A spoonful of medicine ( Kära Vi'dreya)

[Azrakiel]

“There is poison in the fang of the serpent, in the​

mouth of the fly and in the sting​

of a scorpion; but the wicked man is​

saturated with it.”​

~ Chanakya​

​

​

Attracting no obvious attentions as he strode passed the bazaars and kiosks of Theed, a faint smile seemed to grace his lips Why they constantly demand that poor weather precedes acts of depravity in the vids is beyond me; if every death or crime were committed in the dead of night, then my stock and trade would be easily found out now wouldn't it? Squinting momentarily against the brightness of the sun, he slowly began to traverse the labyrinthine alleyways and backstreets in strict confidence that came in dual measure from constant training and arrogance in his own abilities Perhaps if they have a Jedi in their employ or were even aware of what was about to transpire… Either way, the payment for this will more than cover my travel off world; I've spent far too long here and Korriban calls. Reaching his destination, he barely withheld the scoff on his lips as he sliced through the system with the ease of an individual that had done it in a million different places a million times before. Taking the briefest of moments to collect his thoughts and allow his energies to convalesce, the Dark Side seemed to almost leap at the opportunity to enshroud him as he stepped within.

The secret to exploiting the Darkside for concealment was not to simply disappear from view, which had its merits at times, but to utilize it in such a fashion that others seemed oblivious to your passing. It was what often separated the rank amateur from the master and was one of the few abilities that Azrakiel could utilize to its utmost. Slipping passed the doorman and the few patrons that hadn’t decided to partake in the festivities upstairs, his well tooled boot rested lightly on the first stair I was instructed to see him suffer in order to gain my bonus… If his modus operandi is right, he often sleeps after exerting himself. Absently licking his lips, he simply turned on his heel, and strode out into the back streets once more with none the wiser “Always ensure that orders are followed to the letter to avoid punishment” His words soft and scarcely noticeable, even to himself, it had been another of his previous owner’s rules that had escaped his lips as he glared towards the wall in contemplation “Fifteen feet… Maybe twenty-five? It’s of no consequence now.” The trick wasn’t to simply scale the wall, that in and unto itself was easy, no it was scaling it silently that would prove the obstacle. Squatting down for the briefest moments, he simply propelled himself upward, even as that ever so sweet burning of the Darkside coursed through muscle and tendon…

Tucking into a ball and rolling as he struck the roof, nary a sound was heard as he stood to his feet in a half crouch even as the tell-tale sound of someone readjusting their stance compelled him to roll to his left “Iridonian…” Glancing at the markings that dictated both clan and ancestry, he could have cared less; it was an obstacle that needed to be surpassed. Moving with a speed that seemed almost impossible for anyone, let alone someone of his stature, the blur of his hands striking against meat and bone made for a deception of the eyes; the Iridonian was well trained but Azrakiel had been trained from birth to kill, and that was exactly what was about to occur. As both beings weighed and measured each other, it had been the slightest of extensions on his opponent’s part that proved to be the mistake as a hand, strengthened and propelled by the Force, chopped at the throat of Azrakiel’s opponent. There was no gurgling, no outcry as the most delicate of bones were crushed in the Iridonian’s throat, leaving it to gasp both in pain and for air. Grasping his antagonist underneath the chin with one hand and the back of its head with the other, a murmured consolation of “Shshshshs, it’s time to sleep.” Seemed to escape Azrakiel’s lips in a mocking fashion as he offered solace to the would-be guard, before snapping a neck with brutal efficiency and loud crack.

Lowering the body to the rooftop with an almost gentle hand, it was a simple matter of gaining entry to the crawl space via the exterior access point; he had scoped out this place several times prior to actually committing himself to the task at hand He prefers the Rutian and always sees her... If memory serves, her room is... Pausing as the sound of squeals and raucous laughter assaulted his ears, he settled in for the long wait Seems this is the right room after all. Not particularly interested in what was occurring in the room below, slow measured movements allowed him to withdraw a spool of fairly flexible wire and a small vial that had been heavily sealed the night prior; now it was a waiting game.

