Dimitri J. Dragovar

Mal'kumbu Yo'gand
Biographical information
Homeworld	Mustafar Aduba-3 Zonama Sekot
Born	236 ABY, Mensix Mining Facility, Mustafar
Physical description
Species	Human Yuuzhan Vong
Gender	Male
Height	2 meters (6' 7")
Mass	125 kilograms (275 lb) (was 84 kilograms (187 lb) prior to augmentation)
Hair color	Black, currently bald
Eye color	Corrupted Sith Eyes
Skin color	Light, later pale due to corruption/Vong Ascension
Cybernetics	Cybernetics / Mechanics (Now irrelevant)
Chronological and political information
Era(s)	Post-Legacy era
Affiliation(s)	Triumvirate of the Sith Yuuzhan Vong
Caste	Shamed Ones
Domain	Domain Yo'gand
Masters	Darth Zerafon (Passed) Morrigan Wemyss (Passed) Unnamed Elderly Mentor (Parted Ways)
Apprentices	Quinn (SWRP Byss/Caamor - Passed) Lunasa (SWRP Byss/Caamor - Passed) Zaria Lustweave (SWRP Byss/Caamor - MIA, assumed dead) Dusk (SWRP Byss/Caamor - MIA, assumed dead)
OOC information
Player	Dimitri Dragovar
Date created	Early/Mid 2015

"Some have asked me how I dare consider myself a genius, when I can hardly tell what is false and what is reality. I tell them it's simple: I'm really, really good at figuring out how to cause you pain and acting upon it."

— Dimitri J. Dragovar

Also known as Lord Jhin, Darth Victus the Blade of the Triumvirate, Dread Knight of Yun-Sanit, and Mal'kumbu Yo'gand.

Biography

Consequential Birth

The enigmatic and overly-stubborn human male turned Sith, Dimitri Dragovar, rumored to be born from a pair of slave parents on the Mensix Mining Facility on the scorched planet of Mustafar. A villain and scumbag in the faces of many, a line-walker by others, but a warrior above all. Relying on fear, manipulation, deception, theft and sometimes outright brutality in attempts to carve himself a seat of power within the galaxy.

As one would expect with a mining facility run under the stringent regulations of The Empire; unexpected births were more of a burden towards productivity than was allowed. Ripped from the weakened arms of his folks, the newborn was taken away for extermination. Naturally this carried his father into a swift rage with such intensity only known by a father protecting his kin. Sadly in his weakened state due to overbearing work conditions and consistent punishment; he was shortly overwhelmed by security forces. A single blaster bolt being placed right between his eyes. Gaining the attention of a powerful Sith Lord overseeing the operations, he only promised the newborn an elongated death as punishment just before the trigger was pulled.

Eyes balls ripped from Dimitri's skull, charring the wounds with white-hot stones then salted. Accompanied by a slow castration. Instead of death through excruciating torture, he was thrown into the camp of slaves, as a message to other who dared defy. With this it's fair to assume the newborn would quickly succumb towards the elements and/or infection of the severe wounds. However, one person, willing to risk their own survival scooped the dying baby in their arms. Doing quite literally anything they could to keep the newborn breathing as he fell unconscious from utter shock. Allowing the infant a brief respite from the crying, and unspeakable pain inflicted. Thankfully the hot stones actually seared a majority of the wound in the sockets, stopping the bleeding. - A captured Jedi healer, her experiences in medicine serving as nurse when she could and force-healer for the Republic's medical staff in one of the many military camps on various planets involved during their campaigns against the Empire. Her name was Delilah Fawn. A rather young red Lethan Twi'lek with white and purple tattoos. Her tools were extremely primitive given the circumstances and medicine was scarce and hard to come by unless stolen from the mining facilities medical wing, yet she took the risk for a completely random human child. Calling upon the force to stabilize him for now, buying the child some precious time.

Of course actually keeping, let alone hiding the child for an extended period of time was out of the question, and in the end would only extend the inevitable. Delilah had a choice to make. With this in mind, she nursed the child back to relatively stable health with the reluctant assistance of others inspired by the Jedi's empathy. Wrapping him up with a short note that read, "Please, please someone take this child far, far away! He doesn't deserve this. At least give him a chance for life away from the Empire's reach." Smuggling him in one of the many out-going ships' cargo containers. Destination? Aduba-3.

