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Darth Sanguira

Imperial Kaar
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243 Legen-wait for it-dary

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About Darth Sanguira

  • Rank
    Kaar of Science

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  • Alignment
    Corruption III
  • Social Point Purchases
    Solari Crystal - 15 - 3 = 12SP
    Barab Ingot - 13-6 = 7SP
    Phrik (Chest/Gauntlets) - Rank Reward
    Phrik (Helmet/Boots + CLA) - 28-8 = 20SP
    Shell Spider Silk Leggings (CLA) 20-4 = 16SP
    HUD - 16-3 = 13SP
    Shield Generator - Rank Reward
    Trapped Grip (Shock) - Rank Reward
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  1. Beyond Good and Evil

    Not expecting him to reach out and grasp her throat in a vice, her amber eyes widened a moment before narrowing into a glare that could kill. Nails dug at his hand before her arms dropped to her sides, her wispy mantle of energy being drawn to her hands, her digits. If she could ignore the pain, the lack of breath, if she could keep herself from physically fighting it, perhaps her hold on telekinetically maneuvering her weapon wouldn't lessen and a blow could be struck upon him. She was, after all this time, quite used to him trying to strangle her in a fit of rage, a tantrum thrown like a child. His body seemed to begin breaking down before them as he fought her for control over her weapon, the small amount of blood that sat at her nostril now streaming down to her chin as her teeth grit, a vein bulging along her forehead. It could all end now with a final blow to him, the temptation to release her hold on her weapon in exchange for siphoning his energy through the armor she helped create, armor that was mixed with both her blood and energy, a fine ensemble that could be manipulated by her if the woman truly released all her power. But no, that card would be played another time. Instead, she was refusing to let go of her mental and Force-filled hold on the lightsaber, and by the time her lover had torn the weapon from her mind's grasp, they both caved - exhausted, the dark side poisoning his body suffered weakening him, her emotions both strengthening and weakening her, they each had skills they were masters of, yet many hurdles to jump over. It was a neverending journey for power, and even to maintain their life essence in the process. "Please. We both know that had you been in your prime, you would have never found me a match. Soon, my love. I swear you will bow to me not because of a title, but out of respect for my besting you!" Pausing, the woman approached the aged young male, cupping his cheek. "You best come back in one piece, Sidoor. I don't fancy becoming ugly from dark energies only to pluck your soul from Chaos so that I may kill you myself for dying in the first place."
  2. Beyond Good and Evil

    Heat pressed against her skin, his blade barely blocked by her own a hair's width from her face. Dark hair shadowed her expression as her tresses fell forward past her shoulders, every movement of the woman's body having ceased; Atrox had not just verbally tossed a thermal detonator around - he had let it explode, something she would make sure he regretted. Even with his inexperience with the new weapon used, his skill kept her wary, kept her pressed and using what physical capabilities she had in order to parry and dodge what would have been devastating blows from the shaky-powered saberstaff. Trying to control her emotions meant time spent reading her opponent, thinking more than acting. It was a double edged sword just as her enraged state was. As the man withdrew from her, the other lightsaber slid from her hip, igniting to cast a typical red glow caused by their synthetic crystals. Both blades shifted to easily block oncoming attacks as the woman raked her fingers through her hair, eyes ablaze with hatred, loathing, their typically molten depths glowing like the embers of fire. "You dare compare me to her?!" The air between them grew thick with pressure, the showing of their powers practically causing lightning to spark between their bodies. While his energies were visible in a purple hue, her own draped from her body like a wispy shadowy mist. "I will kill you as you so desire, but your soul will never join with Chaos. I will summon you, keep you as my servant bound to this wretched place!" With a wave of energy, both weapons thrust forward, one aimed for his chest, the other his hip. While it took great concentration to fight in such a way, it felt natural to her. Moving her body, she closed in on the man, lightsabers following the motion of her form as though they were an extention of her limbs, movement fluid yet strong (for her) as she threw in kicks here and there. She was a master of her skills in her own right, and while her cooperation was seen as weakness, it had been anything but. Cursing when her newer weapon was almost too easily cast aside by the man, her attention refocused on her current and favored lightsaber, her practice while secluded on Hapes paying off in that she could both be attacking physically and through the Force, constantly increasing her attacks. Strike after strike, a kick or jab from her elbow, a small strike of lightning. While her skills were improved since their last spar, the strain of manipulating so much energy at once and in a complex way was beginning yo show in the form of a small globule of blood gathering at Sanguira's left nostril.
  3. Beyond Good and Evil

