Player's Choice Nominations - Favourite Hit Taken

Aug 26, 2015 2:37:16 GMT Alkor Centaris said:
He felt it seconds before it came.

Tremors in the fault lines of destiny screamed in discordant agony around him. Panic surged beneath his skin and terror bit at his blood. Thousands of voices rattled as a collective, then heaved a single sigh. Both violet eyes turned to face the harbinger of this ill fate with a grim acceptance. There was no chance to avoid what came next.

Alkor slowly turned as the Corona class frigate howled its battle cry, breaking atmosphere with a violent crack. It hurtled through air and rained misery down on the spires that towered over his head. His hood blew back in the wind to reveal the deep frown that tugged at his lips. He narrowed his gaze and drew a long breath.

The chorus of woe reverberated in his ears a second time, shattering the last vestiges of equilibrium that he managed to retain. Alkor grit his teeth in abject hostility toward the attack, one that came seemingly unprovoked and now by foul consequence targeted the Jen'jidai as well. Alkor dug in with all the effort he could muster, and he managed to keep his footing as the ground shivered beneath him.

Light, white and hot, scathed the world on every side of him. Duracrete singed by turbolaser fire blew skyward and evaporated in a screen of deadly illumination. Chaos reigned- the same chaos that once stole the breath from every man he called brother. Reopening old wounds only served to incite something within Alkor.

The heat licked at his body, barely protected by the fabric that wreathed him. The norris root, famed for qualities that resisted energy breakdown, offered him some protection from the outskirts of the blast. Combined with his own efforts to cocoon himself in dark energies, Alkor managed to stave off annihilation for at least several seconds.

Before he had the chance to breathe, the ship opened fire a second time.

Concussive force blew Alkor backward. In the time it took to draw on his latent power, Alkor felt several high volume waves of energy split his flesh. Three large lacerations blossomed open on his chest and arms, held defensively in a stunning show of willpower. The Jen'jidai howled his frustration, his rage, and his agony as his body channeled them together and sustained his life.

When the dust settled, Alkor held himself up with a single hand, labored breaths fighting to fill his lungs with air. His eyes never left the ship. "Enemies," he rasped, "will be..."

Alkor fought to his feet, bones creaking in protest against the effort, "put to death."

He gulped greedily at the ashen air and rolled his neck out, drinking in every ounce of pain that his body had to offer.

The first step wavered. The second did not.

Above him, the nearest spire moaned, tired from a long life of standing. The requiem sang by the frigate brought it the peace of sleep, and it began to crumble.

Alkor turned his attention to the massive debris that threatened to crush him. With a soft sigh, the Dark Jedi held out a hand- a sinister, blackened, skeletal hand that almost looked too frail to do anything.

And as it came into contact with the duranium alloy, it scattered to pieces that rained all around Alkor.

"Now I'm angry."

Sept 15, 2015 19:45:35 GMT Bedrovelse Hevn said:
Solomon's assistance came in the moment of most critical need. The spreading soldiers were nearly read to fire inside of his eloquent dance of lightsabers as he gripped the rockets head and crushed it. The explosion plowed through the firing line, annihilating the rocketeer and Togorians standing nearby. The breadth of the blast drew the attention of the firing squad and gave Hevn a moment to raise his lanvarok. Quickly two discs spit out and with the force he guided the spinning saw blades into the throats of the two leftmost attackers as the others were getting to his feet. Hevn takes a page out of the magnaguard's book, and throws himself high flipping with the force into those recovering from the blast. Togorians were immense aliens with very strong muscle and dense bone tissue, a clean kill was the only sure kind with these brutes.

As the two collapses, blood spraying out from their windpipes, Hevn descended. Each of red and white blade found a neck to slice through. Another volley of blaster bolts came from the stairs. He raises his blades to swat the dangerous ones away before turning to finish his dance. His lightsaber whirl on each side of him cutting those on the floor to pieces as he strides through them. A shower of sparks erupted on the other side of the room as Solomon pushed their mutual front into the Reapers. Lightsabers were torn from a magnaguard being held above and plunged into the chest of one each Togorian, growling in anger as they perished. Solomon's work with telekinesis was most honed and impressive.

Ducking behind a control panel the incoming guards focus on Xeonon, except for one.

Togorians were fierce. Stong. Honorable. Among their strengths was certainly not self control, or any true direction of will power that was not related to stubbornness against those beyond their race. It was not difficult to seize the mind of the back most member of the squad, and control him.

Hevn touches a finger to his temple, seeking the Togorian specifically. Normally his choice would be the most volatile and weak member of the squad. In this case it was a strategic choice. Hevn tunes himself in to the animal instinct and raw fury, and rides it behind the mind of the beast man.

