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Silas Kitsuchi

Sith Apprentice
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About Silas Kitsuchi

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    Noble Sorcerer

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  1. Birthright

    Silas swallowed, throat parched and feeling even more light headed than he was when he brained that alien woman. Darth Sanguira was a sight enough for one lifetime, and Silas had seen her one too many. Wasn't it enough that he kept their secret already? The redhead knew that the slightest slip of the tongue, and he would have been dead and the thought of using that knowledge as blackmail never crossed his mind. It was difficult for him to form connections, let alone allies somewhere higher up, that could use the secret of the Sith'ari's spawn. On one hand, he didn't want to come with her. On the other, he didn't want to stay in this mosquito-infested pit either. It wasn't that hard to make a decision. He was getting tired of the mosquito-infested pits anyway. "Thank you, my lord." Silas smiled, pushing the queasiness in his stomach down, knew that his expression looked more like a grimace. Then there was the mention of her children. Well, kriff. It wasn't that the redhead hated children, but he couldn't quite get himself to like them either. However, any attention from them didn't seem good in his books. "I am... glad that they seem to be in good spirits." She seemed too cheery for Silas, and cheery Sith women had his hackles rising every time. So, he was rightfully wary, because one of the Dark Lord's entourage appeared not too long after, The man was tall and Silas' gaze lingered on the hand on the chest, before looking up. There was something about this man that seemed familiar, but this wasn't the time to reminiscence. The man extended his left hand, and Silas narrowed his eyes as he shook it. His hands were a little clammy, but he made sure to make his grip as firm as possible. If there was a little help from the Force, it was a tiny smidgen that was barely noticeable. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Kitsuchi." Silas couldn't stop the grimace at the smile that was all teeth. "The sentiment is the same, milord. However, I do wish that we could have met at a time I had less viscera on my robes." The redhead actually froze when the Dark Lord's... assistant? Manservant? Got far too close for comfort and whispered in his ear. He already had one Sith Lord in his personal bubble, Silas had no need for two. "Come see me sometime soon, I have a proposition for you and Magus." The smile afterwards just made Silas a lot more uncomfortable, feeling a lot more like a specimen under a microscope instead of a Sith Acolyte. The fact that the man had to tell Darth Sanguira to play nice had Silas growing twice as weary. As much as he wanted to push the woman off, he had no idea how she would react and he didn't want to set her temper off either. Which also meant risking the Sith'ari's temper. 'I am trapped in this hellhole.' Silas tried and nearly failed as he kept his expression neutral when he caught the Dark Lord's gaze, before the man turned and moved out with his manservant following afterwards. Summoning as much bravery as he could muster, he turned to Darth Sanguira. "Where to next, then?"
  2. Birthright