    Letting out a sigh, his statement she need not lie, need not put on airs for him whilst they were alone was almost contradictory to the way he pushed away her advances - rough and halfhearted as they had been - only to get down to business, to discuss political matters regarding the Empire. It was tempting to go and lounge in the throne during their conversation, yet the woman remained rooted. Words meant to prick at her, to cut open wounds that had never healed caused her emotions to flare, though only her sharp gaze and clenched jaw gave an indication to her calm being distorted. Not to mention he likely felt her sadness and rage through their bond. Carefully the brunette chose her words, wrapping her mind around all he just said. Empress. Her goal. Yet this was not the way she had imagined achieving it. And in a way, it was right; how many times had she gone up against her lover or fought at his side to prove herself worthy of advancement in rank, of responsibility and control over others? Licking her lips, she finally spoke, addressing everything the man had spoken. "You are correct. You are not my enemy, not at this time, nor have you been despite my many threats to be your fall. And yes, you are a terrible father, absent in your children's lives, yet you fight to give them a brighter future. For that, I shall reward you: your daughter from that other woman is doing well. I have had her watched, even went to end her life out of jealousy, yet when I saw her I stayed my hand. If you desire, I will give you the reports on her upbringing. She looks like you once did, only gentler, prettier thank Chaos. Jokes aside, a few of the servants I came to know from your house were given orders that should our conquest collide with the Republic's forces upon Alderaan, she is to be taken off world and kept safe. I could care less if the rest of her family dies, but as much as I despise her very existence, I will keep her safe." Pausing, throat tightening and voice attempting to crack, to falter and give way to anguish, the Hapan dug her sharpened nails into her palms until tiny droplets of blood formed along crescent openings in the soft tissue. He just had to bring that child up, her first birth. "I too have failed as a parent. Unable to keep an infant alive when it is inside you is the greatest shame, one I will carry with me for the rest of my life, however long or short it may be. Yes. I was at my worst, filled with despair, uselessness, anger. I was lost then, yet through that pain we rose - together, just you and me against the blasted galaxy." Removing her hilt from the belt hanging loosely at her hips, the woman held it before her, brushed her fingers along its simply built base. Another hilt remained on her left hip, a second weapon she had made in the absence of her lover, though her skill at using two weapons simultaneously was seriously lacking. "You wish me to be the face and voice, the image of the Empire reborn from the ashes while you lead our people to true salvation. Not quite a puppet, yet not equals. It seems to me, my love, we have begun to come to the same conclusion: we must work together and share our power to rule over what remains of the Sith. We balance one another in a sense. You inspire and lead by example while I persuade and put on airs to charm and draw others in for the kill." A pause as the orange blade hissed to life, its glow kissing her pale skin like the light from a sunrise. With her free hand, she knotted her locks to keep them from getting in the way, the woman pondering if it was time to chop her dark tresses short once more. "Sadly, my longing to kill you subsided when the massacre took place. But I will do my best to add to your scars. You do know how I like to play rough," she purred, grinning wolfishly as the excitement of sparring, of action after so long without was finally available. The saberstaff was an odd choice for him, in her humble opinion, and had her debating on how to approach while she swung the blade, loosening up her shoulder and arm, recalling the way it felt to use the weapon she came to value almost as much as her own children. Atrox knew her abilities, that she loved to mix Force attacks with lightsaber attacks, yet physically her stamina was no match for him - especially given his hulking muscular frame. If she used her martial arts attacks, the trick would be getting in close enough, finding the right range in which the saberstaff became useless. Cursing at the fact she would have to be willing to spend half her energy and efforts on getting a feel for his capabilities, the Darth winked at her husband before lunging towards him, feet pushing off the ground to aid in her speed, the lighweight gown allowing freedom of movement while subtly hiding her legs so that the muscles tensing wouldn't give away her direction. Any tells in reading an oponent that could be masked were beneficial to the user, and with an opponent like her husband, the brunette knew she needed all the help she could get. This match would end with pain, exhaustion, and a feeling of rejuvenation.
  4. Beyond Good and Evil