Whether it had been hours or simply felt like it, the courtesan had just left the lumbering oaf sleeping in the boudoir. Slowly lowering the coiled wire lower and lower, he was scarcely concerned with his target actually ingesting the poison; synox was dangerous on contact and not simply on consumption… Then again it was better safe than sorry as the wire rested just above his target’s lips Despite the threats and outside worries, this is the most dangerous part of all… Slowly unlocking the stopper from the vial, three drops were slowly placed upon the wire and observed as they began to trek down the line into the waiting maw of an impotent potentate.

Watching as the first application dropped across the side of his target’s mouth, Azrakiel refused to move; he was committed now and his only hope was that the remaining drops struck the target dead on. Viewing the wire take on a glistening sheen as more and more of the toxic substance slid downwards, a faint smirk slowly formed on his features as the target seemed to lick the offending substance as it struck the upper lip Five minutes, ten at the most..

Keeping time in his mind’s eye, it seemed his estimate had been off by a minute as his target began to thrash amidst the silken sheets “First seizures…” Watching as spit and foam began to form and flow he continued his cold dissertation “Then foaming at the mouth.” Placing both the venom and wire within a secured metal container, the sound of a death rattle reached even his ears “Finally expiration and a rictus grin that is an unmistakable sign of synox poisoning.”

Azrakiel wasted no time in simply stepping off of the roof once he extracted himself from his hiding place; an act that would leave normal men with shattered knees only resulted with a slight creak before he quickly disposed of any incriminating evidence and disappeared into the maze of back alley streets With this, I should have enough to leave this place… Upon reaching the safety of the business wards of Theed, as opposed to the pleasure palaces of the slums he had just came from, an encrypted comm message was sent to his silent benefactor as he strode into one of the few restaurants that didn't require a dress code “I will order in a moment… Leave me till I call.” Dismissing the server as quickly as she had arrived, he couldn't shake the feeling that things had happened far too easy The kill was clean and there is no doubt of that… But it felt like someone had eyes on me the entire time… Paranoia I suppose… Leaning back with his chair against the wall, he simply scooped up the menu and began to project the image of a man out on the town after a long day; it was the truth after all…

 

[Lief]

The lower levels of a city were always deemed its worst... Of course, that depended on your view point. What was more horrific to view, the miserable lives of those who barely made ends meat or the ungrateful, pompous lives of those who sat above the squalor, complaining about trivial matters while feeding their hounds a better meal than the former had ever seen? To this particular Sith Lord the latter was less appreciable, it irked her like nothing else, not least because on a planet such as Naboo the right to such a lifestyle was not earned; there was no gaining or exchange in power, no struggle which ended in a cathartic release. Instead it was simply handed to them, like an heirloom. Such was not power, not truly. If Kära had her own way the Galaxy would not work like this, and while her influence spread far enough it was not consistent enough to make a large enough impact... Yet.

And so she wandered through the aforementioned squalor. While she did not render aid as a Jedi might to those who were suffering, she did give them very minor encouragements. For only through suffering can one better themselves. Better to face the hardships and truths of life than to hide behind a false idol and fancies, pretending that everything is golden when in truth you are just as miserable as the rest. Greed breeds greed, but suffering hardens man against the worst. And she could see it in the faces of so many, all it would take is a spark to ignite them into uproar, to force their inner will to power to act in an attempt to heighten their position. As much as it may have seemed otherwise, the gutter-men were no narcissists; they were the hopeful future, waiting to turn society on its head.

Sadly Kära could not stand reminiscing on the juxtaposing qualities of life and society. Her target had just stepped into a side-alley and thus she too must do the same. From a safely measured distance the shadow that was Kära Vi'dreya broke away from the wall and merged into the rabble. The streets were packed, there was some sort of festivity taking place. No one noticed the figure make her way across their lovely little line. Instead of walking with them she subtly edged to the alley. And then she disappeared within, effortlessly refinding her place in the shadows. The alleyway itself acted like a labyrinth which sought to lose her within, to trap and confine her until the end of days. But like so many it had fatally underestimated her abilities.

