Log:Coruscant Fires: Vhe vs. Sebek
Sebek, bested by Elrych seeks to find the best way to hurt him. Vhe runs into him amidst the fires of Coruscant.
OOC Date: December 16, 2020
Location: Coruscant
Participants: Jedi Order: Vhe Tenara vs Knights of Ren: Sebek
The heavy oppressive air of the underworld of Coruscant hangs thick like a third skin over the denizens that walk its corridors. Exhaust and foul steam filter up and mixed with the blazing fire it leaves the air tainted with acrid after taste and scent. Shadows are thrown at odd angles and every turn feels like one is backtracking over a place once tread already in the broken maze of metal and man made architecture.
A hiss and rise follows the path of a cloaked figure that hugs the shadows, using them as friends to envelop the silhouette in welcoming arms. What comes through the quickened movements is an exchange, short, simple and then parting ways. Nothing is forever here save for the years of oppressive growth that shields the lower level from true sunlight and air.
Fingers curl at the edge of her hood as tendrils of hair fall free to hang against the neutral brown that has more color than most of the rest of her surroundings. A brief flash of teal is seen as she moves her head before beginning to backtrack herself across the debris strewn grimy ground, boots giving just enough purchase not to slip. Ducking as she passes beneath the ancient remnants of scaffolding that was never reclaimed and the construction never finished she ignores the questionable liquid that patters down upon her from its edges. It creaks and strains as if a vocal reminder of its presence is needed in these long forgotten and oft overlooked portions of the great city of Coruscant.
The soft crunch-splash of her boot resounds off the walls around her and a distant brawl breaks out as the backlit shadows of the confrontation lay outlined against the wall beside her. A single glance and she looks ahead, most of her face covered save for the lower half of her face as she breathes in the air that causes her nose to sting and her tongue to brush against the roof of her mouth. She can taste Coruscant on the air and now begin to feel it in her lungs. She burns with the city itself. She can feel it not only in the air or hear it on the stale breeze moved only by the hiss of exhausts but through the Force as it echoes forebodingly.
She slows as her eyes begin to scan a little more fervently for something that just feels ...off... Her pulse starts to pick up as she glances back behind her.
What came next was doom.
Coruscant creaked and groaned and whined under the force of its own gluttony. Fire is cleansing, purifying, but there was only so much it can do. And when it frames one who has since fallen off the deep end, with anger in his soul and fury in his heart, well, there is a reason that terror can often be considered a physical force. And as such, upon a wall most distant fore in the path of She Who Dances, a bulbous growth of twisted durasteel suddenly and loudly protruded.
And then the wall exploded.
A former wall, robbed of its solitary nature, was violently flung across the thoroughfare by a power most foul and filthy. Alas, such a change in infrastructure could only improve the slum in which She Who Dances dwelled. From the twisting, yawning maw that had been made strode a figure in a black cloak, with deep red skin, and the eyes. Behold the Eyes of the Darkness! Behold their golden glow of treachery and red outline of rage!
Behold Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts!
"I HAVE COME FOR YOU, INSECT!" roared the Knight of Ren, so steeped in the darkness which he had bound inexorably to his soul. Was it possible to separate man from power? Not for a Jeedai. "I KNOW YOU ARE HERE!" He had not seen She Who Dances, hiding like a ranat in the dark. "THY FLESH CONSUMED!"
The warning of what is to come crawls up her neck and made every hair on end to such an extent her hand can not be kept from lifting up to rub at it. The danger was not from behind her for the wall exploded outwards with such force to stop her before her head even turned. The bellows of the fire ridden lower walks of Coruscant are suddenly given new terror and a new form of combustion in the form of Sebek. Her eyes widen and the quickened heart beat races forward to steal her breath. The breath that burns deep in her chest as she cries out while the last of the debris is expelled by the forceful entrance of he of many names.
