Fallenreaper

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Lyn

Lyn bit her lip at realizing she had nearly crashed into someone. Her rounded, childish eyes showed a bit of guilt as she was pulled up again on her feet, her body slowly balancing herself. In nervous gesture, her foot raised a bit and scratched the ground. The toe etching an erratic pattern with no purpose save to spend her discomfort while she nodded her answer to other student. Lifting her head, her eyes widened in surprise for a split moment on seeing the man’s appearance up close for the first time. Her eyes went way, way up, nearly craning her neck to meet her rescuer’s face.

She first noticed his skin was white as can be before her sight found his light blue eyes looking down at her. His head had literally no hair at all and his height towered over her smaller form, causing her neck to strain trying to meet his eyes. She tilted her head a bit to the side just to see if the angle altered the features in anyway. Or at least made them less intimidating, but it didn’t.

Lyn scrunched up her eyes slightly. It obvious she was studying the man and on absorbing his vampiric appearance, impulsively flicked out her half human and half snake tongue. There wasn’t the death like scent lingering on her smell like she expected there would’ve been. However, it was clear he was human and that put her at ease some. Her attention noted the gauntlet fused to his hand a little late and stepped forward to it, her hands reached out to touch it gently. Only at the mention of a gift did she stop tracing the hand’s surface and looked at him fully.

The child smiled then pointed at herself, making sure he was serious about her gift. When he started to retrieve it, her curiosity would get the better of her and caused the child to lean uncomfortably into Leith’s personal space to get a chance glimpse of his present. Naturally she liked most her gifts she got to date through many would call her spoiled.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

@Gowi Hey Gowi! Though, to be honest, I just literally leaped in with Tearstone. XD It's a bit of a sandbox so hard to actually order a major event list with several different stories happening in like three different time periods. >,<

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

@Fallenreaper can't hide from me.

@Sep

If I put on invisible I could. :p

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

Alright, thank you so much for the quick reply.

@dave-cuenca

No problem, nice to see you're interested.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Does this roleplay still accept character applications?

@dave-cuenca

Yes it does. Just make one and put it in the OoC for the Gm to look at.

[Always Lonely] Naruto: Continuum [Always Open]

Masshiro, Kenomo (畜生 真白 )

~}|Burning Memories|{~

Date- 5/1/1925, Location- Kumogakure, Time- Morning

Sweat rolled off Masshiro’s pale skin. His body was drenched to the bone and movements staining the futon’s surface, creating darken spots, as his eyes closed tightly to push away the trespassing dreams. The images were etching into his frightened mind with each passing moment. Every few seconds he would immediately toss and turn before fingers clawed into the covers. The short nails dug harshly in, the fabric slowly tearing with a loud rip, sending wool and cotton everywhere when he jerked his figure back to the opposite edge. His body trembled terribly. Under his breath, small and pitiful whimpers were escaping through pressed lips during his restless sleep. The teenager growled in both fear and resistance, his lips curled back to reveal two sharp canines underneath.

The noise sounded more like a low, wild and almost feral sound. One a scared animal would give to warn away an invisible predator. His mind lost in the realm of nightmares.

|~~~~~~~~|

Chaos in the form of smoke and fire hunted Masshiro, his hand held his neck where the flames burnt into it. The fumes threatened to smother his lungs as air no longer reached him. That other hand reached out to guide him through the growing haze as the weight of exhausting was piling up on his fragile, four year old body. Feet stumbling across the wood floor while voices were consumed by the crackling deafening his ears, casting his once clean face into contrasting shadows.

"Mommy!!!" He screamed out loud. His shrieks were all in vain, tears streaming down his white face and quickly evaporated. He was grimy, his cheeks had become painful enough that it threatened to blister from the dry heat in the air.

It was the only word that came into his childish mind, she was the only one he needed or wanted. An individual who could make sense of why their home, his stuff, and everything was burning around him into ashes. He wailed again and again, still crying for mercy. His body stepped around hot boards crashing down from above, landing in his way while he navigated his best around them. All the time, flames were blocking his path and sight in their need to consume everything within their path. Masshiro’s heart raced in his chest and the sleepy, heavy sensation grew in his head. The want to lay down and sleep was becoming too hard to resist, his eyes panning the scene of fire spreading its death.

His voice grew quieter, his throat too raw to yell now. Finally his eyes spied his once favorite hiding spot: the living room table. In a want to just lay down, he dropped to all fours and crawled underneath. The air didn’t hurt his chest as badly when he flattened himself down and shortly felt his eyelids start to sag. Masshiro was still whimpering and crying quietly when he heard someone screaming his name, his vision blacking out slowly. His last image before the darkness swallowed was Hanawa-chan drawing close to his hiding place.

|~~~~~~~~|

At the end of the nightmare, Masshiro’s body jerked with fisted hand then smacked it right into the wall. The wood made a loud thump and his knuckle ached, not splitting the skin thanks to the power he lacked in the punch. His eyes went wide at his violent reaction as he gingerly pulled it away, cradling the stinging and possibly broken knuckles in his other hand. He spent a moment or two examining it for permanent damage. Several other mild indentations were easily seen beside his newly made one, all shouting back at Masshiro how bad these nightmares had started to become. Half the time, the teenage grudgingly thought, he couldn’t recall them at all. His head glanced to the side before absorbing the mess that was now his mattress. Stuffing was tossed about, some even still clinging to him, as he made efforts to get out of bed. Hand ruffled through his short hair, brushing away the wool caught in it.

