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Post by An tSúil on Mar 2, 2016 2:09:28 GMT -8
*An tSúil, a shape-shiftier extraordinaire, looking forward to a long illustrious with the Iron Fists sits in the form of a raven watching as An Tiarna greases his long time companion without so much as the blink of an eye. Disconcerting to say the least. Not quite as disconcerting as the realization that she may have to chisel out breakfast from what this gang of disgusting animals chuck to the ground as trash but unsettling nonetheless. Staring mesmerized at the body her feathers trembled*
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An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841 
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 2:17:04 GMT -8
*Slipping gun from side An Tiarna stretched out right hand looking down his arm at An tSúil pumping off two shots. Arm dropping he watched*
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Post by An tSúil on Mar 2, 2016 2:24:58 GMT -8
*Still perched on a rail running along the outskirts of the Mortus An tSúil was hit by a .303 caliber slug. Feathers flying she metamorphosized instantly into her essential self, a beautiful young woman collapsed to the ground with a nauseating thud. The disparity between what was vibrant but seconds ago and what now lie lifeless on the ground was repulsive. The group of Selkath delegates heading towards the Mortus stopped dead in their tracks. Sizing up the scene they watched*
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An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 3:13:41 GMT -8
*As yet another body hit the ground the Old Man taking a bottle downed a shot pulling a cigarette from an open pack on the table and lighting it he looked across the ocean*
'Well that's that...."
*Turning to Mórrígan*
'You know dear, never fails to amuse me how loud the squeals in protest are from those who vehemently protest my ridiculous demeanor, the very instant that I become serious.'
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Mórrígan Dubh
Member
Posts: 680 
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 3:37:43 GMT -8
*Brows rising and deeply sighing. Wasn't so much the speech itself so much as how many times she'd heard it said through her life and yet with the trail of blood, tears and savagery that followed it still mystified her how it seemed to pass by so many others ears. She liked Collins - considerably. The Old Man was Twisted indeed. Grabbing a cigarette she lit it taking a pull. It crossed her mind that it truly felt like they were set to depart this realm. Looking at the Old Man an old adage crossed her mind: Leave sleeping dogs lie they say. Brows dropping she wondered why so many wanted to rile up an old staffordshire terrier. Taking another pull from the cigarette she thought on that point a long moment.
As she sat caught up in her thinking several Togs started to collect the bodies. In a commanding voice Mórrígan chanted eerily*
-Mórrígan-
Creidim i nDia, an tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
Cruthaitheoir Nimhe agus Talún,
agus i nÍosa Criost a Aonmhac san ár dTiarna,
do gabhadh ón Spriod Naomh,
do rugadh ó Mhuire ógh,
d'fhulaig páis fé Phointeas Píolóid,
do céasadh ar an gcrois,
fuair bás agus d'adhlacadh,
chuaigh síos go hifreann,
d'aiséirigh an treas lá ó mhairbhe,
chuaigh suas ar neamh,
tá ina shuí ar dheasláimh Dé en tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
as san tiocfaidh ag tabhairt bhreithiúntais ar bheo is ar mhairbh.
Creidim sa Spriod Naomh,
sa naomh-Eaglais Chaitliceach,
i gComaoine na Naomh,
i Maithiúnachas na bPeacaí,
i nAiséirí na Colla,
is sa Bheatha Shíoraí.
Amen.
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
Member
Pog mo thoin
Posts: 416
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 19:26:09 GMT -8
*Nerves were on edge to say the least. Bodies were dropping like flies, which was nothing out of the norm. The IF needing to wack a few of their own was not exactly extraordinary either. Collins dropping was a big deal. The name was synonymous with the IF for many a year, alibi it not as celebrated as many at the forefront. The girls were witnessing an unfortunate reality of an organization of kind. It was arresting to say the least. Shakk was not her usual cocky self now sitting with an eye on all. looking at none. As Mórrígan spoke Shakk joined in mimicking the eerie chant*
-Shakk-
Creidim i nDia, an tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
Cruthaitheoir Nimhe agus Talún,
agus i nÍosa Criost a Aonmhac san ár dTiarna,
do gabhadh ón Spriod Naomh,
do rugadh ó Mhuire ógh,
d'fhulaig páis fé Phointeas Píolóid,
do céasadh ar an gcrois,
fuair bás agus d'adhlacadh,
chuaigh síos go hifreann,
d'aiséirigh an treas lá ó mhairbhe,
chuaigh suas ar neamh,
tá ina shuí ar dheasláimh Dé en tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
as san tiocfaidh ag tabhairt bhreithiúntais ar bheo is ar mhairbh.