    Silas took a shuddering breath, gripping his weapon tight. How the woman managed words despite nearly turning into green meat paste was beyond him, and he couldn't quite care. He could hear his heart thundering behind his ears, minute shakes he couldn't hide no matter how much he gathered all his rage - which was always lacking. He had to kill her, or he will die as well. "I'll try to make it as painless as possible." The first strike was horrid. The tip of the barb just left a horrible bruise forming on the Mirialian's forehead, nicking some skin and a little bit of her alien blood flowed out. Kriff, Silas' hands were still shaking, and she wasn't properly dead just yet. Taking another deep breath, he slammed his training blade with all his strength on her forehead again. There was a loud crack that sickened him to the pit of his stomach. His training weapon left an uneven indent on her skull, slightly caved in. A burst of blood flew out when Silas pulled it out, her eyes still somewhat bright with life, Fragments of her skull stuck at the end of his training saber, blood and a strangely colored fluid began to drip from her nostrils. He must have burst a vein, green filling one scelera. In the Force, he could still feel her clinging to life. Silas can't live if she does. With another strike, Silas felt his strength waver at the last minute and he ended up striking the side of her head close to her ear. Another loud crack - much too loud, in Silas' opinion - echoed. Her brain was strangely yellow as it oozed out of the first wound, mixing with the other fluids already there. More skull fragments had gone loose, the skin had stretched and ripped around the flesh surrounding her skull, her hair was an absolute mess - spread around her head like a dark halo. Silas tried fighting back the sick feeling growing in his stomach, resisting the urge to have his stomach fluids mixing with her cranial juice. There was already a horrible smell emitting from her exposed brain. Her forehead two-thirds caved in and somehow - somehow - she was still alive. Now, Silas was more annoyed than disgusted, the queasy feeling in his stomach dying down because why won't she fucking die? Mustering his strength another time, Silas slammed the training weapon on her forehead, resolutely ignoring the too loud squelch as the blade pierced whatever part of her brain that wasn't already damaged. Blood exploded out from the two craters that was her cranium, grey matter splattering out and into the floor (and Silas' shoes) in a spray of yellowish-green. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets, more green bleeding into her scelera and out of her tear tear ducts, rolling into the back of her head and exposing more burst veins. There was still a spark of life left in her, and all Silas had to do to snuff it out was twist. There was another loud squelch as Silas proceeded to turn the rest of her brain into mash, could somehow feel the end of his blade scraping inside her skull, spreading more bone fragments and blood inside the cavity. Somehow, some of her brain matter made its way out of her nostrils, dripping down the sides of her cheeks. She was alien, and to Silas - it looked more like vomit than an actual organ. Thankfully, that was enough to finally snuff out the light that was her life. It was... rather pathetic. It didn't dramatically die away like a candle suddenly blown away by the wind - rather, it slowly snuffed out on its own like a whisper, leaving no trace or hint that there was something significant in the space it once occupied. Now that it's over, the redhead suddenly realized that his heart was beating too fast in his chest as it started to slow down. The adrenaline rush from braining someone began to die out, and Silas was suddenly aware that he just murdered someone just to avoid his own. That and his weapon was still stuck in the woman's cranial cavity. The noble tugged at his weapon, frowning as it seemed to be stuck despite the mess he made of the alien's skull. He gave it another pull, putting more strength. It didn't come out. Grunting, Silas held on to it tighter, and poured whatever strength he had left and pulled as hard as he can. There was a loud squelch as the training blade came out of what used to be a head. Blood, brains, cranial fluid, and bones went out in a large arc - Silas realizing belatedly he put in too much strength as he stumbled back and had viscera splattering his clothes. It was absolutely disgusting. Except, when it meant survival.... What were a few skulls to crush?
  3. Birthright

    Silas tried brushing the ashes off. He wasn't quite as... excitable as his peers, yet he would be a fool not to follow. The speech had been nearly exhilarating, had the redhead not been grounded by the fact that should the Dark Lord of the Sith recognize him, he could be potentially dead. Seeing Sanguira and Atrox together had instilled an increase in his heart rate with no chance of coming down the longer he stood in the training pits. As far as he could see, treason and disobedience were not options - granted, it wasn't just fear that motivated him. The Sith'ari's aims to show the galaxy that the Sith were still there, that they still held power meant... something better, infinitely. If it was a chance to move back to Korriban or leave for another world that was once under the Empire's control, then who was Silas to question it? It was certainly better than this shit hole of an academy - with its oppressive heat and obnoxious insects, or the humidity and barely maintained facilities. Why waste resources on comfort when it could be used to subjugate the natives instead? At the very least, Darth Atrox were giving the academy a step up from this place. For a moment, Silas felt his heart stop. A Mirialian woman stood up and pretty much challenged the Sith'ari's authority. That was a horribly wrong move. And just why did Silas had to stand close enough to see her held down by the Dark Lord? He could feel all his insides seize up, dread settling at the back of his head, mindless fear screaming at him to run yet his limbs remained frozen. Taking a piss before leaving for the Pits counted for something, at least. He could hear Darth Atrox speak, yet Silas could not register the words. Gaze stuck on the sight of the alien woman crushed under the Dark Lord's power. He swallowed. Hard. "Silas, your fear shows I can not trust you - but you would be wise to do my bidding unless you desire a similar fate," Silas heard Darth Atrox's voice inside his head, "Prove you are more of a man than a simple noble that has grown stagnant. Execute the woman and find yourself pulled into the ranks of those wishing to escape this pile of refuse." There was no need to nod, but there was a need to act. Almost stiffly, Silas ambled his way towards the Mirialian. He stopped right in front of her, hands shaking as he took out his training saber. The barbs weren't designed to kill, but with a little creativity however.... "Sorry," Silas whispered to himself. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he had a feeling it would be perceived as a weakness. His blue eyes were large and terrified, but his self-preservation gave him enough resolve to hold the hilt with both hands.
  4. There's Nothing You Can Do