Ignoring his own stupidity and sour mood, the pale haired boy gently twisted about and pressed his feet flat upon the floor. He braced against the added weight gradually building when he stood upright and stretched his legs, the dull tiredness fading with the prickling sensation. His eye corner brushed over the other beds lined up on the opposite wall. All six were completely empty which meant he was the last to get up and the other boys were outside playing. Each, like his own, had their own compact dresser sitting beside it. It held almost all their belongings and prevented their cherished possessions from becoming lost in the shared items.

The room was an utter mess. A fact expected from a house full of boys and girls, the Negishi household often taking in orphaned children and creating a family like environment. Each one was cared for, taught and well loved causing Masshiro to momentarily reflect on his luck. He inhaled when his knuckles flared with new pain. It was the reminder of his earlier outburst that caused him to finally padded over to his dresser, mindful of the childish mine field between it and himself. Small, wooden toys were scattered from one end of the room to the other, making it a slight challenge to navigate his way over the floor. At least without breaking the skin of his soles by treading over wooden kunai, shuriken or even crumbled up handmade ‘explosion’ tags. Being a nin was an important dream to them as it was to him, through unlike them, he managed to pave his path toward it.

Upon reaching an empty patch, Masshiro causally walked the rest of his way to his dresser. He popped open the top drawer, his body clothed in nothing but simple boxers, then one handedly shoved aside the contents. While he reached into it and started to pull out the basic first aid kit, his ears caught the loud racket of his siblings’ laughter. Their happiness was filling house and soon, proved it was infectious as he caught himself making a small smile at the sounds leaking into his room. With the first-aid in his hand, Masshiro smacked the drawer shut with his elbow then turned about to return to his bed again. Along the way to sit down, he spied his knuckles to note they had began to turn purplish around the bone. That concerned him inside through his face barely showed it with a neutral expression fixed in place. It was a permanent mask he usually worn over his face for protection and defense, keeping himself at a distance from everyone around him.

A cold, heartless wall he noted in some bitterness. One that made him feel alone sometimes because he couldn’t risk taking it down. His body flopped down on the mattress, the wool and cotton bits flaking off the edge and onto the floor. It was making a bigger mess for him to clean up now. Masshiro sighed softly. “Damn it…” Masshiro uttered under his breath at the sight, his tongue rolled under his lower lip in frustration.

Ignoring it for now, he laid the kit on the bed. It was a small, jewelry box sized container with a simple twist latch. His thumb and forefinger gripped the mechanism gently then unlatched it, propping the lid open to get to the supplies inside. The scent of wild herbs having been dried and stuffed in now overwhelmed his nose causing him to almost react. He managed to just crinkle his nose instead of clasping his hands over his face, his fingers tightening into a fist to resist the impulse. A moment passed before he breathed then reached for the herbs to take the swelling down. Hanawa-chan was going to kill him when she learned he might’ve busted a knuckle or two. He secretly prayed he could hide it from him while they healed.

Depression settled in his heart like a rock, threatening to sink him, but he held it at bay. He bite his tongue when he started to hiss, a natural reaction to the pain, still keeping up his application of the herbs then followed up with the balm to seal any possible splits he missed in his skin. Finally he bandaged them up tightly in a thick wrap which protected it from infection in the air.

Now done with the wound, he leaned back to survey the damage done to his bed. Wool and cotton were scattered everywhere on the surface, peering out of the tears of the cover, their bits mingling with the sheets and worse. He just stared because he knew he possibility of getting it all was very slim and mending it was pretty much impossible. Everything was currently in strips which wouldn’t hold if he tried to sew them back together.

He raised his uninjured left hand to scratch his head as he acknowledged the trouble this would bring. Getting a new bed was a must and that meant money he didn’t have currently. He knew asking for some from his parents would mean questions then admitting he had another nightmare, his conscious knew deep down he couldn’t stand having them stare at him in pity. He exhaled a breath then snapped the kit close. Setting it on the ground, he nudged it under the bed’s low space beneath and rose upright. He quickly snatched all the ratted wool, cotton and sheet he could into his hands and started to stuff it back into the futon. Masshiro smoothed over the surface best he could through the top layer was just as torn as the mat causing him to creep over to the next bed and snag another, not ripped sheet from it. He flipped it over and let it settle before he tucked it in. With careful and devil ate care to detail, he tried his best to make it look like a proper bed. He made a mental note to ask Hanawa-chan if he could stay a few nights with her while this blew over.