    To say events unfolded as predicted upon her summons would be an utter lie; immediately after she entered the room her husband had taken up, her presence hard to miss when not suppressing her signature in the Force, the door was shut and a name used that had been part of her past self. Hissing at the sudden darkness, her genetic weakness causing her sense of sight to be fully eliminated thanks to the lack of light, the woman debated on using her energy to see into the shadows, but opted to wait, wanting to save her strength should this be another one of their sparring sessions, their attempts to kill one another that led to exhaustion from their efforts and often a nice romantic moment afterwards. Fists clenching and relaxing at her sides as she thought upon the question asked, her arms soon crossed over her chest, fine brows knitting in confusion, anger, suspicion. "Uselessness? Don't make me laugh, Kure. I never felt useless, just wronged, and it filled me with anger that you happily exploited. Of course the results were positive for the both of us, so I can accept your manipulations. For now." Yes. Many tried to use her, saw her not as a person but a thing. Her past caused the woman to crave affection rarely given to her as a child, caused her to need approval. The Consortium gave birth to her darker nature, the need and desire to survive against all odds, to climb the ladder of power no matter how painstakingly long it took. Vain, prideful, and hellbent on destroying any in the way of her goals should they refuse her charm and manipulations, the brunette's life had molded her into what she was today - with Atrox's assistance, naturally. Stepping forward where the Sith's voice had come from, her heels clicking on the stone floor, she shoved her once auburn tresses from her lightly scarred (yet still beautiful) face. Why had he addressed her in such a way? Why had he asked a strange question as that? Cautiously, she spoke up, her expressions wavering from time to time as she struggled to keep her emotions from beeaking the facade of calm she wore. "The time I felt useless-no, the times rather, were when I was forced into hiding in order to birth and raise the children alone while you had fun seeking out power. You, Kure Sideralis, abandoned me to have fun, made me feel that you felt I wasn't capable enough to stay at your side. Even bound by blood, you left me! You may never have felt useless, and hopefully you never will, but the day you do, it will be my doing - just so you know what it feels like, what you put me through." Turning away from him, feeling her energies seeping out to coat her curvy form in a means of self defense, she bit down on her lip to keep it from quivering, her emotions flaring out of control as she tried to damper them. Throat tight, at last Sanguira focused the Force to become her eyes, her vision, the glare she cast at the man one of both pure loathing and love. She despised him yet couldn't fathom living a life without him. He was her curse and blessing, her weakness and stength. Telling him off in her native tongue, the femme approached his looming figure, arms snaking around his neck as her lips pressed roughly against his. Biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the woman pulled away, glare having softened a few fractions.
  5. Birthright

    Smile not reaching the frigid gaze in her molten eyes, the woman guided the noble along once the hybrid had finished having a private word. Did he know the redhead as well, or was it a message from her lover? Neither mattered much to her, so she ignored the curiosity, the tiny desire to know. As they walked towards the temple that Darth Verrin had built for their people, she spoke in a hushed tone, words for the lad's ears only, the few beings along their path stepping aside to bow respectfully as was expected by her. "You wish to avoid attention, our attention. Do not deny it, boy. Your expressions give your feelings away more than my skills at reading others do. I cannot say I blame you, for attention from a darth of our caliber often results in death. But enough of your weak desires. You have no backbone, not yet. I am in need of services from acolytes, so I will start by moulding you into something of use." What went unspoken was how even if he had no knowledge of her children, he would be in her crosshairs at all times. The moment the boy was born, he was cursed to face those he wanted to be invisible to; nobles and masters of power - jedi and sith alike - were her favorite types of prey to break. Her husband knew this very well. "Silas, what skills do you possess, for physical strength certainly isn't your forte by any means. Served that wretch right, though. And why in Chaos's name do you not have a proper lightsaber yet? Tch." Clearly unbothered by the state his attire was in, the brunette pulling up his file from a datapad that had been fastened to her hip, something she kept with her when going on "diplomatic" missions. Not all data had been lost in the destruction of their Sith planets, the various highly encrypted backups given to council members proving useful during the continuance of their survival. "Hm, nothing very noteworth on your file, but no matter. That flicker of anger you felt whilst executing the traitor will grow tenfold when I'm done with you. Now to find a room in this place to test the needed abilities..."
  6. Enantiomorphs