Creidim sa Spriod Naomh,
sa naomh-Eaglais Chaitliceach,
i gComaoine na Naomh,
i Maithiúnachas na bPeacaí,
i nAiséirí na Colla,
is sa Bheatha Shíoraí.
Amen.
*Gid toyed nervously with her gun as Alem looked at the ground. She to found herself joining in the chant, a prayer she thought, aptly said after the bodies dropped*
-Alem-
Creidim i nDia, an tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
Cruthaitheoir Nimhe agus Talún,
agus i nÍosa Criost a Aonmhac san ár dTiarna,
do gabhadh ón Spriod Naomh,
do rugadh ó Mhuire ógh,
d'fhulaig páis fé Phointeas Píolóid,
do céasadh ar an gcrois,
fuair bás agus d'adhlacadh,
chuaigh síos go hifreann,
d'aiséirigh an treas lá ó mhairbhe,
chuaigh suas ar neamh,
tá ina shuí ar dheasláimh Dé en tAthair Uilechumhachtach,
as san tiocfaidh ag tabhairt bhreithiúntais ar bheo is ar mhairbh.
Creidim sa Spriod Naomh,
sa naomh-Eaglais Chaitliceach,
i gComaoine na Naomh,
i Maithiúnachas na bPeacaí,
i nAiséirí na Colla,
is sa Bheatha Shíoraí.
Amen. |
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zabrak Twin Dubh
Member
Posts: 40
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by zabrak Twin Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 19:32:57 GMT -8
*Bez sat mouth open with Doz chin down eyes on the Old Man. The party was over as the curtain to a window of reality was thrown open. Yet things had a way of taking queer turns in the human mind. Doz was struck by a sudden pity for the Old Man. Her brows dropped as she tried to reconcile the feeling with an image*
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Post by Twin Togruta Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 20:06:40 GMT -8
*Rhiannon Aranrhod too watched wide eyed as the killing hit up close and personal. Both reacted with a symmetry that would make one think them joined at the hip and in a queer roll of two tongues as one these words fell effortlessly from mouths*
-Togruta Twins-
“Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!!!!!"
*It is said that small in the moment acts oft define history. This simple display of loyalty was an example that would prove to support that belief.....*
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Post by Twin Togruta Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 20:35:46 GMT -8
*The girls on edge watched close*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 20:39:24 GMT -8
Ciarán & Laoch watched as the Old Man put a bullet through Collins head. Ciarán cautious and cold despite his hot temper was not so moved by the shootings. Loach too having no binding connection with Collins blew the incident off. That said both were on toes waiting for the the next swing. Strangely the words from the Togruta sisters struck a cord in Ciarán, fist shooting up shooting*
- Ciarán-
“Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!!!!!!”
*Loachslightly delayed reacted the same*
-Loach-
“Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!!!!!!”
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
Member
Pog mo thoin
Posts: 416
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 20:48:24 GMT -8
"*Shack sprung back to her former self sweeping any uncertainty and confusion away hand to the air screaming*
-Shakk-
"Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!!!!!!”
*A group intoxication swept over Gib and Alem howling in unison saluting high*
-Gib and Alem-
"Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!!!!!!”
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Epona Dubh
Member
Posts: 73
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Epona Dubh on Mar 2, 2016 20:59:38 GMT -8
*Epona bucking up on back hoofs in a display of power eyes alight screamed teeth baring*
"Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!”
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
Member
Fag an Bealach
Posts: 203
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Mar 2, 2016 21:43:42 GMT -8
*A cry rose up in the background from a 50 strong unit of Togorian Commando in balaclava*
"Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!”
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Anishinaabe First Nation
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Posts: 14
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Anishinaabe First Nation on Mar 2, 2016 21:59:42 GMT -8
*To the sound of restless horses hoofs clicking quite sporadically and snorts from nostrils in the backdrop a cry rose up over the Manaan beach from the 3500 strong Anishinaabe First Nation could be heard*
"Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna!”
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An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Mar 3, 2016 6:57:41 GMT -8
*With a slick smile*
"Today's question, framed like a Newfie joke... how many pages does it take the mighty Uni in order to create spontaneity? Keep trying to picture sitting down with lawyers to chisel out how we're about to have a riot. Good luck at that but not mo chaired. In the morrow I start killing."