Masshiro had managed to kick the last of the missed stuffing out of sight just when he heard the room door slid open. Masshiro’s head snapped to stare at the wall immediately, briefly seeing his mother edging in with her warm brown eyes panning the room. They swayed from one end to the other, stopping only to rest on him when she saw him awake. It was then Masshiro became abruptly aware he was still in his boxer. On that note he tried not to let the red blush fill his face and show through his pale skin, struggling not to shift his eyes to look his mother in the eyes. Instead he turned slightly and focused on a spot on her neck.

He was very much aware of her noting his hand at his side however, his bandaged hand carefully shifted to hide it behind his back and body positioned to block the sight of the new dent. More of a habit than actually expecting to succeed, Masshiro stood quietly in place to heard his mother speak.

Negishi-san was a woman well in her late thirties, with a plump and motherly figure. To most the village, she gave off a loving aura to all her children and knew many individuals within Kumogakure. Her dark hair was tied in a messy bun, pierced by the metal needle in its center. She was dressed in a casual yet flowery dress which helped tame her curved shape. Gently, she was wiping her hands on a towel after drying the dishes. Masshiro could feel his mother smile at him, happy to see him up and about. She spoke in her soften tones when she started to address him. “Sleep well?”

Masshiro nodded his head, shrugging his shoulders at the question.

“Good, now that you’re awake. Hurry up. Stop playing already and get that tush into gear.” With those last words, she popped back out then started to yell at some of his siblings with a demand to cease running in the house.

Masshiro relaxed at the thought of being alone again, his fingers ruffled his hand to rid himself of the anxiety. Not wasting more time, he stepped to getting dressing in his usual outfit. His arms were pulling the pants, shirt, and other needed things from the various drawers when the reality of the situation started to slap him in the face.

He was actually a Genin. After all those years struggling in class and pushing himself, his dreams were starting to finally take wing to the road’s end. For several moments he let his shock settle over his mind. When the sensation of a small, wet tear dripped down his cheek, Masshiro’s finger lifted up to calmly brush it away. It might’ve not seem like much, that little tear, but to Masshiro, it was merely an trickle of what he was feeling inside and had allowed to surface. Inside, if he could describe the joy and relief, it would’ve been like a vermillion bird rising from the ashes. Jarring himself from his inner thoughts, the boy quickly wrapped up his task before shipping out to the kitchen.

Children, all shapes, ages and sizes, were scrambling in and out of the house’s front door. Their faces filled with cheer and happiness while Masshiro carefully kept his eyes downward. His taller and lankier body easily parted his younger siblings and quickly took a seat at the low table, his legs folded underneath him. The first thing his mother brought out was the green tea, setting the large, white and blue pattern pot on the center alongside his squarish cup. After pouring his tea, he watched her walk back into the kitchen for his meal which turned out be one of his favorites: Oyakodon with a fried egg on top, and miso soup on the side. Upon setting them down, she herself took a seat and waited until he actually started to dig into the meal to discuss an unwanted topic.

“So… mind telling me what happened to your bed, Masshiro?”

The white haired boy nearly choked on his food, biting into a egg piece, chicken, beans, and rice collected into his mouth. He coughed hard, his teeth sank into the wooden chopsticks, and he tried to swallow the lodge food in his throat down. Keeping his chopstick in his mouth, his hand fisted then smacked his chest a few times. However, his mother seemed unfazed by the sight as her head resting in her head, studying his reaction in mild amusement.

"So, ya going to answer me or do I tell your father? Or worse, inform Hanawa?"

When Masshiro could breath again, his body tensed at the mention of his father. His head jerked to his mom's direction, careful not to look in her eyes, when he lied.

"I... What do you mean what happened to my bed? I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Ummm..." The woman said thoughtfully, her finger rises to press tightly to her frowning lips. "Masshiro, look at me. And say that to me again."

The boy stilled. His head pulled down and narrowed on the table surface before him, his meal forgotten for the moment. It was by choice he let his body language seep through when around those he loved so he knew his mom knew he was lying. Even if it was continually monitored, he had a feeling her instincts would've screamed his guilty anyway. "I'll replace it, I swear."

"Not the point, Hun. This isn't normal and it seems you've been having them an awful lot lately. Is something bothering you?" In a motherly impulse, her hand gently feathered away his bangs pulls over his eye. "If you need to talk, you I'll listen."

"I know. I'll have Hanawa-chan look at my hand as well, then maybe see what he suggests. I think I'm just restless is all, I hope." Masshiro admitted, his hand already raised to remove the chopsticks dangling from his mouth. He lifted his eyes to meet hers as he spoke, letting her see the sincerity in his words. She visibly tensed at the energy and emotion, her breath paused for a moment into unexpected action. Shortly his mother regained her composure since having become use to it over the years. "I'm still your mother in the end, and I have a right to know. You're my child after all. Now, finish your breakfast and get to the academy. They will likely give you your first assignment as a Genin and don't want to be late for that." Negishi-San added then sat upright when she noted the only set of twin boys out of the family, Kohei and Kokan, heading out the door.