Personality & Beliefs

An ever-changing personality throughout his years; as if evolving and adapting to best suit his survival. Placing Dimitri Dragovar's true personality and intentions has proven difficult, to say the least. Harboring deep nihilistic and atheistic beliefs, concepts like morality and emotion were considered trivial. He’s an empiricist, believing concepts like “good” and “evil” are subjective to the individual, for without individual interpretation (and eventually majority agreement), they would not exist. The public consensus of morality, he argues, is simply a method of controlling the population with the fear of a final judgment and/or violation of “societal norms.” This belief in subjective mortality only augments Dimitri’s antisocial behavior, giving him justification to sleep peacefully after the atrocities he’s committed, and still plans to. 

Because he feels life is inherently meaningless and the individual can never give true significance to his/her life; he lives only to do as he pleases, with little regard for others. His murder sprees are fueled by his disgust for society, and with no belief in an afterlife or morality, he sees little self-detriment by causing chaos anywhere he wanders. He does not believe his purpose is to destroy; it’s simply what he feels to be the most temporarily enjoyable use of his time alive. “No matter how long one can prolong their life,” he argues, “everything living dies. There are no exceptions.” When confronted about his beliefs, unswerving in his ideals. Delusions of grandeur and arrogance always lead to the belittlement of anyone suggesting otherwise, as he views religious faith and optimism akin to stupidity and weakness. Also going as far to view both the Jedi and Sith sides to the same coin.

Despite what he claims, Dimitri has no personal relationships and no true loyalty to anyone but himself. He may have trusted associates in and out of Byss, as well as a "Possible" love life, but if it came down to it, Mr. Dragovar would probably throw anyone under the bus for his own survival and continuity of his goals. The Darth Victus of the present still sees concepts like love and friendships to be trivial, and now his perceived relationships are little more than a means to an end for him. It's quite possible that he does have a hierarchy to his associations and may even feel genuine love for whomever he's romantically involved with, if anyone at all, but he doesn't comprehend or understand these feelings. Thus, when he calls someone a friend or tells them he loves them, he truly believes he doesn't mean it and is attempting to appear somewhat normal. Nonetheless,he does contain a degree of respect for some individuals, as well as notable "business relationships". Though the stability of these relationships remains unknown for now.

Newfound Talents

Spending a plethora of his young years, up until fifteen, bouncing around between various cesspools on Aduba-3, and picking up what knowledge and skills he could from, 'the scum of the world' types. Learning and mastering many unorthodox methods of defending himself and surveying his environment through pure muscle-memory and touch to compensate for his blindness. Now relying on a skillful silver tongue, and playing a calculated game against all of his enemies. With the loss of his sight, comes unforeseen advantages. Dimitri's sense of smell, and hearing both grew to a fine pinpoint as his other skill did with age; allowing him to operate on a level of awareness lost to those lacking extreme amounts of training, discipline or specie specific advantages. Most of his earliest years were spent on his hands and knees, crawling and counting each foot, memorizing every turn deeply within his mind. Usually resorting to begging at that time for scraps to keep himself going, enduring the absolute humiliation and degradation.

However, despite his abundance of raw skill, he lacked proper drive and direction to apply them properly amongst the public. This was easily conveyed by the sheer amount of broken bones, beatings, even rape he endured and scars that utterly littered his flesh. "Painful lessons and reminders of past weakness and ignorance that has left the body." Eventually gaining the attention of a rather odd, disheveled old beggar as he made one of his many passes by the man in one of his very many attempts in stealing food from the local markets. This beggar had witnessed more than a handful of the masochist's severe beatings as the years had passed by.

A single feeble hand rested on the boy's shoulder, to accompany the surprisingly youthful, yet commanding sounding voice carry the importance of a message. "You're the type to just throw yourself suicidally in harms way, purely for the sake of it. Testing your limits to see what you can get out of alive, trying find purpose to it all. Dually bold and mind-numbingly foolish, boy." Not exactly much choice was given to Dimitri as he felt himself suddenly overcome by an unfathomable amount of strength from such a frail and feeble looking man. Not that he'd even be able to see anyways. Quite hilariously close to a parent tugging their child by the ear as they scolded them. It's fair to say it'd be pointless fighting back, the old man had a specific nerve in his neck pinched firmly between his fingertips, keeping a comfortably secure hold despite whatever struggling that occured. It seemed almost too effortless for him.

