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      For a Sith, there was no peace, only passion. Through passion, he would gain strength. Through strength, a Sith gained power. Through power, gained victory. And with victory, a Sith's chains were broken- and the Force would set him free.

      The Dark Side allowed him to express himself- a empty freedom. A power he would wield without rules, without mercy. The world was his and he would use this power as he saw fit. A lost Anakin, turning to Darkness, out of love, out of the passionate attachment to his wife.

      But life here long since forced him to restrain- to control himself. Vader hated that feeling- he wasn't to be controlled. He wasn't a pet. He had no leash and he was free. He belonged to no male- he would never be a slave, not again, to anyone of anything.

      And the only being in the galaxy, capable of swaying and relaxing his anger, was now pregnant with his children.

      To combat these frustrations- recent events- Victorianpup's refusal to understand his feelings. Susurro's disrespect. Padmé visiting Poe. Ivan finding his old home. Navi's upset. Jekyll's weakness. Jekyll's pasifism. Jonathan's poor choice. And now?

      Lessa. He feels weight on his shoulders, as his hands rest on his belt and he ventures outside the territory, heading to the boar's territory. He had been watching his target for a while now. One of the piglets from the troop he allowed to live, so he could harvest them, like crop.

      The boar has grown into a plentiful male, a giant. He's been taking guesses at its size. Six and a half feet long, perhaps. Fifty inches at the shoulder. Edging towards half a ton in meat. It would feed the clan for weeks- and Vader would purposely show them up. Maybe dare Susurro to attempt the same, with just as clean a kill. Then shrug and look dismayed when the boars break the young lion's spine.

      He would stop when he crossed the boar's border, reaching out with his senses. He already hears warning shrieks- ear piercing screams, emitted from deep in its throat.
      It knows he's hear to collect.

      He hears warning calls, threats, he presses ahead and breaks into a sprint, pulling his hilt from his belt. The boar is hostile, giantic- he leaps, and it meets him by tearing up, catching on Vader's cape and pulling back. He is surprised, briefly, but ignited his blade. The lion twisted, landing on its back and mounting it. His gloves latch onto the first handle he finds- the humped back, and it bucks, kicking and screaming. Vader plunges his blade in his shoulder, striking the joint, the creature falling on that leg, and rolling over, trying to get Vader off. The lion hears a crack and sparks- he curses, as his fingers curl, the Force tightening on its throat, beginning to choke it, and listens to its screams become gradually weaker. The boar tries to get up, but falls and will roll again. It bucks and shakes and writhes and his metal hand is going through its muscles. Vader raises his other hand, plunging the blade right into the boar's thick skull.

      It's still screaming. He'a hit its brain and its still screaming, crying for help, begging for the pain to stop, trying to run away, rolling over in one last, vain effort to survive.

      And it dies, its mouth closing as it leaves the world, an end to its scream. A thousand pounds of dead weight presses on Vader, he hears something else crack, and pushes- the boar rolling to its sides. He huffs. His breathing sounds slightly ragged and empty- like an incomplete breath. He feels his chest box, and his anger flairs. Damage. It got his most vulnerable spot. Whatever. It's fine. He can fix it. He can fix about anything.

      Except what you did to Lessa. He feels the dead Boar's neck crush- a reaction, and he lets it go. It's fine. He's fine. He can drag it back now.

      He pulls the rope he brought with from his belt, and ties it to the boar's hind ankles, and starts to drag it, like a dog that didn't want to leave the park yet. He presses ahead, alone with his thoughts, and the boar. It only takes a slight addition of super strength, to drag it.

      Less than an hour later, the boar is hanging over his right shoulder, off the ground, due to Vader's height. It was like a bag to him- a thousand pounds on his back, a being he had unleashed his fury, his need to destroy, his conflicts, his frustrations- his emotional weight- on this boar. And he carries it with one arm. His cape is rested in the crook of his other arm- an inherit mannerism to take care of his cape. A massive, three-fourths circle of black wool lined with satin.

      He slings the boar over his shoulder, landing it next to the pile, and letting roll onto its side. Vader's already knows it's attracted attention, and takes his cape, pulling it back onto his shoulders and clasping it, finding the link resting on his throat. He stares down at the boar's face- its eyes are still open, the expression of panicked fear petrified on its face, in a permanent scream.

      And Vader, staring at his own reflection in its black, empty eyes.

      // 909 words, jfc
      // see if you can spot the hidden meanings!!


      Played by OWLIE [BUSY]
    • // wooh, track! hell of a thread to read. <3

      tags 1-15-17
      - Lusa / Female / 14 moons / WindClan / Biromantic asexual / Guardian / NPC x NPC

      Chubby and fluffy black bear. Stout in build, green eyes. Thick furred. Abnormally long ears.

      - adventurous / calm and collected
      - caring / lovable / mischievous.
      - extroverted / social
      - hard headed / stubborn

      - Flower prints.
      - Ability to give or take away pain.
      - Scent manip

      - medium physically, easy mentally
      - mentored by Jonathan Toews
      - No kill, no maim, pm for capture, ask for major injury
      - Attacks in

      Moth wasn't one to stand gore at all. She had failed at hunting for many reasons - her clumsy nature was one, and her seeming intolerance of blood was another. So when Vader arrived in the clan territory with a bloodied boar, Moth was pawsteps away from fainting.

      She tried desperately not to look at the poor creature, even daring to cast Vader a weak smile. She could feel her stomach twisting and turning and her paws growing weaker. Her head was growing fainter, so the small cat padded on the ground to keep blood and oxygen flowing around freely. When she was sure of herself once more, she looked back to the boar. It's mouth was wide open in a silent scream, ragged cuts stretching along it's hind that had been delivered by Vader. Moth inhaled deeply, before turning back to Vader.