Both of them were trailing out of the house with water balloons sacked in their thin arms, their actions seemed almost purely criminal while they tried to avoid being seen on the way. Masshiro watched his mother scowl as she got to her feet and moved to to stop the twins, her body placed between them and the door. She followed it up with a shout on approaching them. "For Genmyou's sake, you two! Kohei and Kokan, will you put those balloons back, now!"

Masshiro chuckled softly when the two boys darted for the back door, startled by their mother's reprimand and forcing her to rush after them. Taking the opportunity, he returned to his breakfast while his mind pondered how the rest of the day would go.

~}Half an hour later|{~

It had taken nearly half an hour but he managed to avoid his other siblings, finally escaping the house and was now strolling through the stone streets of Kumogakure. Being on a mountain had its perks as the air was usually clean and fresh, absent the usual taints experienced in the valley areas. After all, only a few places could grow the needed herbs native to their region which made it necessary to take side trips down from their mountain home. He wasn't the first, or last, stupid child to brazenly push the boundaries of their village. Most would’ve seen this as an act that was risking war among their neighbor. Others the playful antics of immature children.

Unlike many of his follow students, at least he could count the times he did it on one hand.

His hand clasped his coat front tightly while he scaled the wounding paths leading from one spiral peak to another. The whole time Masshiro's eyes were shifted downward and carefully he avoided looking into someone's face, his figure easily dodging narrow brushing his shoulder against any casual walker’s. The last thing he wanted was to piss off a hot head itching for a fight. At that thought, Masshiro's mind flashed with the image of Jaakuna and shuddered. He had seen the sadistic bastard engage in enough random and unprovoked fights to be certain he should avoid crossing paths with the nin. There was only one way that situation was going to end. With a death, likely his or both of them, and the idea it was because of some lunatic’s gruff inability to control his temper. It was the fear of that outcome which had made Masshiro determined to give Jaakuna a wide berth. He didn’t need to go interacting with someone that easily set off after all.

A small yawn edged into Masshiro's features causing his hand to stifle it. The mountain's cold air breezed into his bones and kept him walking just to stay warm. Ahead, there was sounds of giggling and laughter causing his pace to slow, prodding his curiosity to seek out the source. He came around the corner of a building just in time to see the scene unfolding in the academy grounds. His feet paused in his stroll, abruptly standing there, and observing the game being played. He knew it well, recalling the fact he use to play with Hanawa-chan in their youth. In this instance, however, instead of the seeker being Hanawa-chan it was another girl. One he knew only at a distance. He recalled her name being Manami-san.

From what Masshiro had seen of her, she was an accomplished Jōnin nicknamed the ‘Spider of the Lightning’ but beyond that fact and her appearance, he knew nothing else about her. Immediately the academy children took off into different directions when she started to count. Each one seeking a place to stow way beyond their older playmate's gaze, giggling and hushing in their efforts to outwit the older woman. It was odd to Masshiro to see a Jōnin, out of the academy and already aiding the village, spending her time with those younger than herself. It made him slightly miss the enjoyment his sister and him use to have as children. That thought made his feet stir once more to move to the academy stairs. Life was simple back then but now, it just got more complicated. The sudden realizing the future he was about to face was hard to predict, made him ease as old worries resurfaced from his past.

Only time would tell what happened next and he became a bit bitter at the thought he couldn’t control it.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Hi guys,

I just got off the phone with 'Shape, and he may or may not be around for the next few days. His cat that he's had for like over 12 years died in his arms tonight and he's pretty broken up. I told him to take a break and mourn and come back when he's ready.

He said that if anyone has anything they need to talk to him about directly, go ahead and PM him and he'll respond when he comes on. Other than that, defer any questions or approvals to Dedonus until he comes back in a day or so.

@Kalistar

I know that feeling. Oldman, my dog a while back, died due to poisoning because some bastard decided it was fun to toss poisoned meat in the pen they were in. All the puppies we had started to die one by one, and there wasn't any thing we could do, which was a fucked up situation. At first, Oldie seemed to be getting better as on the day before he died, he was up and moving. Wagging his tail, eating and drinking which made me happy as a clam. It wasn't until the next morning, I was informed by mom he had died. Now, the realization hadn't quite hit me until later that night and when it did, it was hard. I literally spent hours down stairs on the couch just... crying. It felt like someone had literally taken my heart, crushed into fine powder and the hole it left as sucking me in to a world of hurt.

So tell Shape to take all the time he needs and we'll be waiting on him when he gets back. A pet is family, no matter what they look like or are classed as.

[Always Lonely] Naruto: Continuum [Always Open]

Cracks Knuckles and works on this now...

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

@Heat & @Dblade26, You two are up!

