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Old 04-11-2009, 03:37 AM   #48
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Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: England
Posts: 323
Current Game: Empire at War: FoC
Sev's eye's snapped open as he took in the harsh visage of Master Vrook. He lifted himself to his feet and fell back against the wall, sucking in every bit of air about him. He exhaled with relief, finding whatever had previously ailed him to have faded. The image of the masked figure remained, as did the sense of ... hunger. He had delved far too deeply into the creature's web, only to become ensnared. It seemed he had, for now, escaped it's trapping's.

"Master, Knight."

He nodded coldly at the pair and moved away, his glare wavering on Vrook. As the cold air came about him he staggered slightly, his body still numb from the experience. After escaping the Master's vision he slid down a nearby wall and breathed in a frantic fashion. Air began to pour out of his mouth, as he could not retain such a needed substance. He rubbed his temple's and tried to focus, drawing his lightsaber as he did so. He ignited it a few feet from his face, holding it up with the force. He deactivated the blade and let the hilt fall into his lap, caressing the intricate design with a fondering affection.

He tried to meditate, but found he could not focus so much so as to enter such a difficult stance. Sev was, if anything, extremely reserved. He never showed his expression, even under the most agonizing pain. Never once had he even smiled, even let a tear fall, such was his mysterious character. Vrook seemed to criticize him for being reserved, even though such was the Jedi way. The Master had a unique point of view, a unique attitude. Such thing's made him a good Master in many way's, yet it also held him back.

Sev broke free of such thought's as he realized that most of the Knight's were beginning to pack their item's. To send such a large amount of force on a single mission, such was foolish even for the Jedi Master's. Not a single Master was in their rank's either and most of the Jedi selected were relatively new to the roll, or did not quite have the attitude for it. He held his palm down as a small bird flittered onto his glove, allowing him to run his finger down it's warm feather's. He stared at the small creature, taking in it's beatiful design, then rose his hand as to let the bird leave.

He attempted to rise, this time with more strength and headed for his quarter's. He arrived safely, only to find the door locked tight. He expected that this was because his Master had requested he gone on the mission, so his door was sealed until his return ... or demise. Either way he held two finger's to the locking mechansim, controlling his breathing carefully as he attempted to undo the advanced design. His attempt was met with success, most likely because the Master's would not expect for a Jedi Knight to break into someone else's room.

He cast the door aside as he entered, only to find a large bag in the middle of his bed. Sev used the force to guide it into his closet, having no interest in this mission the council would send him on. As a practicioner of Soresu and a ranking 'Force Master' his Mistress likely intended for him to play a role in the mission, but he denied her. He held ample respect for the Jedi Master, but did not quite understand as to why the Master's intended to send so many to their death's. He knew that his vision's, his torture, it was connected to this mission.

He had yet to inform anyone as to what the nature of their mission was, yet he suspected that he knew more than the Master's in this one paticular subject. Sev laid silently atop his bed, drifting into the world of the sleeping. Before closing his eye's, he re-sealed the door and erased any record of his entering of the apartment complex. He needed rest and wanted no one to disturb it, much less drag them on this foolhardy crusade of there's.

Grand Admiral of the Imperial Remnant.
"This one is constantly thinking, analyzing, strategizing. He showed no fear, but was curious, studying me in turn."
―Emperor Palpatine
"All thoughts are worth listening to, whether later judged to be of value or not."
"I have no qualms about accepting a useful idea merely because it wasn't my own."
"Butů it was so artistically done."
―Thrawn's last words
-Master Tactician
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