    At first there was a lack of sensation, everything turning into blank. There was no sensation nor perception, but it was gone as quick as it came. Pain followed in a powerful burst, spreading from the back of his head to the insides of his skull. It felt like the entirety of his spine rattled from that single blow. Belatedly, that was when Silas realized he was on his knees, grasping his hair and trying not to gasp. Tears gathered at the corner of his burning eyes, and he felt something crack in his jaw as he ground in teeth in pain. Every inch of his body trembled, skin electric and tender. He really wanted to glare at the woman that appeared out of nowhere. He was too surprised to react properly, choking when she spoke, and now too disoriented to differentiate between up and down. His face burned in humiliation, face set in a grimace. It felt like an eternity before Silas managed to stop the spinning enough to stagger to his feet. He put both hands on his knees next to support himself, tasting blood. Oh, he bit his cheeks. Great. "... fine." As much as Silas hated doing what he was told, fighting back too much meant more pain - which meant he'll be painting a bigger target on his back. He'd have to swallow his pride for now - even if he thought that dealing with women barely wearing anything would be beyond disgusting. "I would prefer cleaning the pits, to be honest. But if it must be done."
  5. There's Nothing You Can Do

    "Being degraded to lowly job?! When I was a fledgeling Sith, the masters threw me into an overused morgue to clean it with my tongue as punishment - and you're going to tell me this is a lowly job?! Frack - killing you would be -" Silas considered what he was going to say next. For one thing, what the Darth had said seemed... overtly ridiculous. It couldn't possibly be true. That and it was disgusting. The redhead was already having disgusted shivers when he tried imagining it. He shook his head. There's a very pissed Sith Lord that singled Silas out for some reason, in public, right in the middle of training, It was already quite humiliating and he was rather sure no one would live it down. He had no idea why he deserved to be punished over a training droid he tried to retrieve. Well, perhaps mouthing off a Darth had plenty to do with it, but shouldn't it be a non-issue since someone already returned it? Wasn't getting stuck in the infirmary and nearly dying punishment enough? Why was the Librarian making such a big deal over something so small, anyway? "Are you telling me... that attending to the needs of your fellow Sith... is degrading and lowly? That it's beneath you?" "Not exactly, my Lord," Silas answered, giving his surroundings a quick glance. He stared back at Darth Verrin, an undercurrent of fear behind his proud visage. The teen was afraid for his life, despite that though, he was absolute with his conviction. It wasn't that he thought that playing a towel boy was lowly, it's just that he had enough experience with Sith women to know where it could possibly end. Other than that, Sith women could get their own damned towels. "I'm sure that they can get it themselves, and I doubt they'd want me half a mile close to where they are and that rather makes the point and effort moot." "I doubt they'd want an eighteen year old kid snooping around a place where it's supposed to be private and away from men in the first place." Silas let out a sharp breath, blowing some of the longer strands that fell right in front of his face. He pushed them back with his left hand before continuing. "And I don't think I would be useful for manual labor either - unless the goal is to ultimately see humiliated and fail whatever task you deem suitable as punishment." Silas frowned, feeling extremely uneasy at this line of thinking. If hard labor was unsuitable, and research too easy - then there was one logical solution in punishing him: pain. He didn't receive anything too severe or life-threatening, except from that Sith woman in the forests, so the redhead was sure that his pain tolerance was pathetically low. Unless... it wouldn't be too bad? Sith hells, there was no way out, was there?
  6. There's Nothing You Can Do