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

~| Day 2, 8:45- 8:55 GST |~
~| Aboard the Kaggath, Sith Rooms→Sith Halls|~
~|Zanna & Jayda|~

Jayda’s ears easily caught the sound of knuckles rattling the door of her room. At the sound, her head cocked and the meat bone she had been gnawing on, quietly tapped the metal plate. She was done with her meal for now, though not by choice. Her eyes narrowed at the persistent source, her unwanted guest still insisting on getting her attention, while she mentally considered who was brazen enough to approach her. It took several moments and immediately, Jayda’s mind came up with the answer. Zanna. Inwardly the Zabrak groaned as she braced herself and slowly made it to her feet. Her hand gripped the bedpost tightly to keep her balance as she shuffled to the door, her body weak from Sish's punishment. In her right hand was her lightsaber, poised and ready to be ignited should Zanna become stupid. Despite what the Sith apprentice has said, Jayda didn’t fully trust her claims she needed help in improving in her lightsaber combat.

To the Zabrak, it made little sense how Zanna could’ve survived this long without some edge. That lingering fact and the addition of Zanna wanting her aid, put Jayda's paranoia on high alert. Cautiously, her hand released her grip on the post and opened the door. It came open with a abrupt hiss revealing the Red Sith to her sharp eyes.

When she stepped back to let the fellow apprentice in, her nose caught a whiff of sulfur. On impulse, her free hand jerked up and over her nose, shielding it from the harsh odor invading her senses. Instantly she hissed out the first thing that came to her mind and leaned in slightly to examine for scorch marks. “What is that hellish stink?! Were you in a lab when something exploded or caught on fire?”

Well. No training today it seems. Zanna thought, somewhat disappointedly. Still, what could be expected from barbaric ‘teaching’ lessons that Sish used? Just as she opened her mouth to ask if their training was going to begin the same time tomorrow, Jayda’s face scrunched and her hand covered her nose. Zanna blinked in surprise, taken from her slightly pitying study of Jayda’s injuries and state (the damn lizard’s cruelty), by the Zabrak’s sudden outburst. That surprise was quickly taken by irritation and indignation, all carefully smothered and kept from her face and body language. Impure whore needs to fix her tone. Zanna thought darkly, before addressing the situation at hand. The Red Sith’s eyebrow rose, question clear on her face. “I don’t even have access to a la-” She paused, looking down at the second lightsaber clipped to her belt. “Wait.” She unclipped it and held it toward Jayda. “Does it smell stronger on this?” If so...Zanna had the perfect thing to do rather than train.

Jayda had expected Zanna's body to match up with the questioning tone she gave, but it didn’t, just like before. It didn’t surprise the Zabrak in the least that the Sith continued this. While she wasn’t on the talent level an Echani would be, who likely could distinguish an individual’s mood on body movement alone as easy as breathing, she could easily tell when someone was deliberately hiding their natural reactions. It didn’t help her hormones had shifted slightly causing Jayda’s mind to become very alert to everything Zanna did. Something that only gave Jayda more reason to expect the worse of the apprentice as Zanna started to deny one possible explanation of the sulfuric scent, her sentence abruptly stopped in the middle. Something seemed to have dawned on Zanna because she looked down at the second lightsaber at settled upon the her waist, drawing it to Jayda's attention for the first time, and passed toward the Zabrak causing the older apprentice to study it for a moment. Jayda's hand was still over her nose to dampened the scent but it could not eliminated it completely. As it strengthening, her fingers clamped tighter, applying enough pressure to almost halt her breathing and struggled to focus past the odor invading her sensitive nose.

At the Sith's actions, Jayda's eyes immediately glared at Zanna with disdain at shoving the thing in her direction, her purple irises shimmered in annoyance before she grudgingly uncovered her nose to take the lightsaber. She choked back a sour taste at her throat and swallowed it down, stubbornly refusing to vomit in front of the fellow apprentice. One thing, angry as it made her, the Lizard and her shared was the agreement that weakness in this place was a good way to paint a target on her back.

Her fingers hooked about the weapon's end, the dangerous other end pointed at Zanna, and brought it a few inches toward her face. Her paranoia kept it at a far enough distance that should it had been tampered with, she had time to limit the damage it might caused her. The lightsaber obviously wasn't Zanna's as the Zabrak noted, a briefly glance to the other Sith's waist to reassure her suspicions, that the Red Sith's weapon of choice was still latched at her belt. Satisfying a confirming her first assumption, Jayda's eyes returned to the lightsaber. First thing she noticed was that there was no blacken signs. To her, it meant the weapon had never been in a fight recent or damaged in anyway. A lack of death and a sickly smell concluded not poison was used either.