      It was then that she noticed that his 'control box' - as she called it, she was too intimidated to find out the real name of the contraption - was fairly damaged. His breathing wasn't the same, and sounded ragged instead of the haunting sigh that the female had heard before. She opened her mouth to speak, trying to sum up enough courage, her voice threatening to squeak slightly. "Vader... your, umm...." she gestured a paw towards his box, gaining a little more confidence that her voice hadn't squeaked - that didn't mean that she didn't sound fearful, however. Her voice had a nasty habit of betraying her, and it was especially noticeable in an accent like hers, British.



      tags — roleplayed by galahad

      Darth Vader is a cyborg barbary lion. An artificial lion-gorilla hybrid, robotic legs and arms allow him to walk upright and use his hands. At his full height, he is fourteen feet tall. A Dark Lord of the Sith, and former Supreme Leader of the First Order. He wears the axe of Rick Grimes, a knife from Judith, the eye patch of Bill Cipher on his belt, along with his lightsaber. Sometimes followed by Ivan (a polar bear.)

      Vader's eyes flickered to Moth- he noted her disgust (?) and horror. Okay... maybe he could help her somehow? After all, the would have to preserve this boar or eat it fast, before the flies found it....

      A spark flew fromhis. Best box, and he places a hand on it looking at her. "I am aware of it... Will fix it later." He said, moving to the boar. "Shall I cut some-" He's leaning down, moving into a crouch to cut something off for her- and color explodes in his right eye, the side faced away from them. His glove flies up, and he feels mushy skin- and covers the missing fragment with his hand. The lights hurt his eyes- and his left searched for the piece. His left hand felt the ground, until he was gripping the piece, and raised his hand.

      So. That was the crack he head when the hog rolled on him. Gravity had done the rest of the work, and now his face, hidden behind his glove.


      Played by OWLIE [BUSY]

      Moth felt a flicker of fear in her as Vader turned to look at her, placing a hand on his box. She winced slightly at the few sparks, but nodded at Vader's remark that he knew about it. As he moved down to the boar, Moth inhaled sharply and was about to ask him not to, when there was a fizzing sound and Vader's gloved hand shot up to his face. Moth peered over, narrowing her eyes. She couldn't quite tell what had happened, something to do with his eye. Momentarily ignoring the bloodied boar carcass, the feline stepped forwards. "Are you ok? What happened?" she asked, trying her best to sound kind. The female didn't really care if Vader couldn't feel emotion - being nice to people was a fundamental principle that Moth lived by.



      tags — roleplayed by galahad

    • Boars. She'd met one before back in her old home. Upon the rocks and the cold temperatures they had them. They smelled of carrion and were large tusked beasts with bristled hairs but because of her home being made up of primarily smaller felines such as herself they too care to avoid large groupings of them. But if one was caught alone... Her eyes wondered over toward where Vader was with another clanmate whose name escaped her for the moment. She had seen the piece fall from his face and land upon the ground. His quick reaction to cover the spot and grab for the piece frantically. Her body seemed tense at his reaction as she had never seen it before. Perhaps he did not wish for anyone to see his face. Was it bad? She wondered if he hid it because of some old injury. That was always a possibility but the soldier didn't think she would ask. Her cold fire gaze shifted toward the boar as well, seeing the dead creature with large wide open eyes in a permanent expression of fear. It brought her a sense of pleasure. It deserved to feel that fear and to be hunted as the prey that it was. Finally the blue warrior decided to make her way over, paws lightly stepping over the terrain as she grew closer to the pair. If only she had been on this hunt with him, though maybe because of his larger size she would have been more of a hindrance then helpful. "Vader. I applaud you in your catch but are you alright?"


      Darth Vader is a cyborg barbary lion. An artificial lion-gorilla hybrid, robotic legs and arms allow him to walk upright and use his hands. At his full height, he is fourteen feet tall. A Dark Lord of the Sith, and former Supreme Leader of the First Order. He wears the axe of Rick Grimes, a knife from Judith, the eye patch of Bill Cipher on his belt, along with his lightsaber. Sometimes followed by Ivan (a polar bear.)

      "I will be fine." He assures them, his head tilting up, the mask piece in his free hand, the other covering the hole.

      If they would every see a shard of his face, it would be in the midst of a battle, following a blaze of glory- and someone with a lucky, powerful blow. Rick Grimes' axe had been the last one to break his mask- a direct hit to Vader's face, and now he wore the weapon of his nemesis on his belt.

      "If I had to take a guess," He pauses- a raspy breath. "The boar could be over eight hundred pounds- perhaps, barely reaching half a ton. I had gotten onto its back, disabled its front legs, and it rolled over on me." He says, retelling the story, a spark flying from his chest. "Several times."

      A few breathes.
      "I enjoy hunting hogs and wild boar." I will commit genocide on the whole species. After all, they had killed Shmi. "They are evolved to take substantial amounts of damage." It was true- wild hogs could take shot gun shells to the head and still outrun you. "Were those hogs you mentioned like these, Blueridge?" He asked, mask focused on the boar but gaze on her.

      "I have been watching over a troop outside the territory since I joined. The key is to make sure you do not cut off their generations- so I've only killed the males." In one view, Vader was harvesting them- harvesting a live animal. Between them all, conscious creatures like themselves, did the ability to communicate between species separate the higher beings from the prey?


      Played by OWLIE [BUSY]