Her startled state turns to instinct and the Ysanna witch turns, her foot pivoting in the decaying remnants of the Coruscant's finery, putrid and viscous, it causes her to slip for a second as boots scrabble for purchase before enough is wiped clean of the man made ground. Her hand rushes downwards to grip at a metal rod to help propel her forward.
SLAP
SQUISH
THUNK
The chorus of her flight is a beacon in the hissing under-dark with its myriad of sounds to play backup. Vhe does not look back and what was in her other palm is quickly stashed in a pouch as she begins to weave her way back to that scaffolding. Her arms pump, fueled by adrenaline as she throws herself through her air and upwards, her hand grasping hard to the failing structure before dragging herself up. She begins the climb, hood falling back as she leaves wet slimy footprints in her wake.
"Behold the scurrying frame of She Who Dances!" erupted the very very angry frame of He Who Hunts, having turned and spotted his prey. "I have come for you, worm!"
There was no attempt at subtlety. No mind games. No cups of tea in the burning wreckage. Sebek had long since snapped, and when he had promised The Cometburn that he would hurt him he was not fracking around.
After all, is not the fastest way to a hero through their loved ones?
Thump. That was one slow, heavy footfall that rang louder than theoretically possible in the noise that was Coruscant. Thus was the fury of the fallen Falleen. "Such easy prey! For the Force in its infinite meekness has granted me answers beyond mortal ken!" Thump. For he was so confident she would not escape, why would Sebek need to move fast? Thump. "I speaketh into its form for The Cometburn and it returns /two/! Thus the weaker is clearly She Who Dances!"
The insults thrown her way do not rankle like the acrid taint of the air nor does it outdo the thunderous beating of her heart. Cometburn. Her attention breaks and she makes the mistake of looking back in the growing heat that clings to her the higher she climbs. A failing that leads to her falling. The grime left on her hand that helped her initial flight does not take the weight or the pole as well as she would like. Fingers slip and Vhe feels the world spin and give out behind her like a gaping maw. Struggling to keep her wits instinct saves her again but not before she slams her hip into the second tier of scaffolding and tumbles over the side.
The rough steel is unforgiving as her hand takes hold of it and stops her downward descent and meeting with the ground. She grits her teeth, straining as she gets the other hand up and then rolls herself onto the level below where she had been. Laying on her stomach, wayward strands of hair falling into her face she stares down at the ominous approach of a rather unhinged falleen.
The loose portions of architecture of the unfinished establishment are noted. Their decrepit state lends itself well and with a grunt she draws upon the Force as it extends through her as a natural part of her and she pulls, the creak and loud CRACK of the duracrete splintering as she throws a good portion of the side of the building towards his path, possibly him as the scaffolding wobbles. Sliding a foot beneath her she starts to rise and continues her ascent to the rooftops of a forgotten layer, likes rings of a tree, Coruscant continues to grow upon itself.
The duracrete hit an invisible spring about half-way between its origin point and the mad Falleen. It bent, slowed, stopped, and then with a violent-sounding FWING it was ejected back to the way it came, causing untold amounts of property damage to the Coruscanti underlevels that honestly had copped quite enough of it lately.
"Run and run and run and run and you will always find your hunter staring into your soul! Such is the Tale of Khartem Thousand-Hand." Speaking of running, yes, Sebek would likely have to start running. Unless he cut her off. Gripping the Force in his iron leash, he empowered his legs, forced his fury downwards and... did a tiny little bunny hop.
Sebek swore he heard the Force giggling at him.
A cry of sheer anger erupted from the Falleen as every surrounding object that could be crushed promptly was, as he lashed out in a tantrum of his own making. Rubble exploded, water bottles burst, walls creaked, superstructure groaned. "STARING INTO YOUR SOUL, SHE WHO DANCES!"
If there was terror greater than what she felt in that very moment when he cried out after her, Vhe could not begin to fathom it. The fear like fire crawling up the skin ready to consume a person. Inevitable. She has the will to survive and breathe another day. "You would not dare to look upon my soul lest you see the darkness that consumes your own, rotting you from within!" Finally she has a voice and it is only because one foot finds the half finished roof of the building that belongs to the scaffolding that remains rocking for a moment after she gains her ground.