Though it didn't prove that Zanna hadn't disposed of the own and placed the sulfur scent, it eliminated at least two options she could've gained her 'trophy': direct combat and poisoning. Most would've been confused by why her conclusion excluded the foul, underhanded tactic so easily and it was rather simple. Most poisons alter an individual's scent into a subtle, sickly that a keen nose could faintly detect and anything they touched also lingered with it. Jayda knew these methods to both be easy and acceptable ways to get rid of competition onboard the Kaggath. With Nyiss' blunt disregard of the primary rule set by the Sith's own dark council, the fear of death no longer applied to the more ambitious apprentices and lords. Likely that was the primary fact she was so edgy here.

After Jayda's nostrils flared a bit longer, biting through the nausea curdling in her core in her stubbornness, she passed the weapon back. "Yes, it’s strongest on that and likely, I assume, you can’t smell anything other than the sulfur?"

The Red Sith’s golden eyes met Jayda’s annoyed one calmly, waiting for the other apprentice to take the lightsaber. I’ve been a bit too bending with her. If she was right, Jayda could help her figure out what exactly happened to this lightsaber’s owner. Before whatever happened to them happened to her. Zanna watched Jayda carefully, ready to dodge out of the way should the Zabrak try anything stupid like activate the lightsaber into her chest.. A light smile crossed her face at the Zabrak’s discomfort, only for a brief moment. She didn’t want to piss off the apprentice and have her refuse to train her, or even worse try to kill her in a fit of rage. Sish had already proven he was capable of that, and Zanna didn’t want to see how much like her master Jayda was. Her eyes brightened with interest and anticipation as Jayda spoke. So there is a smell. And smell’s can be tracked. Especially if the sniffer is sentient.

“That’s all I can smell, yes. I found it abandoned in a room with black marks and a melted open vent. Seeing as you’re in no condition to train, perhaps you’d like to see this room? You might be able to smell or see something I missed.” As much as the words left a sour taste in her mouth, they were true. The Zabrak would be better able to see or smell in the room, and probably be able to find whoever was killing Sith. For no Sith would leave their lightsaber laying around, and themselves unarmed.

When Zanna took the lightsaber and freed up Jayda’s hand, the Zabrak’s eyes still forced on her unwanted guest. Her head cocked only slightly at the suggestion made by the other Sith and caused her eyebrow to lift, her eyes studied the outlandish suggestion provided. Even Jayda knew how foolish it was to go seeking the source with someone she barely knew. There was little proof that Zanna herself wasn’t the killer and she wasn’t trying to off the competition. So why, Jayda considered, would she provide an opportunity to do exactly that to Zanna? breathing in deeply, Jayda seemed to stand in complete stillness for a long time while she debated with herself over the proper means to approach this decision. She recalled the scent smelled like any other Sith but there was something… off with it. Something that screamed nothing positive about it and it made her instinct curl and darken with warning. That was something she didn’t like in the least because to ignore it meant she would suffer later over the consequences of her decision. Pressing her lips tightly together, she inhaled deeply then exhaled in anger over her hand being forced one way. “The vent might explain the smoke but not the sulfur or the… darkside scent. So where exactly did you find that and what was the state of the room?”

She wasn’t going to rush into this careless after all.

Zanna covered her face with an exasperated hand as Jayda made it clear her suspicion and paranoia. “May I remind you that I could have killed you at least three times over by now? Once when I was in your mind. Once while you were unconscious after Sish got through with you. A final time when you had passed out from blood loss. But no, I let go of your mind. I made sure you weren’t going to die from Sish’s lesson. I even used the last of my emergency Alchemical healing goo to make sure you survived passing out from blood loss. If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead.” She spoke in a soft, irritated, whisper. Jayda likely didn’t want the other Sith or the cameras over hearing how many times she had been at Zanna’s mercy, after all. When Jayda finally asked her question, Zanna giving another small smile at her obvious anger, the apprentice wasted little time answering her interest obviously perking as Jayda mentioned ‘Darkside scent’ . In a few brief words, the Red Sith described the room’s location and state for Jayda.

“Shall we go?”

Jayda hardened her stare, the irises filled with warning at Zanna’s words, as her grip on her lightsaber tightened briefly. It seemed, for a split second, the apprentice was considering testing how easily she could get away with the laxation of the no kill rule before her hand eased on the pressure for it seemed like another time while onboard. Instead, she lowered her weapon and pushed aside her robes, clipping her weapon to her belt. She listened to Zanna’s description about the scene. Jayda’s expression revealed little though her mind turned and twisted the possible explanations in her mind. Each option that cropped up as plausible, she cross examined which parts would fit the given elements but despite her efforts, nothing could explain everything. Most of all, how the struggle had happened and no one had seen someone exiting the room. Knowing something or someone stronger was lurking around the ship and itching to kill Sith was evidence someone was liberally exercising their boundaries, even worse was the disposing of their bodies effectively without anyone spotting the method. It was bad enough she was edgy as it was, but these discoveries caused her to become even worse. She didn’t even had a clue how this was possible without some sort of obvious sign.