Instead the woman stretched her senses and awareness in the Force. Whoever was traversing this alleyway ahead of her knew their path, they were sure-footed. And thus she drew upon his actions, using them to reflect her own path. Her mental supremacy likewise allowed her to keep tabs upon his actions, and soon she found herself outside a cantina-like establishment. Likely one with... Entertainment. How Kära loathed such places, it made her sick to think of how weak minded some men were, to partake in acts involving narcotics, gambling and lustful fornication. But she could not control the actions of all men, only those she had broken and subjugated. Again it was another matter of if only she ruled the Galaxy - how different things would be.

She did not make a move, for she felt a sudden indecisiveness in her target. Instead she waited outside, well hidden, and watched for any sign of movement. As expected he exited the establishment, and when he was out of sight she began to follow. Watching as he pounced up onto the rooftop the woman simply smiled. There was no need for her to follow, instead she took a few steps back again and approached another angle of the alleyway. Her sensory tabs on the man deduced where he ended up, and thus she found an area of land wherein she could watch. Not him specifically, the hiding place had been carefully chosen, but it means she would know when he appeared again. Kära had no intentions of halting his assassination, however successful it might prove. She was not here to save weak-minded fools who sought to eat, drink and sleep their way into an early grave. Just one person. Him.

It took quite a while before she felt one of the nearby lives begin to dwindle, panic shooting through the mind of his target. She waited a moment, spotting the body of her own target launch itself from the rooftops. This was the easy part, because the moment he made it back into the crowds he would have to begin acting normal. Therefore all the shadow of a Sith Lord had to do was silently follow and likewise merge. Through the alley she followed until they made it away from one cesspool to another. No more were they surrounded by the squalor, instead it was the scum. Those who felt they were entitled just because of their Father's Father's Great Great Grandpa. Or something along those lines. It was like another Serenno.

When he slipped into a restaurant she followed suit, slipping the hood down from her person; no one here would know who she was, no one would recognise her, as she had always stuck to the shadows: even when she ran a whole sector of Sith Space it had been through other people. Settling herself in a booth away from him yet with a good enough view of his person she ordered a simple glass of blue milk and waited. The drink went untouched, instead she simply watched to see what he would do next; afterall, things were never certain in this Galaxy.

@[member="Azrakiel"]

 

[Azrakiel]

Complacency and the urge to rest on ones laurels was oft times the downfall of many a man or woman in his profession; the job is finished time to relax, the job is finished time to let loose, the job is never finished. Scoffing slightly at the thought, he was determined to remain in the here and now The moment you let your guard down my would be assassins and killers, your dead... Casually taking in the early evening's clientèle, he dismissed the majority of them for what they were; fops who were slumming it in the business quarter when they had no real idea what a slum truly was, merchants trying to put on airs of importance but only succeeding to fill the general area with their stink, and then there were the few that were using this place as a cover just as he was. Interrupted from his musings as the server arrived once more, he finally allowed a simple whisper to escape his lips "Water, cheese and bread..." Those three particular foodstuffs were next to impossible to tamper with, which was exactly the point; after using poison as the method of dispatching a target, it didn't hurt to be aware of what one was putting into their body. Everyone had their quirks, it just so happened that nearly all of Azrakiel's revolved around hitting the mark and surviving to never talk about it the next day.

As the would be playwright scurried off to fill what had to be the simplest entrée of the evening, Azrakiel's gaze seemed to settle on the last cross section of peoples that formed the little triad he had labelled; the Devaronian in flashy silks was a spice dealer, that much was obvious considering the stable of would be whores sitting on either side of him with their burnt/torn lips and cold doll like eyes Give me the pain of real existence instead of the fantasy world those dregs enjoy; easier to go through life knowing pain then masquerading as if you have no suffering. Sliding a small amount of credits into his server's hand as the food arrived, he quickly took up the boule and, while down-playing his action as if he were merely taking the time to enjoy his bread, he checked for any sort of tampering for a long moment before he was indeed satisfied. Tearing open the bread with a slow deliberation, his gaze extended to another that was seated to the far right A freshly corrupt politician or businessman looking to make an exchange; from the well tailored suit and the trembling hands to his constant gazing at the time, one could assume he wasn't an old hand at this game. Placing the smallest piece of bread between his lips, he chewed methodically as if expecting some sort of reaction. When none came, a casual glance towards Kära sent the klaxon alarms off in his head; it wasn't her personal appearance perse but the little things that seemed to paint a greater picture Her drink is untouched for the most part and while she hasn't been overt about it, her gaze seems fixed on my location....