    "Wait - someone bought it back?" And Silas dreaded the possibility of who that someone could be. His eyes were wide and he could feel his knees going weak. He had spent hours looking for the karking thing, and he almost died for it. Some of the acolytes in the pits were there when they found him in the forest floor, running hot with fever and nursing half a dozen of infections. 'Don't be stupid, it could be any of those savages living here,' Silas tried to reason with himself. As long as it was not that one, then he could breathe easy. If it was, then he was karked. "I'm sure you DO have the funds to replace it, young man. Just as I have the 'funds' to replace YOU. But that is not our lot in life, at the present time. We are not at liberty to simply dispose of droids, or potential Sith, and 'buy new ones'. We have to cherish what we have, and TAKE CARE OF IT." "Right, I do agree with cherishing important things and taking care of them. It just happened that something more important than a hunk of metal and circuitry needed more care at the time." The redhead wanted to fidget and shift, hells, he wanted to bend down and pick up the devices scattered all over the floor. Except, he couldn't really move especially when facing someone from the Dark Council. Animals didn't survive once they took off their eyes from bigger predators, after all. Silas was practically frozen with fear, the lightsaber just about touching his chest. He could actually feel sweat dripping down his forehead, and the teen was suddenly aware that Verrin had his thumb on the activation. Kark, he screwed up. "Perhaps you didn't hear me, Kitsuchi. I just explained that destroying property and potential Sith is wasteful and dangerous. So if you're telling me to execute you, then either you aren't listening very well, or you aren't a potential Sith." "Look, it was either that or you were actually planning on sending me back out.... there." He suppressed a shudder. Silas could still remember getting lost for what felt like hours, nearly dying, and getting stuck in the medbay trying to stay awake as long as possible because he was genuinely terrified that he bought his would-be-murderer home. Hopefully, he did not. "If you are unable, or unwilling to listen to me... if prior instruction hasn't worked... then I can only hope that somehow, your peers will be able to educate you better on the importance of discretion and responsibility in these difficult times." Well, that was it, Silas was really going to die. A lot of acolytes thought he was still alive because he was rich and undeserving of being called a Sith. Hells, he even sometimes thought he wasn't fully deserving. Except he wanted to nurture and grow on his own, and become someone powerful and respectable. He didn't want to become a footnote in history as the son of some officer and businessman, he wanted to make a name for himself. Except, it seemed like a rather pissed off Darth was ready to cut his life short, and probably wanted to make his death as painful as possible. "You will hereby serve as 'towel boy' for the next three weeks." "That isn't so bad. Wait, I take it back." As far as experiences went for Silas and Sith women, the redhead had interacted with one too many. He wasn't keen at all with interacting with so many of them at a long period of time. Fifteen days felt too much. "During that time, I am SURE that your fellow Sith will help you learn the lessons you need. They, being closer to you, surely know best how to get through to you." "My lord, I... well, I believe we are all already very acquainted, and I am not at all interested being degraded to a lowly job." Already, some of the female acolytes were shooting him dirty looks, while some of the males looked like they'd want to be in his position. Silas wasn't insane, he could very well die the moment he stepped in. Besides, it wasn't like there was a shortage of acolytes trying to hurt or kill him in his sleep when he was recovering. Hells, he ended up trying to double the security to his room, because people kept trying to get in and Silas just wanted his peace and quiet.
  7. There's Nothing You Can Do

