Into the Void (Slayn)

[Tempist Opps]

The townsquare was empty today. There were few people there, and even some of the vendors had packed up. The sky had turned dark, almost black. Some had lit torches, but it was futile. The rain would soon fall, and their business would be ruined for the day. The unusial calm that fell upon the market was welcome to Tempist, he didn't feel like dealing with people today.

He made his way from stand to stand, occasionaly picking somthing up to examine it, pretending to have interest. There was really one or two shops of interest to him, but should he have to do business with any of the others here, he wanted to gain their trust.

Suddenly, the Sith sensed another force user... but it was impossible to tell what it was. It seemed familiar, but somehow, very different. He searched through his mind, looking for the signature's owner, and only one person came to mind....

Slayn Cloak.

Back when Slayn was new in TSE, the two of them had became friends. After Slayn's departure, they both had changed radicly. Tempist no longer even looked the same, and his abilities had grown emensley. He sensed a great darkness about Slayn, but it no longer seemed as strong as it once was.... had he become a 'grey sider'? Tempist droped his hand onto the hilt of his black-bladed longsaber, Infinity, sensing that a fight would soon ensue, and not somthing so simple as his battles with the jedi...

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn was on this planet for only one thing, pleasure. It was ever so amusing to him; These where a simple people, their problems and insignificant scuffles where simply nothing more than that. Slayn still loved to watch them suffer, sometimes he would add to the fire, when it suited him of course. After all they where of little relevance.

After a while Slayn grew tiered of the small gladiatorial arenas, and took to the main part of this town. It wasn’t long before he could feel the sting of small pests in his mind. There seemed to be many users of the force on this planet, or at least half trained life. In this there was easily found a few that where identifiable. He noted the life force of one tempist opps, whom he had once been allied with. He seemed to be showing off his power, and in fact was quite close, but Slayn couldn’t recognize a shifter. After a second of though he new where he was and approached him calmly. Slayn began to speak in temps mind, his words where stern and sharp.

“ Greetings Opps, why so much tension, why fear? Do you bear that much strife Sith warrior? “

[Tempist Opps]

'tis not fear, little one, but anxiousness. You would be tense if your sister had just died and you had membrers from seven different orders that wanted you dead too.

Maintaining the faccade of a non-force user, Tempist finished a transaction with the vendor he was speaking to. He handed the man a credit, and took an apple in return. He casuaily took a rather large chunk from the fruit with his teeth, and turned to Slayn. He spoke verbaly, sensing that the natives weren't bright enough to pay attention to passer-by's.

"So, how has fate treated you over the passing months?"

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn continued to speak in temps mind, the common tongue at times, had the ability to sicken the young Cloak. His words and mannerisms remained as they were, he always composed himself when in conversation or, confrontation.

” I am not a child of fate, as you and many others have the pleasure of being; Just as I was created, I must in turn design my own fate. I haven’t the bliss of putting beliefs in anything or carrying false feelings.”

[Tempist Opps]

That's where you're wrong. No one controls their fate, not even us genetic creations.

Somehow, the word us seemed to be stressed, hinting to Slayn that he had discovered his origin finally.... there seemed to be more and more geneticly enchanced or created beings every day.

Feelings are the one thing I've always had that wasn't false. Perhaps soon you will understand it as well.

[Slayn Cloak]

” Perhaps instead you will learn that feelings are maid to betray you, and that true power can only be attained through technique and skill. I have found the living essence of what you call the force and will become its master. I will not serve something that I am to control!”

Slayn’s words grew in tone and rattled the Sith Warriors mind, it ripped at his conscious and bite at his will. It caused what could be described as a headache. Slayn’s eye brows narrowed but otherwise he remained the same.

[Tempist Opps]

Yes, but to blend the 'false emotion' into your technique is perfection, and throguh that clarity of power, anything can be done. Do not try my patience Cloak. We were once friends, but it seems that neither of us are the same now.