    A mixture of feelings swept through her upon hearing her husband was well enough, was fighting against joining Chaos any time soon; it was strange how she was both relieved yet slightly disappointed, any extra edge of control and power she could have had on the man now no longer a factor - at least her last resort remained in the form of the blood and Force infused armor she created for the man. Keeping her expression neutral, face smooth save for the momentary curl of her lip, the brunette gave a nod to indicate she had heard him as her gaze and attention drifted. The question regarding her well being made her start, then laugh aloud, ignoring a few startled expressions from those in the training pits. He was good, very good at playing his role of obedience, yet the femme knew better than to let her guard down around the Echani. "Oh, my dear, I am quite well if not missing the action Atrox and battle provided. My skills will begin to tarnish if I remain grounded planetside too long. Unless, of course, I find someone willing to have a friendly spar from time to time..." Looking at the Sith Master like a predator examines its prey before executing a death blow, the Hapan reached out and brushed her fingers along the other's cheek and jaw, not caring if her gauntlet scratched his skin. Only her children and husband were receivers of her gentle affections. "You are a good lad, obedient, loyal to our purpose. But do not think your capabilities and strength go unnoticed no matter what mask you wear. Your life belongs to us, and the moment you decide to lift a finger against us, I will see to it your existence is erased completely. Lucky for you, Corvus, I like you. You were entertaining from when we first met on that wretched Korriban. Continue to perform satisfyingly and you shall be rewarded," she purred out before walking away to wander amongst the Acolytes, to examine them up close.
  7. Enantiomorphs

    When had she become so hard to satisfy? Once upon a time ago, the woman saw potential in those beneathe her status, yet looking out upon the acolytes now only brought the grim realization that all beings before her were pawns in a game of dejarik. All were expendable, her care in their well-being a well executed facade that few individuals knew of. Still, the brunette desired to rule, for her empire to prosper, and for that she needed subjects- and an army. Eyeing her pet, the man she and her lover created together, Sanguira smirked; she enjoyed playing with him, playing with any of her favored subjects. Making a mental note to pull a few of the acolytes aside that had a slight potential to be of use in her working within the shadows, the Darth made her way to the former Jedi, her presence anything but hidden despite her power being held back. Heels clicked on stone, fingers reaching out to grasp dark locks that had once been white. Giving a playful tug, she began to circle him, looking his outfit over with raised brows. "Hn, I suppose you do clean up nicely. Pretending to be harmless and approachable, eh? If only they knew what you were, what you could do..." Giggling at the thought of his monstrous side being released, the woman let the moment turn serious, her voice audible only to his ears, her proximity close enough while facing him that her boots nearly touched his. "Corvus, tell me. How is my husband's condition? You are always with him, so surely you know if his strength is increasing or waning from the weight of the power he holds..." Atrox. He was her greatest ally, her greatest enemy, and her greatest weakness. Corvus knew of their relationship that was kept as hidden from view as possible. He knew of their children, and even knew long ago their intentions to take the throne prior to the Republic practically clearing the seat for them. His knowledge was why they kept him close, why they worked their "magic" on him. Clearing her throat, facing the training puts once more, the Darth sighed. "These Acolytes lack the extent of thirst and drive we had when in their position. They aren't out of shape, haven't fully wasted away to nothing. But they understand nothing of true bloodshed, battle, survival. They have been scraping by here. Soon, Corvus, we will face your former allies and wipe the galaxy with their corpses. I believe I questioned your readiness to destroy them once before, but what of now? Have you fully fallen, my pet, or is there still a glimmer of light I need to black out?"
  8. Plot Ideas?

    • Arrived on Hapes • Updated self on current political situation • Famliarized herself with cerain fmilies of power and wealth • Found her mother still clinging to high status • Used her name, past position, and current skills to take out (slowly and silently) those that would oppose her power plays • Managed to slip pawns (normal Hapans that vowed loyalty) into the planet's defense and political structures • Now recieves regular reports, and plans to send a few acolytes (NPC for now) to maintain the Remnant's hold • Is working on subtly spreading her influence to the other locations that make up the Hapes Cluster, using their negativity towards the Jedi to her advantage It was a slow process, but one she had begun even before taking refuge there. Being physically there sped certain processes up thankfully, but as she had no agents to utilise, it took longer than norm to "conquer" Hapes. And she shockingly didn't act upon her desires for revenge - too small of a matter to care about for now. And that, ladies and gents, is what went down post Empire Massacre.
  9. Plot Ideas?