Her head turns as the rush of her breath and the pace of her heart in her ears inspires the shake of her hand. Her eyes focus on the scaffolding while she tucks her chin. Coruscant may be burning the galaxy itself was beginning to catch fire as well and Vhe's conviction takes a moment to fulfill her wishes.
RATTLE. Clank. Shudder.
CreeeaaaaaaaK!
The scaffolding has the moment of gravity suspended upon its slow downward trend as its top tips further away from the building under the influence of the Jedi from her perch. A gust of putrid steam rushes up from below and stirs the hot seething air above, stirring her robes and her hair.
She waits. She watches.
Fire and fury. They went well together.
Ordinarily the petulant tantrum of a toddler not getting his way is inept once they're relatively out of reach, which can be as easy as putting some distance. But, the screaming warrior here was unfortunately buoyed by the power of his own mind shattering into a million pieces, churned through the filter of a power so steeped in evil that had stained him so totally there would never ever be any going back. An almighty idiot with one central directive.
Kill She Who Dances.
As the scaffolding came down, Sebek screamed.
That god-awful, horrible scream from the Falleen with his jaw unhinged, his reptilian tongue lashing, and his gold-in-red eyes wide was louder than everything else in the undercity. It carried with it sheer, concussive force, tearing apart the scaffolding piece by piece and causing it to rain shrapnel all around the untouched darksider. It was the bellow from /something/ in the depths of hell.
When the screaming finished and the rain of masonry and metal ended, Sebek was gone. Footprints in the dust and dirt and mud showed him moving towards the building and then... gone.
He's in the building.
As the well of anger given life through his roar hits her from below, a shiver runs up her spine. Vhe feels her knees give a little as the shredding of the scaffolding causing her to lift her hands as not far below her the decimated pieces ping and hit, one or two even making the roof. Her breath stills, the debris and dust begins to dissipate and she stares down...down at an empty space with no sign of life and the feeling of something worse to come spreads over her limbs. MOVE VHE! MOVE!
Her mind screams at her. The half finished building has little in the way of allowance for movement but the woman throws herself at the skeletal structure to try to bring her closer to the next roof that lies ahead, positioned lower and a short distance from its neighbor that never was crowned fully.
Her breath is audible as the Ysanna gets her footing and she throws herself across the beam and the last step slides, not giving her enough momentum.
The Force rushes through her and as Vhe hurdles in the air bolstered by the unseen power, slams her into the side of the building. Her arms squeeze down upon the ridge of the next building's roof before she manages pull herself up slowly. She kneels upon the building as she tries to fill her lungs with air, hiccupping as they burn deeply before finally she manages an audible, painful sounding breath. She sways on her feet as she rises to them and starts to try to pick her way across the caving roof, avoiding as many weak spots as she can.
It was hard to tell what noises were the building and what were a certain interloper with a bit of a temper and a massive thing for eating people. The fact remained clear, Sebek of the Desert was in the building. It's a shame that She Who Dances wasn't. The view across the gap was slient, a pregnant pause of complete nothing as there was no immediate pursuit.
Until suddenly there was a fwip of black fabric and there, on the roof with She Who Dances, was Sebek of the Desert. His face was twisted into a scowl, gold-in-red eyes in narrowed slits, and his skin a fetching sort of burnt orange.
snap-hiss
You are not alone Vhe. The feelling rushes up her spine and whips her around just as soon as she hears Sebek's motions, his movements telegraphing how close he is. It does not prepare her for what is suddenly before her, sharing the other side of the roof as she nears the opposite. She lowers, instinct continuing to guide her as she assumes a ready stance as her eyes follow the appearance of the menacing red blade, painting their desolate surroundings with plain and visible aggression.
She is quiet. Utterly silent as she hears the panting of her breath from the loss of it moments ago.