Eventually their short stroll turned into a journey spanning over half of the long, hot and humid day. Until the old man finally lead him to what most would think of as an amalgamated pile of scrap metal and trash, posing as a run-down hut in an already run-down field of ship carcasses and destroyed buildings of old, sieged by sandstorms and tangling vines armed with thorns. A graveyard of the past if anything. Effortlessly guiding him inside his makeshift home, and even stranger? The elderly fellow offered a decent meal, comfortable place to sleep, but most importantly, knowledge. But not his name. Never his name. - Shortly after their peculiar journey and introduction, the gray-haired, seasoned beggar revealed himself to actually be an old follower of Darth Revan's philosophy and teachings. A Revanite. He found Dimitri's unrelenting determination and stubbornness even when beaten to a bloody pulp quite fascinating, and perhaps offered a spark of potential. Maybe.

All Grown Up

Somehow managing to pull through and survive up until a ripe age of nineteen under the old man's care. Enduring a training regiment on par to inconceivable levels of torture by the Empire; essentially breaking him down to build him back up again, harshly punishing bad habits with physical beatings, forced consumption of hallucinogens, starving, and extreme exhaustion nearing death on many occasions. This seemingly completely random old man that quite literally plucked him from the streets was probably the closest thing to a father figure he's ever had. Teaching him the finer tricks of the trade, religiously drilling ALL seven swordsmanship forms, eventually-highly specializing in forms: Two(Makashi), Seven(Juyo), but completely mastering Form Five(Shien/Djem So). Disciplining him to hone his other senses even further than they have naturally developed on his own. But most importantly, unveiling the young man's force-sensitivity, and lo, opening him to a whole new way of life. Constantly displaying incredible feats of strength and skill, it was clear to anyone this decrepit old fellow was nowhere near what he appeared on the surface. It all seemed to be a front, though for unsubstantiated reasons.  

Cold, windy nights were generally favored by the both of them for their long walks throughout the slums. Their way of meditation, perhaps? Drawn towards a small alcove by two hushed voices, cleverly hidden away, containing two individuals, one of them a young female human, buzzed dark-brown hair; openly wielding a green lightsaber. The other, an elderly human male with long salt and pepper facial hair, heavily shrouded in a long multi-colored cloak; seemingly unarmed for the moment. Jedi.

"This should serve as a suitable test, young one. Go. They won't be missed, nor will you if you fail." With those words echoing throughout his head, Dimitri would step from beyond the shadows; an elongated, crudely crafted long sword style blade with an extended cross-guard would rest on his right shoulder. The two Jedi immediately turned to meet him, "I'd highly suggest returning your weapon from where it came, friend." But before the words had finished on the younger Jedi's lips, she heard the whisper of steel being drawn against leather, just before she turned to meet this newcomer's after-image. Followed by the reverberating hum of her older allies' lightsaber igniting. In the heartbeats that followed, a whirling gust picked up inside the alcove; kicking up a thick layer of sand between everyone.

Managing to slip through the Jedi's defenses with a single, explosive like dash towards the two in a forty-five degree angle; utilizing the thick veil of dust masking his movements and disturbing their exposed eyes. They brandished their weapons, foolishly trying to parry the sword that stormed around them in a totally foreign manner, its metal arcing like lightning. It was too late. The young man's blade flashed in and out of the Jedi, trailing lethal ribbons of red in a whirlwind behind him. When all was done in what seemed a matter of seconds, the two Jedi had swiftly fallen, he paused, his breathing heavy and fierce. His gaze locked with the beastly eyes his mentor over his shoulder, even despite the obvious irrelevance of the gesture. "Good. Perhaps my words managed to slip through that thick skull of yours after-all. Leave them, let the elements do what they do best. You pass."

Recruitment & New Frontier

A full year had passed since previous events, Dimitri experienced a rather rude awakening, only to find a small pack of his belongings and weaponry in a neat pile near the makeshift door. "It's time you've applied my teachings on your own, I can't continue sheltering you; and you'll 'never expand beyond your boundaries stuck in a place such as this. You'll eat your final meal, then be on your way. You're no longer my student. You're now a student to the vast galaxy available to you, don't squander your potential with complacency. Question everything. - Now eat, and get out of here, you're wasting precious time." Each word rolled gracefully off his tongue with little emotion backing them up. Supporting himself on a thick, decorative walking stick. Whether he actually needed it or not was still unknown, he never once broke character around the young man. "You're also going to adopt a new name. My choice, of course. As you're clearly not the boy I once met, and that old moniker doesn't fit you now if you ask me. Mm... Jhin. Jhin sounds nice, simple yet unique." The old man offering a deep throated chuckle underneath his breathe before being interrupted by a few coughs. Carefully sitting himself at a crudely constructed table, probably mostly constructed from various scraps and wood if any was around, but mostly metal 

Jhin hadn't exactly grown any real sort of emotional connection towards his now previous mentor, but he'd be reluctant to admit that he at least was somewhat disheartened, being forced out so sudden. But in the end, he knew he was right. Every day, every week that passed during his training, he dreamed of finally leaving this anarchy ridden planet. Exploring endless amounts of planets strewn throughout the galaxy within Sith and Hutt owned space; meeting new people, cultures and facing new challenges to overcome. The day dreaming constantly ate away at his mind, nearing an obsessive desire to stay on the move, to never grow comfortable in one spot. Always working towards change.