    Just so everyone is aware, i will do a breakdown of the control over Hapes, and how Sanguira's agents are gradually spreading through the cluster to bring it all under her control. I'm at work right now tho, so when I'm home and settled I will get to it. Let me know if I need to do a roleplay post/thread to explain it all.
  10. Birthright

    Cackling at the boldness of the alien, the brunette let a cruel grin form across her lips, eyes blazing as the power she wore like a cloak began to stir. Did the woman truly think a blaster could hurt, could kill them even after everything they've survived? If only she had opted to be loyal, if only she obeyed them. Clearly her bravery and lack of fear while facing death coyld have been a useful tool against the Republic, but disobedience could not be tolerated. When her lover spoke, offering mercy, she shot a quick glance his way - while he would and could spare the woman, Sanguira would not. Fully prepared to end the fool's life as the man's energy flowed and clutched the Mirialan, began its slow crushing of her body, the movement in the crowd and a particular presence stilled her form. Red hair, fear, a meek expression. It was the boy that had snuck aboard her ship during the massacre of the Empire, the one that knew of their secret. Watching, knowing, the Darth giggled in enjoyment as strike after strike did damage, a gruesome sight being displayed before them. After the last blow, the femme walked up beside the other that looked as though he were fighting vomiting, her clawed hand brushing up his arm until it rested at his neck, digits pressing lightly along the delicate flesh. "Very good," she purred out, lips nearly brushing his ear. "The children have asked about you. It will be good to tell them you survived... Now come with me, Silas. Let's make ourselves comfortable inside." The couple had their pet, their monstrosity created with the combination of their powers and knowledge on manipulating the Force, but now she would have a second minion to toy with. Ah, the day was starting off so wonderfully! It had been some time since she felt such true joy.
  11. Birthright

    While Dathomir could easily disguise and distort one's Force signature, even cloud their emotions from being thoroughly sensed, a Sith of her experience and empathetic connection had no issue sorting out the various beings: those that would lay down their life for the Sith'ari, those that would follow despite doubts, and those that had no loyalty or trust in what they heard and saw. Most were of no concern, her gaze resting on a few particular individuals as though silently informing them she could read them like a flimsi. Even she had followed with a sense of loyalty despite the back and forth threats to kill the other between her lover and herself - and in the many battles fought together, they risked their very lives to keep eachother safe. While the man turned to leave, their creation being the obedient pet he was and following suit, Sanguira remained, her part only just beginning. Spotting the old Darth, she gave a wink, the cold smile that had been tugging at the corners of her mouth completely vanishing when a nobody dared to speak to Atrox. At least the soldier had asked permission, but the fact she dared do that at all made the woman's anger flare. As quickly as the fiery emotions had risen, they were dampened by her control over her reactions, control that took ages to learn and was still imperfect. Voice ringing clear, the elegant brunette stepped forward to block both path and view (as much as her frame compared to her husband's allowed) to the man. "Any and all concerns should be brought to your direct superiors, or to me. I not only speak on behalf of Darth Atrox, the true Sith'ari that will lead each of you down a path to victory and salvation, but am looking for those amongst you with a particular talent for working swiftly in the shadows. Come join me inside should you wish to put your talents to work." Prepping to send a holomessage to those that had roles to perform in this play directed by her beloved Sith, the femme rose a finely groomed brow at the private in a silent question as to what she needed, taking the moment of the Mirialan's hesitation to record and send her message. @Vansic Modun "My dear Vansic, I do hope your mind and skills have not gone rusty. We are in need of your services once more, so join us at the coordinates encrypted in this message. Darth Atrox has a gift for you." Skills Used: Force Sense / Force Empathy I know she technically didnt use them except as a subconscious or natural way, but stating it just for records sake.
  12. Birthright