It is time, Vhe.
Her hand disappears and from behind her, where he can not see the existence of her saber. Cyan light spears the darkness in contrast to its kin across the roof.
She breathes in, trying to settle the adrenaline and fear that Sebek had inspired. "I do not wish to fight you. Harming you will mean nothing."
Its a last attempt at non-violence that is made. Her wrist aches as the memory of her last encounter comes to the forefront of her mind. She reaches out with her left hand towards him. The Force answers her with focus and precision as the sagging roof beneath him begins to bulge and lift, before it gives way beneath him, drawn down by her direction as her movements drawn her towards him, picking her foot placement before he can gain the upper hand, the cloak flaring out behind her.
"I do not wish to fight you either," was the quiet oozing of Sebek's voice, dripping with venom and hatred. Tei Tenga, the long-handled weapon of the Falleen with the flanged pommel shaped like a smaller version of a crushing instrument. It had brought great pain to She Who Dances in the past. It would do so again.
"I wish to kill you."
The Falleen lashed out like a coiled snake, springing into action with a sharp thrust followed by a couple of weaving, almost lazy swings. During this, he took one singular step forward. It was not the Ataru with which he was talented. It was sheer advancing wall.
The caving in of the roof does nothing to stop the force of his dark presence moving closer towards her. Her eyes lift, her body turning about as she twists about. The heat of his saber comes too close, feeling it at the back of her neck mid strike in return as it cleaves through the rise and flare of the fabric wrapped about her form. As the cloak is singed a section of it flares to life as the flame licks away with hunger.
Vhe's third strike falls without hitting him as her hand shoves the cloak off as her foot then slides back where the roof dips into a hole. The cloak flutters and ripples as it drops to the roof still burning.
Head lifting to stare him down her sharp gaze meets his. "Your anger controls you....I know the feeling of its power. Release it and back down." She advises as she takes a step back to center her stance.
"You are fat."
Wow.
"Fat in righteousness. Fat in arrogance." Tei Tenga swirled and screamed in hunger, deflecting strikes and batting away the swinging cyan blade. One strike came in too close to his raiment and clipped a buckle, severing it and rendering it loose. A howl of irritation emerged from the Falleen who gripped the loose end and PULLED, snapping the remainder of the buckles and causing it to fall to the ground. Not, alas, flinging it into the fire in a dramatic display because now his arm hurt from the exertion. This left him in his elegant and eloquent battle cassock, the upper half now free to showcase that it was a full garment, and not just a hip cloak poking out from underneath armour.
It also showed three holes and three wounds underneath. The marks of The Cometburn.
The next strikes were quick and simple, with yet another THUMP forward from a single footfall. On the third, he feinted, reversed, and hit She Who Dances right in the gut with the pommel of his weapon. Maybe he should have taken the advice of She Who Ignites and put a spike there instead. "Weak. Insolent. Good only for meat. Bow down and die."
Rent and ruined vestments thrown aside, the two have more motion, more freedom as they are far more given to the task at hand. His comment gets no reaction from the Ysanna as she sweeps her blade back. His first strike is turned aside, met by her blade with a plaintive hissing screech. She twists her blade aside and sweeps back in with a forward motion and twist of her hip.
It brings her too close and allows him the opening that ends the end of his hilt right into her stomach. She mmmmphs aloud and skids back a step, bending forward from the impact that sours her stomach. "You do not like what I have to say and are blind to it, but that matters not. Truth even if you are stronger than I am will always finds its way. I will not."
Vhe lets out a breath as her saber sweeps forward to carry them through the next flurry of blows.
The Falleen's eyes were wide and his mouth wider. No mouth should ever smile that wide. One more step forward. The pair of them were approaching the edge of the building, now. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
Sebek was deflecting strikes almost lazily now. So confident in his poise that he was doing it one handed. How does one stop an advancing wall. "Your words are mewling on the wind, impotent in the face of power." Block. Block. SWING. SWING. Those were two very heavy strikes, but the third one missed. Probably because Sebek was paying too much attention to the taunting and not the fighting.
