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MSNPC Dusan Tornahd - Unmake What Has Been Made

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I've taken a liking to that MSNPC and am veeeery curious to see when we will see him again! Well done @Talos Dakora



(( Ertas Square, Tecra, Da’al ))


The bottom had dropped out of Dusan's life. 


Kyin, his partner of 15 years, was dead. As he knelt by her lifeless body where it lay pinned underneath the rubble of the bookstore that had once been her dream, he was surprised by how he felt. There was a distant sadness, an empty, longing feeling that he felt as though he'd always have. Their relationship had been... imperfect in recent years as Dusan had prioritized his career over her and the strain had been reaching a boiling point. He'd intended to do better. He'd planned to change-- To sweep her off her feet with some grand romantic gesture that would remind her of how things had once been-- but, now it was too late. In her last moments had she been filled with regret? Could he even blame her if she had been?


He just hadn't been there for her. And now, when she'd lay suffocating under a pile of debris, he'd failed her a final time.


No, sadness wasn't the primary emotion that Dusan felt. He felt disappointed and frustrated, but deep within him a primal rage had begun to burn, slowly at first but building in intensity. 


He coughed as the wind-driven dust irritated his lungs and eyed the outlanders with contempt.



Tornahd: Had we not detoured to place the forcefields, my Kyin might've been saved. ::He shook his head, in utter disappointment.:: I fear I made a mistake, aligning with you…


The Starfleeters looked surprised, like they hadn't been so preoccupied with securing the crater that they'd delayed his getting to Kyin. Worse, they were puppets of the Da'al Government that had allowed this to happen in the first place.


Yalu: We’re here to help. ::beat:: I know what you're going through, believe me. We only want to help.


Hearing the calm words of Mister Yogi, Dusan saw through the haze for a moment. They had been nothing friendly and helpful to him. So why was he so angry? Why did he want to scream at them until his voice gave out?


He sat there kneeling at Kyin's side, brow furrowed, trying to process his own feelings when one of the other Officers approached Yogi. They had a hushed conversation, the secrecy of which only aggravated Dusan further, before Yogi took a step towards him and spoke in a conciliatory tone.


Yalu: Mr. Tornahd, I’m afraid we need to keep moving, but if you’d allow us, we can transport your wife’s body aboard our shuttlecraft until funerary arrangements can be made.


He could hear the approaching crowd in the distance and the sounds of alarms and breaking glass seemed to be moving with the large group. Where fear should have been Dusan only felt envy. He wanted to yell. He wanted to destroy. Again, Yogi's calming tone brought him back down.


Tornahd: Huh? Y-yes. Go ahead then. 


He released her lifeless hand and took a step back.


Osuna: response


As the shouts of the crowd grew nearer, they seemed to be bent on wanton destruction, breaking the glass storefronts of any surviving buildings and... there was a new sound. It was something Dusan had never heard before; the discharging of energy weapons.


His jealousy of the rioters intensified. A little voice within his mind sang for destruction. There was a growing itch that only chaos could scratch. He felt his face twitch as he tried to resist it.


Yalu: If things are getting violent, we ought to regroup. =/\= Yalu to Galaktoboureko. =/\=


Nothing happened.


Yalu: =/\= Yalu to Galaktoboureko. Computer, please respond. =/\=


Dusan stared longingly in the direction of the noise as Yogi had a conversation with whomever had commandeered his shuttle. Distantly, he knew he should care about that, but he did not. 


Yellir: That fight is getting closer commander. We can’t stay here.


The brightly complected Engineer's voice was abuzz with frantic excitement and it drew Dusan's attention away from the riotous crowd for a moment.


Jones: Sir, the situation here is getting worse. We should get to safety soon. I'm not sure what it means yet, but those surges are being caused by the compound I told you about ... 

and they're increasing in frequency and strength.


He nodded enthusiastically.


Tornahd: Of course. ::His voice sounded surprisingly enthusiastic when he finally spoke.:: Don't you feel it? Feel the pull?


Osuna: response


Yalu: We have to head back immediately. Mr. Tornahd, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with us.


Jones: Mr. Tornahd, I'll beam your wife to the triage center for now until we're sure what's going on with our shuttle.


Nodding, Dusan waved acquiescence to the Doctor's plan. The situation with Kyin didn't matter. The Meteor impact didn't matter. The siren song of devastation was ringing out in the streets of Tecra and he needed to dance to it.


Yellir: I’ll stick in the middle with Mr. Tornahd.


A fresh gust of wind blew even more dust in their direction as Dusan prepared to move with the outlanders, glancing over his should in the direction of the rioters every few seconds as he did. 


Tornahd: They're coming now. ::He beamed.:: They're coming!


Osuna: response


Jones: ::coughing to clear the dust from his lungs:: Can we go now, please?


Yalu/Osuna: Responses


Dusan began to move with the Starfleeters, but after a few steps his eyes fell on a long, metal pipe, laying discarded in the street. It was surely some bit of debris from the wrecked buildings all around, but his fingers wiggled in anticipation as he stepped toward it. 


Conveniently another gust of wind-driven dust blew across them, reducing visibility and Dusan took that opportunity to surge toward the pipe, grasping the cold length of it in his hands like it had been made specifically for him.


Jones: Uh ... gang? What the hell is going on?


He could hear the others through the howling dust-up, but just barely. 


Yellir: We’re out in the open, we need cover NOW


As the dust storm settled, Dusan held the pipe high overhead and released a guttural howl of animalistic glee. He brought the pipe down as hard as he could manage on what remained of the storefront window glass of the adjacent building and the resulting crash sent shivers of contentment coursing through his body. 


Nearby, the Starfleeters spoke.


Yalu / Osuna: Responses


Tornahd: It doesn't matter. None of this is real. ::He brought the pipe down on an ornate glass door.:: I will right the wrong. I will unmake what has been made.


Yellir: If we stay here, we’ll either lose our eyesight or get vaporized by the trigger-happy civilians if we’re lucky. This isn’t the time to push our luck!


She didn’t bother to keep herself quiet, feeling her legs carry her further from the weapon’s fire.


Yalu / Osuna/Yellir/Jones: Responses


The outlanders didn't understand. They didn't see it. Their minds were not open to the beauty in the chaos, but his was. He turned and ran toward the rioters, howling and swinging his pipe at anything standing as he did.


Soon the Starfleeters were long behind him and he was among the throng of bodies. Dusan was among them and their rage had become his rage and his rage was theirs. 


At long last, the voice in his mind sang the song of destruction as he pried a shop door off its hinges with his pipe and began smashing the computer screens inside.


((OOC: Driven mad by the anger-dust, Dusan has split from the group to join the rioters, but we haven't seen the last of him. 😉))




Dusan Tornahd
Middle Manager
Turyon Heavy Industries
as simmed by:
Lt. Talos Dakora
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Artemis-A


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