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Gaiscioch Dearg
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 107
Affiliation: New Order of the Eye - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gaiscioch Dearg on Aug 10, 2017 18:48:48 GMT -8
{Slightly outside the Mortus}
Will that be all My Lord?
Gaiscioch Dearg waved away the man speaking to him, a gesture that the waiter heeded without the need of words. Dearg appreciated that, he was in a sullen mood today and did not feel the need to have to spell out every desire and order. He raised the glass to his lips and drank deep, the alcohol burning his throat, and continued to stare out across Manaan's vast ocean. Dearg had long since lost count of how long he had been staying on the planet, he had never bothered to leave after his former Master's return and retreat from the known galaxy. An Tiarna Dubh had done what he always had; shown up from the shadows, sown discord and chaos on a galactic scale, and vanished just as suddenly. This was something the hulking warlord generally approved of, but this time he had lost out on more than he had gained. Dearg had abandoned Onderon too soon at word of his Master's return. He had left too soon. He had barely sat his ass on the throne when he had left and had had no time to build up an army, navy, or even a base of power. Now Onderon was lost once again, its people quick to worship anyone that was not a Sith. Now he was here on a planet run by no one with one Star Destroyer to his name. A good, customized ship to be sure, but it was outdated and singular in number. He was a conquerer with no army and it both enraged and depressed him beyond belief.
If only his once comrades could see him now. Adi, Iniquitous, Arhiia, An Tiarna,Bacca, Mortale, even Dragus. The "proud warmonger" spending his days drinking on Manaan, sulking internally. He felt as if he were the butt of a joke. During the "old days" Dearg would talk of little else but being on the front line of battle. The Warriors of the Iron Fists, the New Order of the Eye, and L'Angele Noir all kept him around because of it. They all had use for the warrior that charged into any battle headlong. Now he sat and he drank. Maybe that was why he had decided to stay on Manaan. The Warriors were well known drunks and so the locals were well accustomed to various Dark Jedi, and Sith drinking, fighting, and passing out. He stayed on Manaan to hide his shame. To the people of Manaan, both local and imported, this was just another day and Gaiscioch Dearg could drink himself to oblivion without being pointed out. He finished his drink and signalled for another. He almost wished he could get drunk. It was a wasteful thing to become inebriated and his surgical enhancements from his childhood prevented it, but still.. he believed it would actually help in this situation.
Your drink My Lord, and forgive me, but a datapad was sent for you from the military base. I said I would deliver it.
Dearg took both items without a word and turned away, not acknowledging the server take her leave. He drank slowly as he scrolled through the reports. His ship was still running at one hundred percent and fresh soldiers were being rotated through its crew. The council also sent reports of the few wrongdoings on the world. Theirs was always a short report, seeing as crime was always low on Manaan. He still wasn't used to that; a planet that policed itself totally and had one of the lowest crime rates in the kriffing galaxy. He continued through the reports and lists at a leisurely pace. He may be a has been Sith in his mind, but old habits died hard and he would not let the planet run itself or go unprotected. No one commanded a planet quite like a Sith Lord in charge. Besides it kept him busy. A small purpose, a spark of his old self still burning inside of him. Old habits did die hard after all and the Red Warrior, the Angel of Destruction, the Emperor of Onderon, was a hard demon to kill. Even by himself. Dearg did not know it, but his time was not up, his life was not spent, and his conquests were far from over. All it would take was one day, one report, one gust of flame to transform that spark into an inferno. Gaiscioch Dearg would rise again and the galaxy would tremble once more...
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Aug 10, 2017 20:03:40 GMT -8
Within the darkness a familiar yet all to strange presence could be felt, if one was to concentrate hard enough, squint just so, and blink rapidly. The feeling akin to dust in ones eye. A swirl of grave cold, a dark gray smoke, a quite almost in audible pop....And across the table from Dearg a large being, draped head to toe in black, dark purple light shining where his eyes were. The cold drifted in waves, carrying a sinister shudder.
"why the long face Dearg? You look.....emo...."
