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Posted by Klis on 11-10-2002 11:25 AM:
Klis' Haven
The doors to the dark room flys open with a loud shink. The stale air quickly flows out into the hall. His hair flows in this gust of air. His clothing in shreds and his face looks like a mess. Scars and scrapes, tatters and tears, his eyes are dimly lit by a red glow.
The sith stumbles into his room and collapses on the couch. He feels less and less like a being each day of life.
His heart is ravaged with hated, his mind twisted and torn.
"What is wrong with me.. Why amI being torn apart like this.."
The disciple grabs his head, his fingers digging at his temples, trying to soothe his mind.
"Perhaps I'll just sleep on it..."
"So, too, our grandsires will rise from the ground
They break their fast on the first part of us
They will consume us whole."
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Posted by Klis on 11-12-2002 07:56 PM:
'Twas early Morning. But being in Klis' room, you'd never know. For it was pitch black. No clocks, no lights, no windows. The only light came from the very being's eyes who lived there.
The light roamed the room, every corner to make sure that somehow, no intruders has breached his room.
The sith sat up slowly and stretched. It had been approximately a week now. Klis did indeed like his haven, the solitude, the silence, and the darkness. He felt the Rite of Possesion should be continued.
Klis rose to his feet and walked to the portraits he hung up the first day of moving in. He touched each portrait in a certain way and they glowed brilliant colors.
The light of each collided in the center, making an impressive collage in the center of the room. The sith seats himself just behind the collision of colors. Performing the Rite of Possesion. His arms entanling and separating, eventually he gains more and more momentum until his movements couldn't be seen.
After a moment or two the lights fade away. The ritual is then complete.
The sith climbs back onto his couch, and drifts back to sleep...
"Protoss life is a difficult one..."
Klis' Haven
The doors to the dark room flys open with a loud shink. The stale air quickly flows out into the hall. His hair flows in this gust of air. His clothing in shreds and his face looks like a mess. Scars and scrapes, tatters and tears, his eyes are dimly lit by a red glow.
The sith stumbles into his room and collapses on the couch. He feels less and less like a being each day of life.
His heart is ravaged with hated, his mind twisted and torn.
"What is wrong with me.. Why amI being torn apart like this.."
The disciple grabs his head, his fingers digging at his temples, trying to soothe his mind.
"Perhaps I'll just sleep on it..."
"So, too, our grandsires will rise from the ground
They break their fast on the first part of us
They will consume us whole."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Posted by Klis on 11-12-2002 07:56 PM:
'Twas early Morning. But being in Klis' room, you'd never know. For it was pitch black. No clocks, no lights, no windows. The only light came from the very being's eyes who lived there.
The light roamed the room, every corner to make sure that somehow, no intruders has breached his room.
The sith sat up slowly and stretched. It had been approximately a week now. Klis did indeed like his haven, the solitude, the silence, and the darkness. He felt the Rite of Possesion should be continued.
Klis rose to his feet and walked to the portraits he hung up the first day of moving in. He touched each portrait in a certain way and they glowed brilliant colors.
The light of each collided in the center, making an impressive collage in the center of the room. The sith seats himself just behind the collision of colors. Performing the Rite of Possesion. His arms entanling and separating, eventually he gains more and more momentum until his movements couldn't be seen.
After a moment or two the lights fade away. The ritual is then complete.
The sith climbs back onto his couch, and drifts back to sleep...
"Protoss life is a difficult one..."