A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
*In the loitering area, a silver-blue apparition manifests. Do you know him? Of course I know him. He's me. In the long-practiced habit of the living, unused to being newly-deceased, I walk rather than glide. A tournament's on. They're providing live feeds of the matches, which are all in an Imperial hangar of some sort. Over here, a holo-display of a zabrak I met named Loki, hanging from a tractor beam. Over there, a Gen'dai buried by rubble. Some weird little rat-creature with a bunch of bombs. Whole lot of Mandalorians. I drink it all in, a bit at a time.* "...I don't seem to ever remember there being this much effort being made for spectators before. Pretty nice."
Out of nowhere, a massive puff of pungent, acridly sweet smoke filled the area nearest the food table, and from this cloud, an aging man with his hair in a long, gray, braided ponytail stepped. He was wearing a ragged pair of jeans, a wide headband, and a tshirt that looked like it needed washed a few months ago. From the corner of his mouth hung a half-burned hand-rolled smoke...but it was definitely a...special blend of 'herbs'. Yeah, we will just leave it at that. This was none other than Chronicler Willie, a silent observer of the universe, to watch this spectacle unfold. Of special interest to him was a fighter that had been called a few different names....but among them the 'Gremlin with Grenades and mange' and 'Rabid red Raccoon with Rabies and the force' were among his favorites. He did, after all, love a good toke...
Erm...joke.
First things first though. Removing the smoke from his lips, he offered it to the ethereal being who commented on the accommodations.
"They put out some great grub too, I see. Anyone really doing well? I got caught up in the traffic coming down the Kessel Run. Twelve parsecs my wrinkled ass."
On the various walls of the lounge, there were massive holoscreens....all of them showing fights in various levels of combat. There were Mandalorians galore, several force users, including one called Addison Arcturus, fighting none other than the one Willie had come to see...and kinda root for. However, the woman was giving the little sorta-sentient lizard a run for its fuzzy credits. There was a massive zabrak fighting one of the afore-mentioned Mandalorians. Again, surprisingly enough, the buckethead was giving a helluva fight...along with about every other one in the tournament. Then there was the one calling herself Jolene....
She was a pretty one....and the Chronicler kind of wished he wasn't an eternally-living deity, because he would most definitely have to ask her out. Alas, he was countless millennia in age, probably way above her limit. She and her opponent had a pretty good staredown before finally snapping into action.
There were so many matches right now, though....and he was very...very....VERY....
....Hungry.
He made a beeline for the food table after staring for what seemed to be an eternity at the screens. He filled his plate, grabbed two cans of soda, plopping down on the couch to watch the matches, and enjoy the festivities like only he knew how.
I manifest amidst a roiling cloud of green, my body solidifying within moments. The tattered black fabric of my robes takes a bit longer, and retain a shimmering, ethereal quality despite my best efforts. Ah well, I'll improve with practice I'm sure.
Immediately I notice Ryu. Unsurprising, that. When you're a God in everything but name, few things outside of your own pursuits can hold your interest, but one of those is definitely watching lesser beings struggle for their life. I glance at the nearest display screen, where a naked Gen'Dai is rapidly closing on a fleeing Mandalorian. That old familiar itch is instant- the urge to test my power against poor odds, to see if I have transcended beyond a previously established threshold- but I ignore it for now, and glance away.
My gaze finds Willie, and I shake my head, bemused. One of the strangest things about dying was the realization that the entire universe was guided not by the blind, inexorable laws of science, or by all-knowing, infinitely wise creators of unfathomable depth and patience...but by the Chroniclers.
Whether such knowledge should be funny or terrifying, I haven't decided yet.
I seat myself at the nearest unoccupied table and withdraw a battered deck of cards. Like my clothing they are ghostly, flickering. My forefinger taps a nonsense rhythm as I look between the two men. "Pazaak, anyone?"
Entering from one side of the room, Cato made his entrance, his body doubled over the cane held in his right hand. Wide, circular glasses rested on the crook of his pointed nose, as he peered over them at the other visitors that had gathered here to watch the tournament. Using a crooked finger, he pushed up his glasses and took a seat on a couch next to Willie with a heavy groan. "Damn traffic held me up." His eyes scanned the numerous holoscreens, taking note that one match between Andor and Ardasz had already been finished, while the many other combatants were still busy in their quests of bloodshed, glory and victory. Laying the cane on the ground, Cato reached into the sleeve of his dark purple robes and produced a small black pipe, masterfully crafted in the design of a small dragon.
With a snap of his fingers, a small orange flame ignited on the tip of his thumb, which he then stuck into the end of the pipe until it began to healthily smoke. With a shake of his hand, he extinguished the flame and took a large puff, letting the smoke escape his lips in the form of a ring. "Looks like there's a lot of potential this year. Perhaps enough potential for the winner to run the gauntlet?" He chuckled as he passed the pipe to Willie, offering him a smoke.
