hidden_sith | (no subject)

Tobias would object to the extra limping!

As it is, he pauses long enough to jam the needle of a syringe full of painkillers into his leg so he can keep up with Revan. "So help me, Revan, if he's at the heart of the academy-!" he starts as he half-jogs, half-hops after the ex-Sith.

Trever finds himself in the middle of the two Jedi type people. He doesn't want to leave Tobias behind... but he doesn't want to lose Revan either. He moves at a half jog/half skip.

"Do not be stupid, Donn, I almost never ventured there. I never liked prophecy and you know it."

It doesn't take long before they come upon a huge, metal gate in the crevice. On the other side is a large clearing and the entrance to the academy (http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/8/81/Trayusacademy.jpg). "Welcome to the true Malachor V, Trever."

Once they get through, the gate will likely shut behind them.

"So good to be home again," Tobias mutters sarcastically. He's not so upset that he had to come here again, he's more upset that it does feel like home to him.

Oh, that's not creepy at all. Trever is looking around with large wide eyes, and twitching a little. But he straightens his jacket and keeps walking.

And into the building with them! Revan's got a half-smile on his face when he sees the familiar dark grey stone, with dim red lights set into the floor. He missed this place...

Trever's feeling off balance. He doesn't have his other half to balance out the Dark Side, so he's kinda mentally wobbly. It's a good thing they're not fighting anything.

Tobias last visit here was... bloody. He can still see one or two blood stains on the floor, from him and from his opponents both.

He shakes it off, focusing on the feel of the echo, the Wound in the Force that encompasses him and planet both. It's almost... centering. "Where should we start?"

"Bedrooms," he answers. "Mine was on the third floor, but unless he absorbed my technopathy he would not be able to get in. But I used other quarters, here on the ground floor, as well."

"He would remember whatever you remember," Trever says. "And go where it was safe."

"In that case, my quarters it is." Revan sets off again, toward one hall that has a lift at the end of it.

And follow does Trever do.

It's eeriely quiet in the academy. Then again, it had been when Tobias was here the first time; even in the midst of battle it had seemed like the entire place swallowed sounds and turned them into dull parodies of themselves.

The trip to the elevator and up to the third floor is uneventful.

Revan heads for one door, bypassing the rest. He stops, tapping in a code to open the door while drawing his long-bladed lightsaber, just in case.

The room appears to be empty. Well, no. There's a shock of red hair in a corner.

Ah-ha! Tobias carefully slips past Revan, making his way over. "Kale...?" he asks carefully.

Trever follows Tobias, but looks confused. "Where?"

"Corner, he says, indicating.

He looks in the corner indicated, but "I ... don't see anything."

And then Revan grabs both of them by the shoulders and holds them still, his lightsaber floating close by.

"Revan?" he calls in a sing-song, his voice suddenly devoid of its usual New Zealand accent. "Don't play games, Lord."

A sing-song voice comes back from somewhere in the room. "No Lord Revan here," Kale calls out. At least, it's probably Kale. The accent is all wrong and the diction and the tone.

Revan pushes past them, taking hold of his lightsaber hilt again. "Oh no? Then who am I speaking to?" He starts expanding his senses to fill the room, to find Kale or any of the others he sensed at Tobias's house; it's not difficult for him here, drawing on the Dark Side as he is.

They're all there. Sort of. They're sort of mushed together into something else. "That's a good question. Unfortunately, I don't know."

That... feels odd. "We're here to sort that out. We're here to make it easier on you," he says, still minus the accent. He's trying his damnedest to figure out where the center of that mushed-thing is.

Over to the left. In the shadows.

"We are? Do you talk about yourself in plural often? I do not even know you. And you are sounding crazier than I am right now."