    Silas jumped and let out a high-pitched yelp, holobooks and datapads clattered on the floor in loud thuds. He had gone pale, his freckles contrasting even more against his skin. He whipped behind and paled even further. Right behind him was Darth Verrin. Silas had yet to really interact with the Sith Lord, and the redhead had somehow managed not to end up meeting him whenever he was in the library. Granted, he often borrowed and returned materials for study, but he had yet to go out of his way to actually meet up with notable Sith Lords. Not since Korriban, in any case. "It's stuck in the forest, milord," Silas explained with a nervous twitch. "The savages are more likely to find it rather than the Republic." Besides, his father sent missives about the status of the Republic every now and then. As far as anyone was concerned, it's rebuilding and doesn't seem to keen to chase after leads that the Sith were still around. Then again, who knew? They could be bidding their time, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.... Still, that training droid would probably be covered in moss and fauna before anyone could find it. That and as much as it pained Silas, he could ask his father to be a little more generous with the donations to cover for it. Is there ANYthing you have to say for yourself that will keep me from killing you outright - or at the very least, reducing you to towel boy in the women's lockers?! Choose your words carefully, Kitsuchi... WELL?!" Silas swallowed audibly at the threat, gaze darting around the training pits. Plenty of his fellow acolytes looked rather eager at the promise of his punishment, while plenty of the Overseers present waited with interest. The redhead scowled at them and turned back to the Darth. "I could easily have the droid replaced. I have enough funds." That and his father would most likely tip the Republic or try to screw the Remnant over in retaliation. Maybe? Hopefully? That was, if he ever found out that Silas died. Losing a training droid hardly seemed something to get killed over, and they were low on numbers. Killing off an acolyte seemed counterproductive on keeping the Sith alive. "If you must punish me, I suppose getting a lightsaber to the chest is better than working as a towel boy," Silas deadpanned.
  8. There's Nothing You Can Do

    Melona 3, 3630BBY Training Pits, Dathomir Academy The training saber flew from Silas' hand before he knew it, and the teen was frozen as he stared down at the pointy end of another one. His opponent was sneering at him, and the most disgusted expression the redhead could manage was to sniff snootily before stepping away. "Again," the Overseer crowed out, and Silas ended up glaring at her. "Pick up your weapon and fight, Kitsuchi. You're not done yet." "This is pointless," he called back. "I can't really go back to the pits. I haven't been fully trained properly. Can't you ask someone else?" "Can't you suck it up like a good Sith instead of whining like a spoilt child? Or do you want me to drop you off in the forest to get you proper survival training?" The teen's cheeks and ears turned nearly as red as his hair. His fellow acolytes standing around the pits laughed uproariously at the reprimand. His opponent didn't laugh, but Silas could see the unimpressed look sent his way. It's been weeks since Silas got lost in the thick jungles of Dathomir. An Overseer bringing her class out for some survival training found him delirious, in pain, practically raving, and just on the brink of dying from shock. He had a lightsaber burn at the back of his neck that he didn't feel out of adrenaline, and the lightning that hit him had scarred all over his arms and legs. It took him two weeks just to recover, and he spent those two weeks as a jittery mess to scared to get out of bed. He so hated Sith women, then. "I hope you all die choking on hutt spit," Silas muttered, but he was already bending down to pick his training saber. He faced his opponent - another teen, rather thin, tattoos - and slipped into a basic Niman stance. The other acolyte charged forward, aggressive and quick, aiming for Silas' head. Using the Force, the redhead grabbed his opponent's leg, trying to make him trip. He rolled rather haphazardly on the ground and managed to crouch into a defensive position. Silas sidestepped an oncoming swipe at his midsection, and let out a sharp breath when the barb nearly grazed his side. A little annoyed that he lost to this little barve, Silas used the Force to push him away. His opponent was easily pushed back, and Silas smiled smugly at that. He couldn't enjoy his victory long enough, as the apprentice charged forward with an angry snarl. Instinctively, the redhead froze, and he would have probably have an injured arm if not for the Force making warning bells ring inside his head. He managed to dodge a strike aimed at his neck at the last minute, and used the other acolyte's momentum to pull him close. Silas swiped his saber at his opponent's leg. The acolyte fell down into a graceless heap, hissing and spitting, and looked like he was about to retaliate. So Silas swiped his weapon at the acolyte's right arm, earning him a glare. "Good job taking down a mediocre one, Kitsuchi. Thought you'd be a goner." The Overseer waved him over, and Silas was glad that this exercise in torture was over. "Right, you're both finished. Next!" Slaves dragged the injured acolyte off, and Silas had decided that that was not worth his time. So he took off and headed for one of the benches. He was just glad that this stupid exercise in self-flagellation was over, and he could now then concentrate on his interests. Which was learning Force-Based techniques and the Sith language. He just started on the Sith language, and trying to learn its grammar and vocabulary as he went. It's been interesting so far, if not a little rough on the throat and the head.
  9. Silas Kitsuchi