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Gaiscioch Dearg
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 107
Affiliation: New Order of the Eye - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gaiscioch Dearg on Aug 10, 2017 21:11:06 GMT -8
Speaking of sparks. Gaiscioch Dearg had been too busy within his own mind to properly prepare himself for the appearance of someone else, and was definitely caught of guard. He got himself together quickly however, controlling his body to not show too much shock. A twitch of his right hand, and small jump in his head. It was more than he should have shown though and he cursed himself and the alcohol both. The figure quite literally popped into existence in front of him and the Lone Warrior of Manaan quickly started to assess him. The man was almost his size, clothed in black and clearly paid well for the items. He would not be so out of place except for a few things. For one his eyes seemed to actually glow, a creepy yet mesmerizing purple. Another thing was the fact that he showed up here of all places and spoke his name. Not many people still knew Gaiscioch Dearg, fewer called him by such a familiar tone, and even fewer still would visit the Mortus. What concerned him the most however was the man's aura. It swept across him both sudden and violently, mixing with his own and chilling the area down considerably more. Out of the corner of his eye Dearg spied a few of the locals and workers shudder and stare up at the sun curiously.
Well now.. I suppose one could justifiably call me emotional. A man drinking at this time of day usually is.
He was stalling and his unexpected guest likely knew it. But Dearg could not pierce the mans incredible presence. He felt as if he should know the man, but something was.... off. The problem was Gaiscioch Dearg had no idea what the actual problem was. Was his memory failing him? Was there a piece of himself lost during one of his many resurrections? Could this stranger have gone through cosmetic surgery or acquired a new body altogether? His mind was racing as fast as it could, and as always when trying to recall pieces of his past bodies his head was starting to hurt. He resisted putting a large hand to cover his eyes and instead turned the pain into power. The Force filled him and he felt it rush through him and cleared is mind somewhat. Things started to become more clear and he looked at the man with fresh eyes. Almost as if a fog started to life Dearg started to put two and two together. He remembered the mans features, they were not quite proper but close enough, his tone and the way he carried himself. Dearg's mine flashed in his head. A man welcoming him as a brother, a man standing beside him in battle, a man's cold blades cutting into him and ripping his blood out. A man with a lopsided apologetic grin after the pain of resurrection. Dearg honestly didn't know if he should attack or smile. Instead he called the server over for a fresh round for the table.
You've certainly gone through some changes yourself.
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Aug 11, 2017 18:34:06 GMT -8
He grinned. He watched the emotion, the confusion, the sudden rush of the Force, and then the dawning of understanding cross the mans face. It took those closest to him a little while to figure it out. But they usually did.....Eventually. He leaned back, a smirk and a raised eyebrow crossing his features. He spread his hands in front of him, indicating his "clothing", and spoke.
"You could say that. I've been gone for.....a while now. Time is disjointed and out of phase for me. What has you all glum? The man I knew would be out stabbing things in the face right now...."
His voice was deeper, yet more hollow than The Before Time. It echoed weirdly.
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Gaiscioch Dearg
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 107
Affiliation: New Order of the Eye - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gaiscioch Dearg on Aug 13, 2017 20:12:43 GMT -8
The hulking Sith Lord sipped his drink and pondered those words aloud.
"Time is disjointed and out of phase." You're lucky you're talking to a man who knows of strange happenings even others like us would call impossible. You sound insane, but I suppose if I can come back to life so many times you can be a time traveller.
Dearg was sure it was much more complicated than that, but he couldn't help taking a small jab at an old friend. Every instinct of his, born from years of betrayal and murder, screamed at him to devise a way to kill this intruder. Have a bartender poison a drink, launch the table at him and draw his lightsaber, summon the vibroaxe leaning against a nearby wall, draw upon even more of the Force and blast or crush the life out of him. He fought it. Plans formulated, he couldn't help it, but he let them stay as ideas only and prepared nothing. At least not yet. Iniquitous, or what was once Iniquitous he supposed, was a friend. Even more than that he was family. At least he was these things at one point. Gaiscioch Dearg was a despicable man, not above treachery or launching the first move, but there was a small list of people that were exempt from such things. One of them sat before him. So he stayed his hand.
He drank slowly again, his drinking speed slowing down in the presence of someone that was reminding him of his former self. Dearg did not realize it but Iniquitous' presence alone was drawing him out of his funk.
It's true, I never tired of the stabbing, and thankfully the crowds we ran with always gave us plenty of enemies to practice on. However..
He paused again. His paranoid side rearing its ugly head and demanding he keep his secrets to himself, not to trust someone who literally just appeared out of nowhere. He wrestled with it for a moment before regaining control and continuing.
However I am alone now. I have no superiors, no followers, no equals. I am a military man with no military to participate in. It is.... it is something I am not used to. The Jedi seem to be winning my friend and I find myself alone. I have no practice at working alone. I have no war to fight, so I find myself alone and brooding.
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