He finished his comment verbaly, as if simply trying to state a point.

"I'll show you."

Feeding off of the imense pain that had been grafted into his heart from Ravana's death, Tempist augmented his muscles with force energy, nearly trippling his natural speed. He had been trianing his speed mostly in recent days, simply becuase his muscle was already fine. With agility that puzzled many, many people, Infinity sprung to life. His arm was a blur. He lept twards Slayn, aiming a slash twards his midsection.

[Slayn Cloak]

As the image Temps swung at was ripped apart by his sword, it seemed to disappear as smoke. At this point a silhouette of a person off to the left became clear; This was really the Cloak and the one that was slashed was simple an Illusion.

” True power, hmph.”

Slayn brought his hands to his chest with a push that seemed to be restrained by something. Tempist was hurdled up and into a vendors tent, the canvas came crashing down, draping itself over temps. Slayn simply stood there as his illusion had before.

” That was a wonderful example of the power birthed from emotion, and Sith training.”.

[Tempist Opps]

The sky opened, and heavy, swelling rain began to fall, fast and hard onto the city bellow.

Tempist's eyes began to glow a dark shade of blue, the first of his three colors. As his rage progressed, they would change further, untill it was impossible not to notice. With a newfound sense of anger, Tempist flipped to his feet. He had delt with worse before. Using the massive strenth his form posessed, he lept back to his former spot. The shapeshifter held out his hand, and the world seemed to grow cold, all around. Slayn felt it too, not an emotion, but a physical feeling. All around, the rain began to freeze, into small hail pellets. Vendors ran for solid shelter, as their tents gained 'skylights', and many screamed, as the impact from the pellets stung and burned. One man seemed to be louder than the rest, having had one or two break the skin..... It didn't seem to effect Tempist though. He had erected a force sheild beforehand.

What was that of power?

[Slayn Cloak]

Heh hehaha heh

Slayn laughed loudly, it was strange and some what out of place. He held out his hand again and all the hail that was to fall upon him flew at Temps, it gained speed and force; Temps was bruised by the pelting ice.

During this a local walked near and collapsed in front of Slayn. A dark ink began to rise from his body as smoke does from burning embers. The darkness began to surround Slayn moving about him in a random order.

[Tempist Opps]

Tempist's sheild absorbed the dammage from the hail, but the icy pellets kept on coming.

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn forced the substance into a sphere in fact he created six from this darkness. They where now floating around aimlessly, they each had a diameter of four and a half centimeters. Slayn put down his hand and called Eternity out from his cloak. The double saber flew to his hand and ignited giving off almost no sound at all. He spoke in Temps mind as he had done previously.

” We were never the same, and don’t again imply that we ever could be. I marvel that you could think something so absurd, you are to frail; It seems that way with many these days.”

[Tempist Opps]

No, we never could be. For you hide behind your little tricks and false images, because you know that you cannot hold your own against a true swordsman otherwise.

The stones of water from the sky began to shift into the liquid again, and Infinity sprung to life. It's black blade pulsated with energy, having seen it's fare share of battle. So many jedi had fallen under it.... so much blood... this would just be another.

Face me head on, no faccades, coward.

As Tempist's voice filled Slayn's head again, his stance changed from a casuial one to a perfectly defended battle stand. After all these years of training and practice, Tempist was finally one of the most proficcient blade weilders in the galaxy. Few matched him, even less surpassed him.

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn said no more only motioned his hand and the darkness surrounding him wavered in its path. Out of it a shaft shot forward it went for infinity; A dark black hand sprung forth and gripped it. The weapon was hurdled off behind him. The darkness encompassed him and throbbed as it circled.

[Tempist Opps]

With a flick of his wrist, Tempist's dagger was in his hand, and sliced the dark hand from it's post. He resheathed his dagger, and called Infinity back to his hand. He wouldn't go down that easily.

[Slayn Cloak]

A laughter roused by the Sith exited the young Cloak, it was foolish of tempist to cut through something that wasn’t even sentient. It was however, musing to see the act and to notice the sence of pride emerge from the foolish Sith.