Curiosity, driving people to do unimaginable things throughout history, go places nobody would ever think to go. For Jhin, his curiosity would eventually bring him to the planet of Byss, located in the deep core, nearing the center of the galaxy. Saving up through various thefts and shake-downs to pay for a one way ride only, on a large-scale cargo freighter. Eventually working his way into the city of Khayal, the capital city ruled by the Sith. Faint whispers of this facility managed to grace his ears a few times throughout his travels amongst the people. As time had passed, it only peaked his curiosity even further. If the rumors proved to even hold a modicum of honesty, perhaps it's worth a shot. The I.S.M. offered so much that Jhin simply couldn't gain or accomplish on his own; maybe even a chance to demonstrate his skill to outshining his perceived disability. He wasted no time in signing his name away on the dotted line, so to speak. Starting down a military career path that day, being guided into recruitment processing. Too late to turn back now. Jhin would spend four long years enduring the intense training regiment that definitely didn't disappoint the rumors by any means. Keeping his force-sensitivity and talents secret from any and every one, simply conveying himself as a damn lucky shot that used echo-location to locate his targets; at least until an Imperial Officer presented the opportunity for cybernetic implants for his faithful service.

The Long Road to Come

Getting stationed at the I.S.M. headquarters within the citadel, shortly after his graduation from the academy; all Jhin thought of from this point on was climbing in rank, and thriving in the heat and chaos of the battlefield. For the majority of his time within the academy, he kept to himself, rarely speaking outside of commands from his officers. There was little to no time for making acquaintances anyways. His mouth and consistent sarcasm was always an issue and one of the main sources of him getting into trouble; even when it came to Drill-Sargents, Officers, even Sith. Jhin refused to allow "Brown-nosing, religious zealots attempting to cling into their antiquated beliefs." to look down upon him. Even if it meant unfathomable punishment. To him, it was worth every syllable. So his time at his post in the citadel proved hellish, to say the least. Being stuck in a guard position and barely being dispatched on off-world operations was really beginning to eat away at his patience.               

To this day, Jhin gambles and dares to walk the thin line of oblivion in search of immense power, of course only to fuel his own self-interests. Absolutely no desire for a seat upon the Sith throne crossed in his mind. Eventually planning to move forward, beyond what the I.S.M. or Sith could ever possibly offer him once he feels he's ascertained the essence of their proper training and knowledge.

However, Jhin wouldn't dare leave Byss, not without a few specific Sith and Imperial heads firmly hanging from his belt beforehand. Eventually, he bided enough time to catch the attention of Darth Siyala. She would occasionally send familiar chills down his spine, reminding him partially of his old nameless mentor in her attitude and the way she went about handling things in-comparison to other Sith he had the displeasure of meeting. She saw past his ruse and sensed his force-sensitivity rather easily, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from her. Like before, a re-occurring pattern seemed to take place, she plucked him from a meeting with his squadron commander and fellow soldiers, and thus, his life took another dramatic turn down the windy webbing of life's outcomes.

Recent Events (Always Updating!)

Darth Victus has done a lot of growing ever since his first arrival on Byss. Under-going brutally intensive, hand-crafted training sessions and trials with his master on a daily basis. Accompanying her on many missions off-world, exploring Sith Ruins, Building Alliances, and learning the sith code purely through a trial of fire. His master, along with her hired friends and acquaintances constantly ambushed and attacked him randomly to keep him on the on his toes at all times. She showed absolutely zero mercy when it came to beating her own apprentice, bringing him near death on more than a handful of occasions. Typically through force-lightning, purely for the sake of overloading his cybernetic augmentations that kept his broken body together.

Attending Imperial meetings weekly, performing solo reconnaissance missions on various Jedi planets; sometimes requiring combat to escape. These experiences building him into a well-rounded warrior. Even successfully orchestrating the capture of ex-Jedi Council Master, Jesma Pearl. Bringing her into the holding cells over his shoulder, presenting her as a gift to the almighty Sith Emperor Destius. She was eventually turned to the dark-side.

