- Joined
- May 9, 2014
- Messages
- 1,934
- Reaction score
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Participants: Kes (NPC'd), Arkteleus Krayzen
Ziost
The window in Ark's private quarters was open, and the fresh snow drifted in to precariously set themselves upon the warmed floor. Ark was particularly in a mix of emotions right now. SO many things were on his mind, and he was deeply concerned whether or not he'd be able to sort everything out in time.
Not only 15 minutes ago, he'd had a visitor, an extremely common one around the Temple, that had brought him news that was, for a lack of better words, disturbing and perplexing. And that along carried the most questions for him. So many questions that simply had no answers. In fact, there were a plethora of things it meant for Ark that was simply too much for him to think of, and the nostalgia of the story he'd been told was all too familiar. It nearly caused tears to well up in this eyes, but like any bad *ss Sith Juggernaut, he forced them down and pretended it was impossible to cry.
The War raged about him, Rebels, Dark Jedi, the Jedi, and worst of all, the Coterie. Perplexing was all he could say. How could the Sith fight them all off? And worst of all, he felt like he was the only one on the frontlines of battle until just recently. Ironically, it was now that was the moment he felt most alone.
Ark taught himself as an Acolyte that there was no one he could truly count on, and yet throughout his career, he'd found several individuals he believed he could actually trust in one way or another. However, the first of those was none other than his next visitor today. Kes. Ark had met him as an Acolyte, and it forced him into his first real friend around the Sith Temples. In fact, it was on this very planet that Ark had first met Kes, and in a Blizzard no less.
When all hope seemed to be quickly draining away, Kes had stepped in just in time to help Ark out when all else had abandoned him. It was the first moment that he considered the fact that there was in fact, at least, one person in the Order that Ark could possibly care about. f 'course, there were others, but Kes stood out the first, and they'd subsequently dragged each other into training exercises that quickened their bond. And now, during War and the dawn of the worst news, Ark had him near.
Ark's fur brushed against the wind, almost a if to want to be carried away in it. It covered the battle scars he wore as proud reminders of his accomplishments, and it held the culture of his home world, Kashyyyk. It had grown very long, as compared to the extremely neatly trimmed shorter, hair that Ark had first displayed to Kes. Despite how long it was, Ark managed to keep it incomprehensibly clean and out of the way. Tribal braiding and beads hung on his facial fur as a plethora of symbols from the Tribe he frequented, showcasing acceptance by the local Wookie population, and the pattern the beads he wore showed a story all in themselves; However, those who could read it were rare, and the story was something too difficult to tell in words, and as such, Ark wore it on his face for everyone to see, but not understand. It was his own little inside joke to the rest of the world.
Ark had nothing on him, allowing every flake that entered the room to either bounce off of his body or latch onto his long fur. The white and black patterning seemed to show a muscle definition that was somewhat common amongst the greatest of athletes among the Order, but it was a mirage of what Ark truly was, where the fur rounded out the true definition of what tones really was for a Kushari. If shaved fur... well, Ark would look quite foolish, but one would also find that Ark's muscle definition was impossible, explaining how he could weigh so much more than any other creature in the Temple, while standing only as tall as he was. The only thing that didn't seem to show such muscle was the tail that flicked from side to side. And if anyone were to be able to read the body language of a Kushari's tail, they'd find that Ark was in deep contemplation.
Ark's thoughts, however, were broken by the sudden approach of Kes' familiar Force signature. There were many Force signatures, that Ark had an intimate knowledge of, but Kes' was one of an ancient friendliness that was hard to replace. Ark closed the window to the chambers, ceasing the influx of the snow, where the ambient roar of the heating systems could be heard moving in overdrive to equalize the temperature Ark had let fall. However, it was only the brisk still in the room that was the only remnant of when the window was opened, and though it could be still felt by anyone in the room when first entering.
Ark's Force signature had increased tenfold, the sin of a true Warrior of the Sith at the potential of Mastery, having finally found it. Though Ark wasn't necessarily at his peak, he was near it, and the signature would tell the shadow of stories of what Ark had accomplish. It would only lead Ark to wonder what Kes would think of him. Would he believe Ark to be the same person he'd met so long ago in the Blizzard of Ziost? Or would he think Ark had taken on the brutish role of every Master they've both feared in the hallways of Ziost and Korriban? IN reality, Ark hoped it was somewhere in between... At least for Kes. Approachable, but certainly changed from the days long past. It was nice to finally see Kes after so long, and sharing their stories would be exciting.
Before Kes opened, Ark walked to a small clearing on the far side of the chambers, in which Ark had several rooms within the chambers, each dedicated to a particular function. This particular room was still visible from the entrance, and it was a cleared space with different tiling, made from the wood of a Wroshyr Tree, where Ark would practice his Martial Arts in solitude. Kes would gain the honor of joining Ark.
Catching a pose from Teras Kasi, Ark remembered that Kes was also a practitioner, and he'd instantly be greeted by familiarity, when the doors to the Chambers opened for him almost preemptively, "Welcome Kes, my old friend."