    Force Powers Enhancement Force Dash Force Jump Force Temperance Restoration Force Invigorate Protection Force Armor Astral Force Sense Telepathy Perception ~ Psychokinesis Telekinesis: Novice Force Wound Environment Force Shock Skills Lightsaber Novice Single Saber Novice Saber Staff Form I: Novice Shii-Cho Form VI: Novice Niman
  10. Into the Woods

    Silas knew he was a spoilt brat, that he had not known the face of true rage and suffering. He hadn't known what true fear was either. The attack in Korriban felt more like a surreal daydream instead of the nightmare that it was from the survivors that made it off. He was too distant from the fighting and defense then, stowing away in a Kaar's ship, and spent a few months with her in her native planet. Even then, he didn't fear much because the raw loss of Sith protected him from Darth Sanguira's wrath. This was the first time he was ever truly afraid. The Force shrieked in warning when the woman charged at Silas with her lightsabers activated. He quickly gathered the Force around himself to protect him from her weapons. The redhead tried to move out of the way at the saber aimed for his head, but invisible hands held him in place. Silas made a muffled sound when he very nearly almost had his knees chopped off, managing a last minute sidestep. He could feel his heart roaring against his ears, sweat dripping down his forehead. His blue eyes were wide and terrified, and his breath was out of control. 'I could have died.' Silas swallowed, glancing left and right. The fog was thick as ever, the trees tall and imposing. Decision made, Silas pulled the Force into him, quickly spinning on his heel, and then dashed forward at an inhuman speed. He reached out, trying to redetermine where he had come from, which was the direction back to the academy. The training droid can rust in a hole for all he cared. Half a minute later, Silas was running on normal speed, but he didn't dare look back to see if the strange woman in these strange woods had followed him.
  11. Into the Woods

    Silas managed to dodge the first few waves of lightning, but he wasn't entirely successful in dodging the rest. The redhead gritted his teeth, trying not to curl into himself as Force Lightning assaulted him. His grip on the Dark Side was not as powerful as hers, his hatred and rage have yet to reach a peak. At best, his connection through anger and suffering was tenuous. His strength lied in greed, after all. It was greed, pride, and the desire for power that fueled his connection to the Dark Side. Right now, this lowly, filthy woman dared touch him. 'How dare she?' Then the onslaught of lightning stopped. The redhead groaned and clumsily stood up, can feel some of his nerves and skin burn from the contact. Except, he refused to be defeated. In retaliation, Silas gathered his anger, pain, and frustration at being put down as if he was nothing more than a common mutt, and channeled it into the Dark Side. The pain was still there, difficult to ignore, but Silas simply used it to strengthen his hold over the Force. A feral sneer graced his lips, and Silas marched held his hand out towards the woman. "Who says I'm playing games?" He let the Dark Side course through his veins, lightning escaping from his fingertips and aimed towards the woman. He couldn't give her the same amount of fire power she showered him with, but Silas can make it hurt. He channeled and focused it to provide as much pain as possible. "Unless you have been living under a rock, Korriban's Sith Academy is gone. The Empire lies in ashes. We are the what remains of the Sith, and I refuse to die by the hand of a dark-side savage who couldn't even be bothered to know what happened after the holocaust in Dromund Kaas and Korriban. Have you been so blinded by your own ego that we have moved on while you still play power games with dead Kaars?" Despite the pain, Silas stood strong. He wanted to rest his limbs and sleep, but that meant certain death. He had no plans of dying, and not even a washed up dark-side user was going to change that.
  12. Into the Woods