Participating in the defense of the planet Bengat's siege from the Yuuzhan Vong, slaying scores of their warriors by himself. Organizing and leading a small force of survivors to combat the invasion with great success. Acting as a catalyst towards re-taking the planet, and gaining an abundance of knowledge for the Empire. Accomplishing his mission without the force, due to the unrelenting plague-like mist encompassing the planet from the Vong. Temporarily stripping all sensitives of it completely. Forcing the Apprentice to rely completely on his dueling ability, something he reveled in immensely. - Eventually, Jhin, became Lord Jhin, and he passed every single thing his master could throw at him. With his title, came more work and responsibility, but most importantly, freedom to act on his own.

Growing a sickening level of hatred and resentment for other Sith orders he came into contact with and worked alongside during his time as an apprentice, and Lord; all-through observing constant examples of complacency, arrogance, ignorance and outright traitorous actions. It boiled over and almost consumed the young Lord at times, tempting him to cleanse Byss of a majority of it's Sith inhabitants, in his mind all to the benefit of the Empire. These thoughts did not go unnoticed by his new master, Jen'ari Zerafon, the Dark Lord of the Triumvirate. Forcing Jhin through another set of trials in a temple hidden in the dense jungles of Dromund Kaas, that lasted far longer than he could ever anticipate, being forced to experience such pain that rivaled his own birth. Eventually exiting the temple dubbed, Darth Victus, Blade of the Triumvirate, Hand to Zerafon. Yet again, ditching his name of old. Undertaking a terrible oath and curse, as such power typically never came without a price.

Dread Mask

The First Nightmare!

Dust sweeps from the cobbled ground as the slick dying glow of the setting sun crept through the heavy tinged sky. The wind brushed against you harshly but your view takes you to look over far to the mountains on the horizon. Before you a great and crumbling canyon, housing ruins of sorts. Great obelisks diminished to mere pillars, paths taken by the sands of time and great statues of ancient beings cracked and broken.

"They...are coming. I have made the correct preparations."

"Pillage what you can and commence the evacuation."

A tall slender man walked weakly beside a cloaked figure as they passed you. Although you didn't feel them nor did they see you. Before you stands a crumbling ancient building, half destroyed through a apparent siege. A Sith Insigna stands scorched high above the building.

"If I..I can talk. Just meet him, m-maybe he can tell me more....my Lord?"

The slender man spoke as the two disappeared into the building.

On the horizon stood a vast armada of ships, blackening the sky they slowly were moving in your direction as light, but was this a dream or a thing of the past. You couldn't tell but the beings moving toward the evacuation held a familiar insignia. Pillaging the tombs, taking what they can before the Armada came. But it was a flicker, perhaps a jolt of pain. You didn't know but it felt like something was choking you, it felt like your insides were being torn apart. It felt like poison stinging your system. Your eyes close and then everything goes dark.

It's dark, you can't move. The Force is gone. Your body doesn't respond.

"Terrible shame what happened to that Planet."

A voice speaks from behind you, but you cannot figure where

"Well, not really. History repeats itself. Hahaha.....silly."

It's dark. Formless, drifting in the void. You hear laughing.

You see the Mask, laughing.

Your insides feel as if they are on fire, blood weeps from your eyes and that laughing ringing in your ears.

It's torture, it's pain.

Dark claws reach out to you, twisted and grotesque. It's blood or is it bile. Your not sure. You can't move. You can't see. You can't feel anymore. You can't breathe. Your arm snaps. Maybe your mind, just and then you hear the Mask speak.

"Wakey wakey time. I'm coming."

You wake up.

"Face of Man"

[[Taken from Lord Sanit's "Face of Man" ]]

Chapter VIII

----------------------

"The Terror Mask

For whence thy awaken

Sleepless dreams

Lost ambition, look in thy mirror

A petal blossoms from a dying rose

Thy color would be red

Thy eyes bound by fear

Carved into thy face

Deep, darkened blackest of night

Sins of the loathful and wicked

Sprout in ill flame

Thy face speaks for you

Whence whether one can discover

The Terror Mask of thy own

Thy found yours in a bloody ballet

He hath found his in the darkest of desires

God has become he

He has become God

Thy mask is his new face."