At Zanna’s question, Jayda nodded and stepped past the Red Sith only to pause a second to become even with Zanna’s shoulder. Her words breaking the silence in a quiet, venomous tone. “Being Sish’s apprentice has one advantage… I learned there’s some things worse than death. Just because you’ve not killed me doesn’t mean you’re not patient or waiting to cause me something worse.”

With those words lingering, she stepped outside the room and threatened to leave Zanna behind if she didn’t follow. Later on, however, Jayda intended to check the surveillance camera and see if she could spot the Sith coming or going who was responsible for the crime. It would be hard to get the sulfur and smoke of his or her clothes after all.

Zanna glared back at Jayda, clearly ready to use the force if the Zabrak used her lightsaber. She was tired of Jayda blatantly assuming that she wanted to kill her. It was a good paranoia to have, but blatantly letting it display was annoying and exasperating. She relaxed a miniscule amount as Jayda clipped the lightsaber onto her belt. The Red Sith waited, slightly impatiently, as Jayda considered her options before finally stepping forward. Jayda stopped a little too close for Zanna’s comfort, but she didn’t let it show. Damned if she was going to let the Zabrak intimidate her. But this blatant paranoia had to stop. Not only was it annoying, it would hamper their training if Jayda thought every twitch was Zanna trying to kill her. “Such a shame you’re not worth that much effort then.” She hissed back. “You’re not subtle. You’re confrontational. While there is a certain intelligence to you, you decide to not use it in favor of the lizard’s teachings. You’re decidedly disinterested in gaining Nyiss’s favor, or gaining more power. The only thing you do want is to kill Sish. You’re not a threat, and you’re not something to ally with. The only thing I want from you is better lightsaber skills, and the only thing you’re getting from me is better Force skills. Remember that.”

She followed, waiting for Jayda to find the room and deliver her verdict. And, perhaps, lead them to whomever the mystery scent was.

Jayda weighed Zanna's reply in her head while she was waiting outside. Impulsively, her instincts stirred inside and increased her awareness of her surroundings. Closed in metal walls limited her mobility and gave her little comfort when it came to defense, instead they were more like a corner to trap her in. Her nose inhaled softly, silently cursing at her unnerved mind. It kept trying to coax her into running and hiding hiding while she clamped down her stubborn nature upon it. She didn’t come this far to merely run away. For a brief, risky moment she shut her eyes then forced her fear into the center of her hearts. The chilling sensation died gradually and gathered into a neat, swirling ball before finally fading for the time. It would be back, but not for a while at least.

Realizing she would need to mediate at some point within the day, Jayda’s mind became aware of Zanna’s eyes resting on her. All around the Zabrak apprentice, energies drenched in her darkside made chaotic patterns about her and seemed particularly thicker than last time she wandered these corridors. It was difficult to ignored since the change was so drastic. At first, Jayda had considered it was due to the number of Sith being in close proximity to each other but now.. she wasn’t so sure. Her hands lingered on her belt where her lightsaber laid, through it was obvious she wasn’t going use it, and shifted slightly in the hallway.

All the time, her eyes were closed to absorb the scent she had collected from the lightsaber earlier. Sulfuric, smoky, and unsettling fixed their scents into her mind and caused her to focus harder into locating them. The strongest source, naturally, was where Zanna had originally came from. Jayda was greatly suspicious and disappointed in not smelling it in a stronger concentration in a direction leading away from the room. Usually when the same scent overlaps, it happens when prey is exiting the room. This clue was both confused and disturbing to her at the same time. If she was scenting this correcting, her mind certain of it, then by all logical the killer never left.

Jayda's eyes snapped open to look at Zanna as her voice spoke softly. "Are you sure you checked everywhere in that room? There’s no scent exiting the room..."

Zanna watched Jayda carefully as the Zabrak closed her eyes and sniffed, presumably gathering the scent from the room. Zanna was nervous being even near the room, even with Jayda. Now that she actually had time to feel the dark side energies aside from a passing glance, Zanna could be worried. There was something wrong with it, something that radiated the dark side. The dark side itself wasn’t wrong. That was familiar, comfortable even. It was the sheer amount of darkside in the room. The Lords were...pathetic, compared to the raw power Zanna felt. Only Nyiss was stronger and only then, very slightly. The Red Sith shifted nervously, her weight going slightly from foot to foot. Her gaze was unfocused as she tried to focus on the energies to see if she could glean any information from it. She failed. The most she could gain was that, whoever their mystery person was, they were very attuned with the dark side.

The Red Sith’s gaze moved back to focus on Jayda as the Zabrak spoke. “Unless they can shrink themselves, or there is a hidden door I don’t know about, there shouldn’t be anyway they could have left from. However, I did not look everywhere in the room. I got the lightsaber, noticed the vent under the bed and the damage, then left.” Zanna pointed to the bed in question, which could be seen from the door.. “The vent is melted open.”