    Silas narrowed his eyes when it looked like she wasn't listening any longer. He tried not to huff like he often did when nothing went his way. The redhead just wanted to get this trip in the forest over and done with, but he was lost and had no idea how to navigate his way back. The Force was murky and offered no clarity, and Silas seethed at its vagueness. Then he felt a... flicker, of something. It was a strange sensation, like insects skittering across his skin. Silas glanced around. Was it just him, or was the fog actually getting thicker? His awareness prickled, and he had to wonder if he really was alone with this strange woman. Now that Silas thought about it, an unusual kind of awareness prickled at the edge of his awareness, and the world seemed to flicker out of focus. He shook his head. It must be the exhaustion. "Where have you been for the past year?" The redhead blurted out, leaning away. He didn't like her expression, and staying with her was suddenly becoming a bad idea. As far as Silas was concerned, the Sith academy was common knowledge - Wait. There really was something not right here. The teen tried to stand up, but his body felt heavier than the usual. He pressed his lips into a thin scowl and glared at the woman. "I already said too much." What if she was an enemy? Silas wanted to give himself a kick to the head. He was about to volunteer information that was only supposed to be within the Sith Remnant. He was being far too trusting for an acolyte. He very nearly betrayed the Sith Remnant, and Silas would not stand for it. "Who are you and what do you want?"
  13. Into the Woods

    Silas' cheeks burned with slight embarrassment. Was there something wrong with what he said? Honestly, the stress of trying to find a wayward droid in the middle of a damp and sticky jungle messed with his head. "I thought that it would be easier to navigate by following my tracks, and there was supposed to be a cliff right behind me...." Silas blinked when the woman pulled off a chair, his gaze darted left and right. Where did she pull it? Was this some sort of illusion? Was he drugged? The still aching scrapes and forming bruises would like to tell that Silas wasn't dreaming, but he couldn't help but find the whole thing surreal. "I think I may have misplaced the cliff." "Well, rancors better prepare themselves for a world of disappointment." Silas crossed his arms over his chest, but he did sit down on the offered seat. His cheeks were tinged almost as red as his hair, and he found himself very insecure about his physical appearance. Many of his male colleagues often boasted enormous or well-developed physiques. If not for the fact that his father often made enormous donations to the Sith academy, none of the instructors or older academy students would step in for him whenever the bigger acolytes thought he'd make a good hitting post. "I'm all skin and bones, like you said." "I don't want to return to the academy without it." The redhead's answer was casual. Had she seen it? It's not like Silas can't buy a replacement, but rumors were starting to spin out of control that he bought his way into the academy. He didn't want to be seen as wastefully destroying equipment left and right either simply because his father supported the Remnant's operations financially. "Funding isn't a problem, but the requisitions officer is probably tired of seeing my face just to ask for a replacement training droid every month."
  14. Into the Woods