*The pages are torn and faded*

Description

Assumed to be a patchwork of old flesh haphazardly stitched together, from whom exactly remains unknown. Holding an terrifying expression, forever frozen in sheer horror. The mask itself is seemingly tainted by a foreign source of energy; heavily corrupting the wearer's mind, body and soul. Some have claimed to hear tantalizing whispers emanating from it, almost as if it's watching them, calling out to them. it's true origins remain a mystery, even to it's current owner. - In spite of that, it greatly increases the power of whoever proves brave, or foolish enough to dawn it's curse. Typically offering unorthodox abilities unknown to even the most wisest of Sith Sorcerers and Alchemists alike.

The Yuuzhan Vong Family

After a hail of devastating blows received amidst the chaotic battle within the Emperor's throne room, the once known Darth Victus fell as a Dread Knight of Yun-Sanit (Zerafon). Dissipating into a pool of inky, jet-black fluid and swiftly seeping into the cracks left by the intense battle. Naturally presumed dead amongst the Sith Empire; they were deceived. Taking a major risk and immense power within the Dark-Side of the force to take possession of a mere homeless civilian within the lower-city of Byss' capital, hoping their absence would go completely unnoticed. Time was crucial, as such a mere mortal coil attempting to contain such strength would hastily begin to decay. This also caused Victus to suffer immense gaps in his memory and a horrendously fractured personality to say the least. 

  Taking advantage of the chaos and that a majority of the guards and troopers were rushing towards the Citadel to protect their Emperor, he stole a small freighter ship; making way for a "dark corner" of the galaxy to hide away for some time. As one would expect, time was not an asset he had in abundance, for the vast reaching arm of the Empire would inevitably sense and find him. Everyone within his order (The Triumvirate) assumed dead by Victus, his temple soon to be destroyed, droid army deactivated, and all other resources no longer available to him; he only had one other desperate option. The Yuuzhan Vong.

  Victus was lucky enough they managed to reach him in time and take his withering and dying body, barely clawing tooth and nail for his life through his sheer hatred, and pain from his death and humiliation. Managing to stabilize his body with the assistance of an Adept and Master Shaper, taking immense time, extreme agony and perhaps even a bit of favor from the gods, or so the Vong believed. Rebuilding his entire body to truly reflect his rebirth within the Yuuzhan Vong, a monstrous beast of a man, if one could even call him one anymore. With that? A new name, Mal'kumbu Yo'gand. A decision was made to bring their new creation back to a very ancient Worldship named Koros-Strohna, tucked away within a cluster of asteroids in deep, deep space. Eventually to show it their adopted home-world of Zonama Sekot.

  However, Zonama Sekot was nearly an entire galaxy away, uncharted space seemingly endless light-years away. Therefor in the meantime they placed Mal'kumbu Yo'gand within an Embrace of Pain for the entire journey home; truly embedding the way of the Vong to fill in the missing gaps in their creation's fractured mind. After an extremely long and perilous journey through deep-space, they have arrived, they were home. A truly living, sentient world that was capable of traveling through space. Zonama was the planet itself, while Sekot was the living intelligence of Zonama. A culture shock was one hell of an understatement, the religious fervor of organic symbiosis and utter disdain for anything technological was not unknown to the creature once known as Victus; but this was truly awe-inspiring.

  During his stay within the Vong society, he was forced to serve within the caste of Shamed Ones within the Vong hierarchy. Disgraced and seen as a true abomination for following the cult of Yun-Sanit, a false self-proclaimed god in their eyes, a horrid mistake. Instead of outright killing him, the Yuuzhan Vong truly wanted him to suffer and learn what it meant to be the bottom of the barrel. Spit upon by even the slaves. Relentless torture through methods unfathomable to the minds of most beings that didn't know the ways of the Vong. Ripping off his beastly appendages to purposely replace them with inferior ones at best. Leaving the once Darth a complete mess, constantly falling apart physically, but mentally as well; usually left constrained within an Embrace of Pain, in a completely pitch black room that robbed him of all his senses. Going as far to even cut him off from the force almost entirely. 

  There was one thing they could never take away from him, something ancient and terrifying that laid dormant within the back of his mind, a demon of sorts, Yun-Sanit. When Zerafon first revealed himself to the Triumvirate, he had slowly and methodically been indoctrinating his chosen disciples, his children. Leaving behind a shard of himself within each of his Dread Knights, a way of letting them know he would be with them eternally; for as long as there was a single individual that worshiped him, he'd never die. Not a wound in the force, but an infection, a tainted power waiting to be tapped into. With each passing day, that demon came further to the forefront; patiently bidding its time to inevitably ascend Mal'kumbu Yo'gand. To take on the mantle of Yun-Sanit for himself and bring about the destruction and rebirth of every galaxy his gaze fell upon. To create paradise in his image no matter the costs.