    Their time was nearing; with the destruction of their Imperial home, a common goal interlaced with the same emotions had been given birth between the woman and her lover. They would rebuild the Sith in their image of greatness, rise from the shadows as the dominant beings they were, and take not just what was once theirs but what was everyone's - soon the galaxy would be at their beck and call. For many standard planet rotations the couple fought with one another over power, over ruling the Empire. Yet an understanding rose between them. They needed one another, had to work as a unit to balance the other's weaknesses. Emperor (or Empress) was nothing but a fancy title thrown around, a meaningless word. While Darth Atrox had the physical and raw strength, the drive and knowledge of being a true Sith'ari, Darth Sanguira had the cunning eloquence, the gifted tongue that enabled her to bring in those around her, enabled her to inspire loyalty. Born with the ability to charm all who stood before her, the brunette even used this gift on her husband. Perhaps his awareness of that fact stemmed his admiration and hatred towards her. She had done as she was told, their arrival at the Academy going smoothly - the one positive that came from such destruction at the hands of the Republic was a showing of respect between the remaining council members. The lack of infighting was proving beneficial, not that anyone had the energy or desire to bicker over petty things like territory jurisdiction. Studying the crowd below them, stormy molten eyes picking out a few faces she recognized from previous encounters, the woman smirked, approving the way they were responding to the man. Clad in a seemingly simple armored gown, the coal attire was made for mobility and protection of vital organs. Her dark energies were her true armor, and even weapon. A clawed gauntlet rested gently on the male's back. It was a subtle gesture of affection, of support. Dark tresses flowing freely, Sanguira withdrew her touch, folding her arms over her chest, alreading planning her message to the other remaining spires - a meeting would be needed to discuss their next move in further detail, and to inform the group of their latest accomplishments such as the Darth's success in gaining control over her native planet (the full cluster was still a work-in-progress, but Hapes was now unofficially an ally).
  13. The Knife's Edge

    Hapes Spaceport Home. That was where she had returned to, having been here once before as the Kaar of Diplomacy, unrecognized by her own kin, her own people. Oh how she had longed to take over, to replace the Queen Mother with herself or one of her agents. But alas, her plans fell through when the very biased and judgemental people that made up the governing body opted to a truce of sorts, mostly a trade agreement with the Empire. Had they objected, she could have had her way, but the Hapans weren't fond of the Jedi and their alliances whatsoever. Rising, the woman glanced towards the storage space where bins held various items - mostly attire to suit any climate and occasion (it was important she be properly dressed for her visitations to expand the Empire's territory). Lip curling in distaste, she mentally swore in various tongues, cursing her attention for having not noticed such a simple thing as a stranger's Force Signature aboard her ship. With a wave of her hand, the lid to the stowaway's crate slid off to reveal the sleeping teen. Had she not just seen the genocide of the Imperial people, especially those considered Sith, Darth Sanguira would have killed the redhead for his idiocy. Circumstances were very different from the norm, though, and so the brunette kicked the side of the bin and tossed a grey gausy silk cloak onto his figure. "Put on the cloaks. We are to draw as little attention as possible to ourselves. You, brat, you will do as I say and remain at my side with the others. Understood?" Exhaustion and stress creeped into her voice, part of her still ready and willing to fight while the other half just wanted to soak in a tub of hot water. Donning her own cloak, the hood was drawn up to shadow her battered face and molten eyes, the boy back in her arms. Glancing to the stranger, a loud sigh left her lips when she saw her daughter smile and take the other's hand as though he were an older sibling or parent, as though he were the equivalent of one of Clan Black's offspring that she hung around before Atrox sent her to the Academy. Their daughter was too kind to strangers for her own good. Her lover would have had an aneurysm if he had seen this.
  14. The Knife's Edge