“Heh.. Hmm ho ho”

The keeper of shadows began to step closer to the man; The large spike that began to form behind him however was unnoticed. The darkness twisted upon itself sprawling into a large tapered spike. It was easily half a meter long and eight centimeters at its base.

[Tempist Opps]

Feelinga sudden massive surge of darkness in the surrounding area, Tempist knew somthing was coming. He senced the air behind him moving away, rapidly, and simply steped a few feet over. He watched as the big black spike moved directly through the spot he had just been standing, only seconds ago. It slammed into Slayn, and the warrior grinned. Although Slayn had always been powerful with the darkside, he still hadn't learned the value of a good defense. Tempist ran twards Slayn, with the intention of hacking him in half, or atleast getting a nice slice at him.

[Slayn Cloak]

OOC: The spike was behind Slayn not temps lmao... but don’t worry, I’ll just go with it.


Slayn watched temps move away and the spike flew at him; It bludgeoned him in the chest but didn’t pierce him. It flowed around him and trailed up his right side and shoulder encompassing his arm. Temp’s blade met with this darkness and absorbed all the shock of the primitive blade.
Slayn added a smile and the goo began to stream off him and onto the Sith’s person. entangling his hands and bonding them to the hilt of this blade. It continued to come off the Knight of castle Sha and streamed out on to temps, it began to burn.
The young Cloak moved back and watched his tool at work; He forced the darkness to jab at temps through means of tiny barbs, all the while eating at his skin slowly, burning in the manner of an insect sting.

[Tempist Opps]

The barbs chewed upon his flesh, like a squirrel gnaws on a nut untill it opens, presistant and powerful. It doused Tempist in pain, like water from the sky, falling from a hurricane. This was the energy he needed, the pure heat that is agony; what he could convert into force energy. He erected a force sheild, so incredibly close to him that most of the darkness was cut off and pushed aside. The little that remained withered and dicipated, from the severment (I don't think it's a real word, but it works for the moment lol). Tempist closed his eyes, and shifted slightly, only to close up the wounds accross his body from the power Slayn had unleashed. It still hurt and burned like millions of tiny hornet stings, but now it wouldn't bleed. He still had energy to spare.

By this time, the rain was falling harder than this town had seen in a long time, leaving large puddles all accross the square. The entire fighting area was littered with them, most of which interconnected. The water came half-way up the fighters' feet in some parts, and the 'dry' ground was somewhat rare amongst the dirt and mud.

A tent had colapsed next to Tempist, as the wood that supported it gave way... corruption from the darkness ate away at the post untill it snapped. Tempist pulled the fallend tarp aside, and stood in it's wake, one of the few peices of 'dry' land. He crouched down, and put his hand into the puddle. He looked up at Slayn with an evil grin, and a ribbon of ice replaced the inter-connected puddles along the ground, anything in them frozen as well. He looked up at Slayn again, watching the water around his feet solidify, and strenthen with the increasing cold.

[Slayn Cloak]

A thin sheet of ice formed and held the Cloak’s feet hostage. This was a strange technique, but not a very strategic one. Slayn looked down at the ice and back up at Tempist... it seemed there was a pause, one however that ended as abruptly as it began.
The ground cracked and shards of ice delved their way into The Sith’s body; one particularly large barb felt its way deep inside temps rid cage. It set itself inside his lung, in had entered between his third and forth rib. This set Slayn free, and gave him a brief window of opportunity.
He moved into position and seemed to teleport, this however was far from true; He had simply moved so fast that Tempist couldn’t even recognize him as a blur. His foot was placed upon Temps chest with great force, a shard crack could be heard from deep inside the Sith’s body.
Tempist was sent backwards a meter before regaining his bearings. Slayn’s feet touched the floor lightly as he landed, but it was still very slippery and the keeper almost fell. This brought him to three point stance.