  Soon time itself became fluid, days felt like weeks, and weeks to months; years felt like a millennia. The Vong over time seemingly abandoned their new play-thing, to let him shiver up and die in seclusion, agony and hardly even a shell of his former self. A grave mistake. -Mal'kumbu Yo'gand at this point wasn't even conscious anymore, nearing the point of truly giving in to death once again and it's cold embrace. This was when the beast within him finally awoke, visions and vivid dreams that he had seen once before came flooding into his mind, jarring him awake. There was no guessing, he knew what this was, Yun-Sanit. Noticing that familiar black inky substance began forcing its way through every pore and orifice he had, and slowly began consuming him. 

  What exited those catacombs was something truly terrible, something that even managed to strike fear within the Yuuzhan Vong's most seasoned warriors. A roiling, miasmic mass of twisting black tendrils and a gaping wide maw that offered nothing but jagged teeth. Tenuous in composition that its limbs and tendrils vanished as quick as they materialized; its very form dividing constantly into a surplus of smaller abominations that are either reabsorbed into its monstrous form, or that escaped to some hideous life elsewhere. Unleashing a hellish, high-pitched scream that deafened everyone nearby, sending a shock wave that would encompass the entire planet several times over; laying utter waste to the land, tainting any plant-life as well. Yun-Sanit left his mark, a message to all that opposed him.  

( WORK IN PROGRESS!~ )

Armament

Weaponry

• Amphistaff - Were genetically engineered serpentine creatures that served as the primary anti-personnel weapons of the Yuuzhan Vong.
• Lightsaber - A rather crude and standard single-bladed lightsaber design, an elongated handle to compensate for Mal'kumbu Yo'gand's monstrous claws. Containing one of his very first crimson bled kyber crystals during his time as an apprentice. ( Now Destroyed, crystal was kept! )

People

Relationships (Always Updating!)