    Korriban Already battered from surviving the blasted massacre on the Empire's capitol city, the place most of those in power were stationed, the brunette looked as though she had been sent to Mustafar and had to walk through its core to get there. With the Republic attacking so strongly, there was one thing on her mind, the same thing on her lover's mind: get their children to safety. Perhaps not out of a parental duty or love (well, except a portion of their more human selves), but for the sake of keeping their legacy alive. Darth Atrox and Darth Sanguira knew they wouldn't live until age took their souls to Chaos. They were sith, warriors meant to lead others to victory or die trying. Battle, the threat of death lurking around every corner, that was the path they both willingly chose, and why their bloodline and power it held being preserved was so important. The Academy was crumbling, history of their kind being destroyed by powerful attacks that came from both sides. Bodies littered the halls, all ages from young to old, but her senses indicated her children were still alive - she felt them, felt their energy with ease despite the many Force users surrounding the place, despite the powers that made Korriban so sacred. They were a beacon amongst the many energies, her connection to them strong, stronger perhaps than even their father's since she had carried them full term, had birthed them. Jedi that turned their attention towards her were wiped out if they tried to attack, to block her path. The gall of that Grand Master, of the Jedi and Republic had pushed her rage past its containment point, similarly to how the specter threatening her baby's life had done. Only this time she was in proper physical shape, had energy and her mental barriers were as strong as ever. A few of the stronger Jedi that confronted her took precious time away from her task, but this only fueled her, the pain they caused by smashing her into walls being returned tenfold as she tore their limbs from their bodies with the Force, its invisible tendrils of dark energy acting as extensions of her own limbs. Plunging her lightsaber into the back of a soldier pressing her children, the woman turned with her weapon and beheaded two others that ran into the room. They had ten minutes to get back to the ship before the pilot left them there to die. Picking up Korvus since Julith could keep up better than the younger of the two, the Kaar hurried them along, keeping their path clear. By luck or fate, she avoided direct confrontation with Jedi Council Members, and had she not felt the passing of Darth Lyran, the femme likely would have remained to fight alongside him while knowing her children were safe. Running and allowing the destruction of their people as well as culture was not in her blood, never had been. But with only herself the last Kaar alive on Korriban, she knew it would be futile to remain and face multiple opponents that were the strongest the Republic had to offer. Instead, she boarded with them, leaving those on Korriban to their fate. Some would escape, but most were doomed. Praising her children for their strength, the woman gave pause when the pilot notified her of her lover's message. Fists clenching, she gave a nod and ordered the pilot to take them to Hapes, a place they could hide in until she could get them all back to Atrox's compound. Still, him sending such a message made her feel uneasy, and a longing to be at his side, to have his back like in previous wars grew stronger by the second. Eyes closing, the woman concentrated on their connection, their distance straining it, limiting the amount of communication they would have. Feeling the draw of her blood, of his blood, of their pain and suffering, of their fears and dreams, Sanguira reached out an invisible hand towards him, towards the Alderaanian warrior that had over time stolen her heart, had become more than a tool and weapon to use for advancement in society. "Kure, I have them. We will go to Hapes. Whatever you are planning, come back to me in one piece or I will never let your soul find peace in Chaos. Understand? You...you should have seen them, our children are strong-" With the distance cutting her off, the brunette fought back the lump forming in her throat, disgusted by her own emotion and weakness. Instead, she focused on keeping the young ones calm as they entered hyperspace with coordinates set for Hapes.
  15. Upon Bleeding Spires