“Or...they never left the room,” Jayda stated bluntly, her eyes opened and looked toward the room. She stared hard at it, her eyes looked for signs of forced entrance or other obvious signs something was wrong but all she got was the scent lingering in her nose. Nothing new. Jayda growled in irritation while listened to Zanna shift nervously, her own unsettledness growing by the moment, her head jerked to rest upon the Red Sith. “Settle down, center your thoughts and nervousness. It’s not helping me focus at all.”

Carefully, her feet started to walk toward it as she drew closer to the room. Her hand reached out to the doorway and her body stopped just short of entering, her nostrils flared with the foul scent that invaded her mind and nearly caused Jayda to gag. Again, she swallowed the taste down forcefully. The next several minutes were spent examining the room while Zanna stood there, her head scanning for unwanted attack attempts. It wasn’t a suitable situation for Jayda through the Zabrak saw no other way to complete her task without risk. In the end, she chose Zanna over the latter merely due to the fact the apprentice’s points were somewhat valid.

“Whatever it was, it’s no longer here. Somehow, it got out, likely with the body, and disposed of it.” Jayda stated when her pulled herself upright from the floor, her leg brought up to rest underneath her. She looked back at the Red Sith refusing to enter.

Zanna didn’t even glare at Jayda for her tone, but stopped her moving. She took a deep breath, smothering and shoving her nervousness and other emotions away to be used later. She followed the Zabrak, but stopped at the door way. The wave of darkside power had only gotten stronger, if that was possible. It was vaguely reminiscent of what she had done in Jayda’s room last night, only far more powerful.I’ve only felt that when… Zanna shivered. If someone else could do what she was thinking, on this ship, her chances of survival just plummeted.

Her gaze met Jayda’s and for once, she wasn’t hiding anything. Everything about her displayed worry, and she didn’t care if the Zabrak noticed. “Can’t you feel it?” She asked, softly, arms crossed tightly as she held herself. “The unnatural amount of darkside energies? Old darkside energies. Someone was playing with things they shouldn’t have been. Come on. Lets leave this place. There’s nothing more to be discovered.” She turned and began heading away from the room. As she put distance between herself and the room, a touch of her confidence began to return. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll find the trail of whatever it was that was in that room.”

“You seem to act like I should know the difference. The darkside has always been the same no matter who was emitting it, the only difference is the intensity. Namely it’s worse inside this ship.” Jayda mumbled softly under her breath. She was weak, her body notably showed it. Gingerly her arm raised upward to grip the post and pulled herself upward, her leg straightening with her rise to her feet. The movement caused her to grunt and pant softly, her muscles screamed against the effort to stand. Vertigo edged into her mind causing her balance to become unsteady as her grip on the post tightened, her vision corner catching the movement of Zanna’s departure.

Abruptly, Jayda’s head whipped about making her flinch in reaction to the effect. Her sight blurred for a moment and her body jerked, nearly crumbling on the spot. This wasn’t good she thought and gritted her teeth more to bare through the disorienting results of her sudden rush to her feet. The meat, rest and salve had only helped a slight bit to mend what blood loss had done to her system. It would take at least another day or two to fully recover. Days, Jayda thought bitterly, she wouldn’t have thanks to Sish. Afterall he wanted her to become stronger and sitting around in bed, recouping from his punishment, wasn’t suitable for his strong survive beliefs. See Zanna almost out the door, Jayda’s hand released its grip from the bunk and feet carefully turned to follow. It took all her will not fall face first into the hard metal ground when she tried to retain the pace suited to keep up with the rushing apprentice. It was clear in her movements, hasting pace and unwillingness to slow that she wanted to retreat as far away from the room. Her words, slightly for once, matched her nervous motions.

Jayda walked in silence, her eyes visual and alert to where their path took them, while the Red Sith lead the way. Through the day was drawing into the later hours of the morning, according to the Zabrak’s inner biological clock, she couldn’t help but notice they were the sole Sith stirring. Jayda would’ve expected to see other Lords or apprentices scurrying about, her sight only finding troopers of various ranks and heights roaming the halls at this hour. She found it strange to acknowledge her disappointment in realize there was a larger difference between her expectations and reality.

The Sith had just pulled into a hall nearest the arena when six troopers appeared. Between the men were two prisoners, both drastically different in their ages, being escorted toward the prison complex at a forced marched pace. The youngest was a padawan, an Echani , from his braid and his appearance. Through the gender was only distinct by slight scent he gave off , both male and female Echani were almost impossible to tell apart by sight alone, and enabled her to identify it as masculine. Thankfully, by now, any remains of the sulfuric and smoky scents in the other room had long faded. The other prisoner was a thicker built and older Knight, his braid missing, and looking much worse compared to the barely touched padawan. It was clear he had been interrogated by Empire crew thanks to the bruises, scars, and more spotted through his torn up clothes, but for what reason Jayda couldn’t come fully understand. Out of habit, she had been following behind Zanna at a reasonable distance through not far enough to lose her while they approached the prisoners.