• Siyala (Morrigan) - Kept a close eye on him during his time as an I.S.M. trooper, noticing his potential and eventually influenced him to train under her harsh wing and make the transition to Sith. She is one of the few he deeply respects and perhaps even fears due to some. . . aggressive training exercises. "It builds character." She tends to repeat often. Ever since his ascension to Darth Victus continues to hold a greatly held respect for his now former master, never forgetting her lessons and experiences she pushed him through, many of them forged him into the monster he became now. A proud moment in her life she'll happily admit.
• Ama'Rai - Generally had a tense initial meeting, mostly coming down to many verbal arguments during his time as a trooper. Eventually they actually grew on each other, talking like somewhat civil beings and able to stand being in the same room as each other. One might even call them. . . "Friends"? D'aaaaaawww.
• Ashla Tey - The only one that managed to find a way to his heart for quite some time, their relationship growing to one of intense love for one another in secret. Always working closely together and even serving in a battle against the Yuuzhan Vong attack on Bengat. However, their love ended with as some would say, an expected tragedy. She died by Victus' hands, eventually being viewed as one of the chains holding him back from his own power and personal goals. Nothing, absolutely nothing would stand in his way. But, the young Darth will always keep her within his mind, forever. "In this final dance: blades, tears and blood shall be shed.... But my tears were the first to fall."
• Zerafon - Serving as the Jen'ari's hand within the Triumvirate, Victus strives every single day to train and fight for knowledge from the Dark Lord. Their interactions always seems like chaos is merely a hair-trigger away from manifesting between them. Their duels tremendously destructive and brutal, never hesitating to outright try and obliterate one another. Clearly there's a level of mutual respect for each other, but, something just seems. . off. Whenever the two are together, intense sensations of dread and a vile stench of death follows them both like a plague. Clearly there's more to be discovered.
• Lunasa - His current Apprentice, a young and naive woman he met upon Byss, as she actually approached him, desperate for knowledge and teaching. At first the Darth thought little about her, thinking her plights insignificant, however she slowly proved her potential and willingness to sacrifice for the sake of revenge against those that wronged her so greatly. A swift learner and obedient servant to his will thus far, but Victus can't help but wonder where their path together will lead them, for now, her training continues to intensify and her personality along with it, growing in confidence.
• Lady Vestra - The mysterious Enchani Sith and the Darth had extremely hostile interactions the few times they crossed paths during his time as an I.S.M. trooper. Generally ending with a force-choke, or him getting thrown from the Citadel entrance bridge once. Good times as you can see.
• Thalia Spintrus - A true thorn in his side, KOJ Jedi Knight and personal rival to Darth Victus, they've had many battles with one another, scarring and beating each other a hair's width from death countless times. Anytime battle occurs between Jedi and Sith, they both purposely seek each other out relentlessly to settle their on-going score.
• Lady Quinn - A rather odd-ball for an apprentice, finding the small possessed echani female quite literally playing with, and eating roaches in a dumpster filled alleyway, drowning in dark-side energies, driving the girl utterly mad with power. Quinn proved to be a handful for the Darth during her time as an apprentice, outright trying to kill her master on a daily basis and sewing chaos everywhere she went, upon enemies and allies. Many will admit she seems untamable, and even happier she's on their side, for now.
• Lady Jade - Head of JadVa Bio-technologies, Darth Victus took the meticulous care to create an alternate personality and physical appearance through Sith Alchemy, creating Jacob Rookswood to infiltrate her massive company that assists her funding in ruling over the planet of Onderon. Victus leads his team with a secretly facility hidden somewhere in the dark depths of the planet, slowly seeping in influences of the Triumvirate, attempting to uncover whatever mysteries they can whilst remaining undercover.
• Cortaan Yulan - Their relationship is currently one of pure business as their orders have made an alliance. Knowing very little about the man, he does intend to study him when opportunities arise. Something about Yulan seems off, naturally beyond never seeing his true identity beyond the "mask".
• Darth Ulterius - Early on in Victus' time serving the Empire, they generally never acknowledged one another until he reached the rank of Lord. Their conversations were usually short and full of tit-for-tat insults and criticizing each other. They've yet to engage in a dual, but lately tensions have heightened between them and their orders, and Victus would be lying if he said he wouldn't snatch an opportunity to behead the Emperor's Hand. Perhaps they got off on the wrong foot?
• Shan Connell - One of the very few that showed him compassion during his time as an Acolyte and Apprentice, a very skilled cybernetics specialist and overall medical professional that was the sole individual who blessed Victus with his new augmented body. Despite her ties to the Light-Side, he can't help but at least look the other way, for a while at least.
• Darth Shadowsoul - A fellow Darth within the Triumvirate, and respectable warrior to say the least, yet another individual he enjoys testing his skills against. Their time together was mostly spent constantly pushing each other's limits in combat, perhaps even creating a light brotherly bond through bloodshed.
• Lady Nemesis - One of the few people Victus could call a close-friend and fellow ally within the Triumvirate. They constantly test each other's combat ability and always pushing each other's buttons, but in the end they hold a very deep respect for one another as they compliment one another's weakness'. As time progressed and their paths inevitably split, it was hinted they considered each other fair game now.
• Darth Infestus - As expected, he knows near next to nothing about the Shi'ido. For some odd reason, Darth Victus greatly desires an extended conversation with the Dark Lord. Assuming he has quite the library of tales.
• Darth Sar'Rai - Just recently begun speaking with the Arkanian, finding her disdain for idle conversation rather amusing. So far they seem to be able to get along, slowly but surely opening up to one another and holding extended conversations in private. Anything beyond that is unknown.
• Dark Lord Destius - Very mixed emotions flood Victus' mind every time the Emperor creeped into his thoughts. Unknown, further research is required.

Appearance

• About 70-75% of his body is machine ( No Longer )
• Can almost always be caught humming some sort of unknown tune. The same one every time ("Pink Cigarette" by Mr. Bungle)
• Extremely darkened bags beneath his eyes at all times from his intense lack of sleep, almost noticeable from a far distance
• Despite his rather heavy weight due to the cybernetics, armor and weaponry, he keeps his footsteps extremely quiet, nearly lacking in volume entirely. ( No Longer )
• Has a full-set of polished, and sharpened durasteel and cortosis platted dental implants in replacement for normal teeth. ( No longer )

Behind the scenes (OOC)

• I gained many inspirations from various characters and individuals for Dimitri. as he is essentially the same character I've role-played throughout many other forums/mmos/games/sims in SL.
• It's fair to say that if Dimitri Dragovar had a theme song, it'd be: "Abyss Watchers" Dark Souls 3 OST, and perhaps "Machine" by Born of Osiris
• To generally get in the proper mood during RP, I listen to a lot of Classical, Soundscapes, Bob Dylan, Various Metal Songs, and such
• Besides the Second Life screenshots, some pictures on here representing my character are NOT MY ORIGINAL WORKS! Google works wonders.
• META-GAMING WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.