It helps when you're so far steeped in darkness that a Jeedai would have a better chance of redeeming Malik Ren.
"Find your way quickly, whelp." The thump of another advancing footfall. "Your time runs out."
"It is mewling for you can not hear, you have made yourself deaf with your power," Vhe counters, feeling her footing falter for a second while she is on the back step, her swing is thrown wide and in that breadth she watches as the saber comes in and lands heavily across her left shoulder and down across her chest. The smell of both cloth and flesh filling the air as her cry comes down to gritted teeth and eyes focusing forward in pain.
The next of her strikes is brushed aside, glancing off the red blade with a sparking flash and her foot slides in the moments as his retaliation rains down upon her. The force of the blow taken at her right side, spinning her about and causing her to stumble in and nearly spill to the ground before she recovers. Her eyes lift as she holds her saber up defensively positioned at the end of the roof and backlit by the raging fires of Coruscant.
Labored breathing continues as she braces her stance with a taxing shudder all the while the pain from her wounds continues to sap her strength and focus.
Behold the edge of the building, below the fires and doom that were now licking furiously at the combatants. Behold the victorious form of Sebek of the Desert, conqueror of She Who Dances. The damage was done. It was now merely theatrics.
The last strike of She Who Dances went past Sebek and he /smiled/. He flipped Tei Tenga into a reverse grip, pushed away the cyan beam of death, and promptly got up nice and close into her personal space. With barely two inches separating their faces, his voice oozed with one statement. "It is thus."
BAM.
The Falleen's palm of his free hand jammed HARD into She Who Dances' right elbow, pushing it the wrong way with a satisfying (to him) pop. Quickly and efficiently the same hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting and taking a step to dangle Vhe Tenara, She Who Dances, over the drop into fiery doom. "You have failed. Completely and utterly. The Cometburn shall know what happened here today, and he shall weep for the fall of his love. That is the message I send to him."
And then he let go.
She overextended and the moment she realizes is a moment too late. Her arm is caught and she is brought in far too close to comfort to a predator. A predator who's aim is to end her and the sense of dread and finality slips across her mortal soul. His words still her for the sudden pop and shift of her elbow out of place.
She screams, tears springing to her eyes as her legs start to give beneath her. Collapsing towards the ground, the cry of her agony is cut short and mangled into a gurgling desperate resonance as her one functional hand lifts to claw at his unyielding hand. Scratching at him feebly, losing strength with each passing moment. Her chin forced to an extreme she stares down at him as her legs kick and she feels the heat of the fires below.
She wanted to be free of him and behold, she is set free.
Vhe flies. She soars...the hot polluted air rushing up around her. Panic. Fear. Acceptance. The Jedi plummets disappearing into the fires below.
Sebek has sought his revenge and won it. Behind him on the roof? A brass saber with its kirruk tooth attached upon a leather cording at its end. The blade still flickering in its soft whispering hum.
Standing with his cassock fluttering against the winds of elevation was Sebek of the Desert, his skin slowly returning to the natural deep green of contentment. His eyes narrowed as the Lover of Cometburn disappeared into the fire. Dead. Doomed. It didn't matter. It was all about a message.
The Falleen had made a threat. And now he had delivered on it.
In silence he turned and regarded the brass tube on the roof. His head turned slowly to one side in curiosity, and he leaned down and picked it up. The weapon of a Jeedai. The weapon of a hunter, judging from the tooth. No matter, the hunter had become prey to a far stronger predator. And is that not the life of He Who Hunts? For what is his purpose if not to hunt the strongest prey?
The kyber in his hand screamed and protested as it felt the dark touch of Sebek's mind, and rather than fighting and bending and bleeding its very soul, he deactivated the humming blade. Then he stood, adjusted the collar of his cassock around his neck, and walked back into the darkness of the building.