The Togorian tried to fight the attack on his will off as soon as his blaster rifle rose, and his eye trained through the scope upon the napes of his fellow soldiers. His finger twitches in pain and resistance before squeezing the trigger down with all his might. Through the Togorian's eyes Hevn mowed the other seven down. Shots to the back of the spine for each and every soldier in front of him. A crippling terror seized the Togorian responsible that Hevn took further action on, feasting on their dark energies. He pulls the nose of the blaster to his mouth and fires, snapping Hevn to his senses once more as the manipulated soldiers collapses dead. Brains painting the inside of his helmet.

His eyes found Kali having descended the shaft in absolutely badass fashion and making mince meat of soldiers three times her height, weight, and combat experience. Her ferocity elevated her into something of a juggernaut as she began to pick them apart. The force was a storm around them all, but hers the loudest and angriest. She was channeling survival instinct and the pangs of fear that attacked her. Solomon and Hevn wielded their strength with authority and confidence. As she pulled her blades free and wiped them clean, he could see the blood painting her face. Her ritual ascent into a warrior's world. Meeting her gaze, Hevn grins. For once in honest and complete satisfaction.

The Reapers piled in faster. Taking cover and trying to get eyes on their enemies. They were trying to position in protection of the elevator. It mattered little to Hevn, as it seemed they would all need to die for them to get access to that mass driver. Encircling himself in the force, he rose to join the fray once more. Hevn continues to revel in the fear and anger of the man he possessed, the emotions of the other quickly fading from his essence for use.

As Solomon rolls forward to avoid the falling droid, Hevn seizes it in midair, a meter before striking the ground. Hevn holds an extended fist toward it as he charges all of his foremost energy into its metal skeleton via the force. As it starts to glow he hurls it behind the front desk of the lobby.

Force combustion was a difficult ability to use. One Hevn had not used in some time, that caused a normally mundane object to be overcharged and explode much like the potential energy of explosives release. The magnaguard in its entirety had become dangerously energized and erupted into fire and metal debris as soon as it was released from Hevn's grip in the force.

The Togorians who were not immediately incinerated or murdered otherwise crawled out from their broken cover with piece of the droid's legs impaling them. They reached for their own grenades to throw with a last effort, but Hevn would not allow it. His eyes hone in on the break in their visors. The pain welling up in them as they bled out and suffered helped Hevn focus. Raising his wrist blaster he pummels the crawling cats with a flurry of bolts to finish them. The slam of feet on the stairwells was growing louder.

Hevn's force use had distracted him from a squad of four flanking him. With the magnaguards laid to ruin the two forces that had arrived were intermingling and organizing. Growling and shouting in their home language. It was the word "fire" he recognized spitting from a Togorian Reaper's mouth that drew his attention. They rounded the pillar in attack wasting no time lighting Hevn up.

A grenade skips across toward his foot, that he kicks aside. There was no time to watch it as the rifles came blazing at his face from out of their cover. They were too close to block with his lightsabers and so he hurled them both into the heap of tigers firing at him, letting his armor and sith mask eat all too much damage.

The Togorians had not expected his reckless maneuver. Two were cut down by hurled lightsabers as the other two stepped in range of the grenade alongside Hevn. It went off with a thump and cloud of smoke as all three hit the floor. The Togorians were dead. Hevn hacked as blood and smoke poured out of his mouth.

Shrapnel had punched so hard into his mask that it cracked and fell off. His exposed face had shards of metal lodged into his quadranium cortosis weave skull. They could not punch through, but they still hurt like hell. Blood races down from wounds on his forehead, underneath his right eye, and a hole in his right cheek. From the face wounds his metal exoskeleton could be seen, an armor right beneath his skin. The rest of his armor had eaten the explosion. A few charred spaces between Hevn's heavy plating and cuts from debris could be seen revealing a tone almost the same as that of his armored plates. A grey covered by bloody red as it oxidizes.

Wearing the heavy armor had been more than a blessing thus far, keeping him alive and in one piece for now. Hevn certainly wasn't sure how much more punishment it could take, or when it would come time to depend on his finesse rather than brutality as the other two were already employing.

Hevn is the only thing to emerge from the murk, putting his back to the pillar they rounded him from. He uses the force to rip a piece of metal out of his mouth where it had shot through the cheek. Blood stains his grey lips and steely chin. He calls his lightsaber from where it was lying on the wall back to his hand. He glances at his destroyed krayt mask with a combination of contempt and pain. Hevn sinks his fake teeth into the spot on his cheek where he was struck. It bleeds more fiercely as a growl from the back of his throat begins to thrum with the sound of his own fuming rage and strain of his cybernetics. The dark side comes sweeping to his call in the force, preparing for the next assault.