The sound of footsteps and a soft click, click, click, could be heard down the hallway leading to the observation deck. She had come here to join the Grand Tournament, but had arrived too late to sign up for it. A shame really, she had been hoping to test her skills against such opponents. The list had been long and all names were familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. Making her way to the deck railing she gazed upon the multiple arena screens, all the same, yet different at the same time. Each arena was constructed to appear and act like the real thing, complete with the hangar door that led to a pocket in actual space.
Tess stood, observing all the battles happening simultaneously, the others on the deck were preoccupied with various things; food, cards, smoking. Leaning on her elecrostaff she watched the match labeled 'Zik Kine vs. Adi Matango'. The man named Matango, was once a Jedi Master according to the roster, but he used everything but a lightsaber, "Very interesting." She said out loud to nobody in particular. His opponent, sure did like to talk though. As long as he could recover from the initial attack this should be an good fight.
Tess kept a watchful eye on all the screens, one had just concluded Ardasz Verd vs. Darth Andor, with the defeat of Darth Andor. It was a close fight, but ultimately it came down to who was left concious and breathing. And he missed that goal by the burned hairs of his head. His opponent, Ardasz, was resourceful, as most mandalorians were. The last second fire grenade adding a nice finisher. Tess' grip on her staff tightened as she wished to be in the fight. To stare her opponent in the eye and turn their confidence to fear. The fight was always better up close, the smell of sweat, blood, and adrenaline was thrilling.
She had to calm down, she was getting too excited for her own good right now. Tess turned away from the screens and walked over to the food table. There she found the ingredients to make herself a softshell taco. After completing her work she turned back toward the screens like she had missed part of the season finals of the local ball game. But this time her gaze was brought to the holo viewing another Mandalorian vs. Force user, labeled Faust Skirata vs. Bedrovelse Hevn, "Those two are fighting like starving Rancors!" She exclaimed, mouth half full of food.
She continued eating her taco, mesmerized by the fight, but the fighting happened so quickly it looked like it was over almost as soon as the previous fight. "These matches go by quicker than I envisioned they would. But that one right there: Calum Neth vs. Jolene Carter, they are taking their sweet time bantering like old lovers." Tess said to the old man standing near the table indicating the appropriate holo-screen.
Dash strode through the sliding doors of the observation deck, his emerald robes with deep purple trim billowing behind him, golden hilted saber snug on his hip, he walked as though he wished he where skipping, he too had been asked to join the tournament, however due certain circumstances had declined, after all the Zabrak that had just entered was no ordinary being, and not just his size, which matched the Zabrak currently standing in the middle of the mock hanger with his back to his enemy, or the genetic enhancements they shared, no this was one of those rare beings possessed with a true blindingly pure lightside connection. For you see, this Zabrak with the long flowing black hair speckled with streaks of white, and violet eyes was a chosen Guardian, of one of the few bastions of light side energies and tasked with its protection. He was tethered to the planet and it to him. The Guardian of Dantooine. "Ahh, I see the fighting has begun already, I apologize for being late." He said bowing to the ancient one Willie whom he'd only met once before, decades ago, when the mantle of Guardian had been passed to him. Dash watched the various battles and eyed the apparitions of former Sith lords with a raised brow then shrugged, the universe worked in mysterious ways. He then turned his attention to the one who seemed to be white knuckled and eager. "Blood lust, for battles not even your own?" He asked the seemingly young woman, not with a frown or accusation merely curiosity, as he asked his question he began heading for the food table. "Gizak steak and nearly raw? How do they know?" he said bemusedly to himself as he grabbed a plate and piled it high of various cooked and uncooked meats from the table.
I am nothing but Shadow against Shadow, for that is my path and my way.
With a mouth filled like a chipmunk, she looked at the large Zabrak in his pristine robes and shiny lightsaber hilt hanging on his hip. Quickly chewing and swallowing her food she replied to his comment, "You are mistaken Master Jedi, I simply enjoy the competition of a duel. I already have too much bloodshed on my hands and in my line of work to desire that of someone else." She reached for yet another taco as she spoke and upon finishing started eating that one. "Deesh tacosh are sho good." She commented moth partially full. But before she offered one to the Zabrak she eyed the steak on his plate and thought better of it. Looking back at the holoscreens Tess saw that four of the battles had concluded, two of the fights ended with a death, while the other two had their battle times run out on them and were turned to the judgment of the Chronicler's who had put on this event.
Tess looked at one of the elder looking gentlemen to see a far off look as if he was thinking hard about something. Maybe he was judging one of the battles, maybe he was just lost in thought, she didn't know. But she did know that the first round of fighting was drawing to a close. Swallowing the last bit of taco she had been eating she walked over to the screens once more, tapped a few buttons on the control panel, and watched as the holoscreen labeled Mike vs Kirwin displayed itself at eye level. She watched the fight from start to finish, rewound it, and rewatched it. All she had to say about the young bounty hunter was, "Sloppy." His tactics, his approach of the older, more experienced man: sloppy.