    Was she so easy to read, or did he understand her intentions and desires through their bond sealed by blood? The male knew her thoroughly, took their time spent together over the standard years to understand her, to observe her and learn the way her mind worked; she was his strength and weakness in various situations, so his studying of her was no surprise. It was irksome, being unable to fully manipulate one's greatest rival. Still, she would find a way to equal and then surpass his prowess so that he could no longer act so dominant over her in public view. Watching with intrigue as the ritual began, the building up and releasing of power set her teeth on edge, her nails biting into her palms as she shivered from the suffocating energy. Her own senses within the Force being overstimulated, the crying of other spirits, it made her body and mind ache and fear strangle her with a vice-like grip - it was hard to breathe, hard to see clearly, and even nect to impossible to think straight. And then the pressure was released, a faint figure of the spectre hovering before her lover. Thinking the ritual, the task over, the brunette took a shaky step forward, then another, her stormy gaze set upon the man's face. She reached out to him, was ready to cross over the markings upon the floor and hold him, support the man she both loved, feared, and admired. But his voice halted her advance, the lesson on such ancient and strong magic of the Sith continuing. Brows rose at the mention of what would be needed to use the tome, and many questions swirled in her mind. Forcing her thoughts aside, she returned her attention to the man, glancing at the locket he withdrew. It would be the new host, that much was obvious. Was it easier to bind spirits, trap them in objects instead of living vessels? Dealing with such dark means of power was beyond her pay even as a Kaar, yet her husband pursued it head first, and it had benefited them, had enabled the life of their baby girl be spared. Pride and admiration showed on the subtle smile directed towards her exhausted lover, but her expression and happiness quickly disappeared. Spiteful words left the specter's lips, her own turning into a molten storm as she firmly walked up to stand behind the man, her firm grip resting on both of his shoulders as she let the heat from her body press against his back. The ghost not only insulted her lover, and herself, but threatened their child. No one, nothing would ever survive after that, and even if he was physically dead, she would erase his energy from existence! "You dare say his soul is twisted? You have no eyes to see with, specter, for my Kure has a beautiful soul. It is darkened with power that only he is capable of wielding, yet it is bright and wonderful in that he would not be the man he is without it, would not be a man worthy of my heart. You are simply jealous of what we have, and what we are when you are a pitiful shadow of a former and forgotten uncared for existence! Never insult my husband in front of me!" Her words grew louder as her anger rose, yet it was the threat to her daughter that unleashed true fury, the desire to protect, to preserve her own at the forefront of her mind. Energy slowly manifested around her, acted as an incisible breeze that whipped at her dark wavy locks. "Now, words against my husband are things I can brush aside, but you involved my child. No one talks of my children, no one touches my children, and most of all no one threatens them!" For the most part her voice had been calm, the only indication of her rage being in the growing darkness around her form and how (likely painfully) tight her grip upon her lover was. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, images of her miscarried child came to mind, Exitium's words morphing the image into her three precious children lifeless in her arms, the spirit hovering above them laughing in a maniacal way. Opening ger eyes, irises now golden, eyes bloodshot, the shadows on her face appearing darker, more pronounced, the Hapan sneered at the ghost as her rage-fueled energy rushed forward to smash against the specter like waves upon rocks. "You should know your place. A tool to be used by those still alive, you filthy spirit." Stepping from behind the seated man, Sanguira now stood before him, letting her energies lash at the locket, testing the weakened spirit's defenses. Knowing it would take everything she had simply based on their earlier encounter and how the ghost was still finding the ability to resist her waves of anger-filled energy, the brunette took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she lifted the barriers of control placed in her mind. Nothing would be left to hold her back, something she learned to do when touching the Force Nexus. All around her there was darkness, death (thanks to Atrox). Power radiated from the specter, the tomes, her lover, all in various weakened forms. She felt it all, could practically taste it, her skin prickling as she called out to it, tried to take what wasn't hers - except from her lover whom appeared on the verge of collapse. She would only blerd him dry if there was no other choice left. And then the battle began. Hot streaks of lightning edged with power shot out from her digits, pale skin reddening as it burned her hands. Strikes and waves of energy crashed down upon the locket, Exitium laughing at her "pointless attempts". He was weakened considerably, but such a being would take more than that to be defeated. No. Not him, but the thing he was bound to. Golden gaze settling on the locket, the femne began aiming her attacks at it, urging more and more power into each onslaught. Drops of sweat began to form along her skin, her breathing slightly labored. The atmosphere felt heavy, as though many souls had gathered to watch, crying out now and then in time with the attacks. A flash of her lifeless baby entered her mind, a pain-filled cry leaving her lips as she struck the locket again and again. Why wouldn't it break?! If only it were a neck she could snap, a body to crush. Tendrils of miasma tightened around the object, attempting to crack it into pieces in a vice grip, but it still wasn't enough. Falling to her knees in frustration and anguish, the brunette stared at her shaking hands. Yet again she was letting her husband, her family down. He had been so confident she could do this... Gritting her teeth, refusing to give in, she began again. At last it seemed her efgorts were paying off, the slightest of dents in the metal now visible. At this rate, though, she would have nothing left and little more to show for it, a fact that burned her. She was past the point of exhaustion, and after a few long moments of catching her breath, the femme knew what she had to do. Sanguira threw both her hands outward, screaming. It was more painful than labor, thrusting every last bit of energy laced with her own life force out at once, all aimed at the locket. The dark energy had gathered as she called it out, had condensed slightly, her skin torn, palms bleeding from the raw power that had gathered. With the object, the target weakened, the mass of Force bearing down on it collided and overwhelmed the energy that was Exitium; like a system overload, a chain reaction took place as the object was destroyed both from inside and out. Letting herself fall back, she grunted at the hardness of the ground, her head resting in his lap. Eyes half lidded, nose gushing blood, she was a tired mess, yet she flashed a grin at the man. "Sorry it took longer than desired, my love. But you were right... I did it. I was strong enough. I-I won't ever let our family come to harm. Gotta... Be strong to... Stay at your side..." her words near the end were more of a mumble before she lost consciousness, simply needing sleep (and bandages, maybe a comfy bed and wine too). OOC: will likely rework this post to make it flow better, make it read better.