Ziost
The Sickest Of Us All, Are Generally Our Favorites
The window in Ark's private quarters was open, and the fresh snow drifted in to precariously set themselves upon the warmed floor. Ark was particularly in a mix of emotions right now. SO many things were on his mind, and he was deeply concerned whether or not he'd be able to sort everything out in time.
Not only 15 minutes ago, he'd had a visitor, an extremely common one around the Temple, that had brought him news that was, for a lack of better words, disturbing and perplexing. And that along carried the most questions for him. So many questions that simply had no answers. In fact, there were a plethora of things it meant for Ark that was simply too much for him to think of, and the nostalgia of the story he'd been told was all too familiar. It nearly caused tears to well up in this eyes, but like any bad *ss Sith Juggernaut, he forced them down and pretended it was impossible to cry.
The War raged about him, Rebels, Dark Jedi, the Jedi, and worst of all, the Coterie. Perplexing was all he could say. How could the Sith fight them all off? And worst of all, he felt like he was the only one on the frontlines of battle until just recently. Ironically, it was now that was the moment he felt most alone.
Ark taught himself as an Acolyte that there was no one he could truly count on, and yet throughout his career, he'd found several individuals he believed he could actually trust in one way or another. However, the first of those was none other than his next visitor today. Kes. Ark had met him as an Acolyte, and it forced him into his first real friend around the Sith Temples. In fact, it was on this very planet that Ark had first met Kes, and in a Blizzard no less.
When all hope seemed to be quickly draining away, Kes had stepped in just in time to help Ark out when all else had abandoned him. It was the first moment that he considered the fact that there was in fact, at least, one person in the Order that Ark could possibly care about. f 'course, there were others, but Kes stood out the first, and they'd subsequently dragged each other into training exercises that quickened their bond. And now, during War and the dawn of the worst news, Ark had him near.
Ark's fur brushed against the wind, almost a if to want to be carried away in it. It covered the battle scars he wore as proud reminders of his accomplishments, and it held the culture of his home world, Kashyyyk. It had grown very long, as compared to the extremely neatly trimmed shorter, hair that Ark had first displayed to Kes. Despite how long it was, Ark managed to keep it incomprehensibly clean and out of the way. Tribal braiding and beads hung on his facial fur as a plethora of symbols from the Tribe he frequented, showcasing acceptance by the local Wookie population, and the pattern the beads he wore showed a story all in themselves; However, those who could read it were rare, and the story was something too difficult to tell in words, and as such, Ark wore it on his face for everyone to see, but not understand. It was his own little inside joke to the rest of the world.
Ark had nothing on him, allowing every flake that entered the room to either bounce off of his body or latch onto his long fur. The white and black patterning seemed to show a muscle definition that was somewhat common amongst the greatest of athletes among the Order, but it was a mirage of what Ark truly was, where the fur rounded out the true definition of what tones really was for a Kushari. If shaved fur... well, Ark would look quite foolish, but one would also find that Ark's muscle definition was impossible, explaining how he could weigh so much more than any other creature in the Temple, while standing only as tall as he was. The only thing that didn't seem to show such muscle was the tail that flicked from side to side. And if anyone were to be able to read the body language of a Kushari's tail, they'd find that Ark was in deep contemplation.
Ark's thoughts, however, were broken by the sudden approach of Kes' familiar Force signature. There were many Force signatures, that Ark had an intimate knowledge of, but Kes' was one of an ancient friendliness that was hard to replace. Ark closed the window to the chambers, ceasing the influx of the snow, where the ambient roar of the heating systems could be heard moving in overdrive to equalize the temperature Ark had let fall. However, it was only the brisk still in the room that was the only remnant of when the window was opened, and though it could be still felt by anyone in the room when first entering.
Ark's Force signature had increased tenfold, the sin of a true Warrior of the Sith at the potential of Mastery, having finally found it. Though Ark wasn't necessarily at his peak, he was near it, and the signature would tell the shadow of stories of what Ark had accomplish. It would only lead Ark to wonder what Kes would think of him. Would he believe Ark to be the same person he'd met so long ago in the Blizzard of Ziost? Or would he think Ark had taken on the brutish role of every Master they've both feared in the hallways of Ziost and Korriban? IN reality, Ark hoped it was somewhere in between... At least for Kes. Approachable, but certainly changed from the days long past. It was nice to finally see Kes after so long, and sharing their stories would be exciting.
Before Kes opened, Ark walked to a small clearing on the far side of the chambers, in which Ark had several rooms within the chambers, each dedicated to a particular function. This particular room was still visible from the entrance, and it was a cleared space with different tiling, made from the wood of a Wroshyr Tree, where Ark would practice his Martial Arts in solitude. Kes would gain the honor of joining Ark.
Catching a pose from Teras Kasi, Ark remembered that Kes was also a practitioner, and he'd instantly be greeted by familiarity, when the doors to the Chambers opened for him almost preemptively, "Welcome Kes, my old friend."