. There was nothing to do in theis grey world, the force was all around me but I could not tap into it, nor could I distinguish landmarks. I did not know how long or far I had been walking, perhaps I had not moved at all, perhpas I had walked miles. I felt neither rested nor tired. Hunger and thirst id not seem to even matter here. The worst part was the lack of time. It was frustrating... It could have been hours, days or even years and I would not know...

I had to return... I had to do something... Perhpas If I could contact Kiko through the force... I sit down and begin meditating.

Sat Sep 11, 2010 2:22 pm by Inferno

*The hooded man had made note of another whom had been walking for some time, and appeared frustrated. How long could one venture through the Netherworld and cover no ground. Surely, one could walk 'til the end of days and find that he had gone no further than where he had originally started. Maddening.*

*Once the man had sat down to meditate, the hooded man had also approched, and sat down beside him. He made no motion to intentionally make himself known, nor attempt to introduce himself. But he merely sat down a few feet nearby*

Sat Sep 11, 2010 4:13 pm by Gabriel Solomon

In the middle of the seemingly pointless meditation I feel the presence of another. The meditation was pointless because there seemed to be no peace here, I was somehow not able to connect to the force. I was left sitting cross legged on the ground for absoluetly nothing! I turn my head to face the new arrival, a completely useless gesture do to my blindness, I could barely see his form in the force.

"How'd you die?" I ask.

Sat Sep 11, 2010 5:15 pm by Inferno

*The man looked up from is somewhat distanced demeanor to address the gaze of this stranger with a look of surprise. Though most of his face was concealed within the shadows of his hood, he did look alarmed, almost as if he did not notice the man who had been sitting there prior to his own arrival, even though it was very apparent that he had already noticed him sitting where he was.*

"I...."

*Visions past through the minds of this mysterious one, recollections of being on Manaan, and taking a nasty blaster bolt atop the roof of a tall skyscraper, the end result being he who had been shot, plummeting down the long fall toward the endless sea.
And then, another vision. A vison of being defeated most unfairly by the worst of persons. Felled in an unfair fight by the lightsaber of an unworthy opponent. Exhausted beyond physically heathly, and at least, beheaded. Fighting for what seemed such a noble cause, which turned out to be very, very ignoble later on. Defending the honor of she who had none, and playing the role of the fool. To be defeated in body, soul, and finally, his heart.
Then the last of these visions situated him on the Forest Moon, on board a claustrophobic ship. Dagger in hand. Slowly the blade lifted toward the juggular, and by his own hand was slain. Perhaps the most gory of these, and yet the man was not moved. His expression betrayed not these visions in his mind. And so, in confusion he shook his head, as to clear it from these images that all seemed as if they never really happened. And if they had, it was so long ago.*

"... I honestly don't remember."

*Slowly he leaned forward, as if to whisper something private to the man before him. Though, interestingly enough, his tone remained of the same volume*

"Do you remember how you died?"

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