    Silas found himself staring at the woman before him. Was she a native? Silas had yet to encounter Dathomir's local populace, but he had heard that they were savages divided by tribe. Looking at the woman in front of him, she didn't seem a feral barbarian ready to rip his throat out with her teeth. The Force prickled beneath Silas' skin, and the teen straightened to appear dignified than he felt. "I'm not lost and I can make my way back," Silas said in a polite tone. "I'm just looking for some training equipment. It's a practice droid that emulates blaster fire." Still, the redhead found her... strange. He could feel the dark side curl and circle around her like an old lover. However, for some reason, there was something about her that seemed familiar. Not her physical appearance, but rather something about her was trying to make the connection at the back of his head. Silas could always ask, she didn't seem like she was hostile the longer the redhead stared. If anything, she sounded curious - excited even. Could she just be a SIth that ended up in Dathomir like the most of the Empire? Now that he tried to get a better feeling from her, he became acutely aware of eyes on his back. He didn't try expanding his senses besides what was necessary to track the droid, because he did not want to find out what exactly lurked behind the fog. He glanced back and his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't find where the cliff was. If Silas were to step away from the woman's line of sight, he might not even find her, and it could take days - no, weeks, before he could return to civilization. If he survived, that is. The Academy shouldn't be far away, but Silas might just end up travelling further than toward it. He could try using the Force to lead him there, but what if the interference from Dathomir led him astray instead? The redhead didn't want to encounter the rancors or natives that belonged in this planet. Except, he already encountered someone that looked somewhat at home within the dense jungles. Rather reluctantly, he turned back to the woman. "I apologize for the rudeness. My name is Silas Kitsuchi." He took a calming breath, gathering his anxiety through the Force and holding it close. "I miscalculated. I am lost." Silas shifted on his feet, a sheepish smile in his face. "The fog is a lot thicker than I thought."
  15. The Knife's Edge

    Hapan didn't have night cycles. Silas found the endless morning jarring. He had no idea what was the proper time for rest, so he often found himself easily harried and stressed. The Kaar of Diplomacy intimidated him, so the redhead made sure to follow what she said and stay clear away from her path as much as possible. He tried avoiding talking about or talking to the children with her, always finding an excuse to leave. It wasn't like he had conversation material - how does one talk about the holocaust of thousands of years of culture along with the deaths of millions, anyway? Silas always explored the vicinity where Darth Sanguira chose as refuge, even if some of the sights were becoming overly familiar. There was not much to gather from the beautiful humanoids that inhabited the planet, but there was a rumor or two every now and then. Like a Sith Academy in Dathomir. The teen brooded and meditated on that information for days. Darth Sanguira wasn't exactly the best person to be around with at that time, and the promise of a refuge with more than one Sith for company had its appeal. Except it was difficult looking for an opportunity to escape. The people were hostile to outsiders, and if it weren't for some quick thinking and a little show of his abilities in the Force, he would have been collared and bound like a lowly slave. That was unacceptable. As much as Silas hated to admit it, he was stuck with Darth Sanguira for the foreseeable future. He hated it, being dependent on someone else. Silas was a creature of pride, to give his life and safety to someone else wounded his pride. So with the last scraps of his dignity, he simply kept his head up and looked straight ahead. His next order of business, other than survival, was ensuring his parents' continued lives. He had heard rumours of his mother being present in the attack on Bastion. She was a Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy, and Silas couldn't help but worry what happened to her. His father should be safe in their family estate in Telos IV, but there was no telling with his mother. It took the redhead weeks just to find a device with HoloNet access, and weeks just to make a passably secure network just to access the Edel-Kitsuchi private channel. It's supposed to be secure, but Silas didn't want to compromise it any more than he already had. Then his father's elegant visage greeted him, standing in front of a holocamera. Behind him was a medical bed and in it was Silas' mother. The teen breathed a sigh of relief. "Silas." The taller redhead looked like hell, as if he had not slept in weeks. Magus Edel-Kitsuchi was never shaken, but he looked like he was ready to fall asleep at any moment. Behind him, Aina Kitsuchi rested, her vital signs showing that everything was fine, for now. Neither father or son exchanged any words, but that was enough for both of them. Without anything else, Silas cut off the connection and closed his eyes. He'll be fine.
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