Tearing his eyes away, she could have been any number of things; an old enemy or employer gone vindictive, an associate of his owners, or even a family member looking for vengeance Either way I am not about to sit here and become meat for the proverbial beast... The inexperienced individual would try to run immediately and cause a great scene, while an overconfident man would confront her directly; I am neither of these things. Continuing on with his meal, to all outward appearances he seemed oblivious to her intentions, as he motioned for the server to approach "I must ask you to do something for me, a small thing really but it would garner you a far larger tip then you were expecting... Does that peak your interest?" Nearly whispered tones, that would have been hard to hear at the best of times, forced the wait staff to draw closer in an effort to understand as a slight exchange was made and instructions given. Watching as the server scurried off with what appeared to be a wrapped napkin, Azrakiel simply returned to his meal with relish.

Mentally counting down the minutes, he watched as his previous server now slowly approached her table carrying a curiously shaped glass with long stem and wide circumference. Blocking the distance between Azrakiel and his would be tracker, he wasted no time in allowing the ebony tendrils of Dark side energy to flow through tendon and bone, vein and meridians. Not so much to make a daring exhibition of combat skills and not so much for disappearing from all sight; no, this adroit application of the force encouraged other people to forget he was there, to forget what it was he looked like, to forget his importance (if any). Slowly rising from the table, he simply moved towards the egress point he had chosen at random upon his arrival here and made his bid for freedom.

As for the server? The glass itself had been empty save for two things. One was a small note that had been dictated word for word by Azrakiel while the second item appeared to be an air foil or sharp of some sort; either he had just called someone's bluff, or scared the frack out of some pour woman that may or may not have found him interesting Better to have done a thing and perhaps scare someone off rather than allow a thought of 'What if' to fester in the future; killers and cops come in many shapes and forms, I'm not about to let a pretty face distract me from my goals. As for the note? It was short, sweet, and to the point;

Why your watching me is anyone's guess, but if it were my guess ​

then perhaps we should discuss these things elsewhere; follow me ​

if you can, that way I may have the slightest inkling of whom I am ​

dealing with.​

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

She remained in place, swirling the contents of the glass with one hand. Truth be told she didn't actually like blue milk, but it was considerably nicer than any alcoholic beverage which could be offered... She abhorred alcohol and those who drank it. Yet the man she was trailing... Well he didn't eat anything outside of the basic supplements. Definitely the right person, she concurred. At first she hadn't been quite so certain, but the more she watched the more aware of his tactics she became.

And then she became aware that he knew... There was a nagging feeling within her and it would not go away, and the odd way he was being towards the barmaid he had previously dismissed only added to her suspicions. Another individual came to her with a glass she didn't ask for, and through the Force - despite his best efforts at covering himself up - she watched or more sensed as he left the establishment. She didn't even have to read the note, but for the sake of civility she did.

Rising up the woman tossed a credit chip down to the table for the untouched milk and left. The moment she stepped outside and into the crowd, who were all too busy with their own lives to realise she was there, she dispersed. Her whole being, both visually and in terms of her presence in the Force, was gone. Instead the woman was immersed in the Force, an old trick she had learnt as a child. Making her way through to the alleyway she watched and waited, seeing how he responded to her lack of showing. How would he respond when someone did not play to his show, to his expectations?

She had to wonder if this man had some sort of psychopathic or sociopathic tendency she did not yet know about. It was for this reason alone that she chose to wait as opposed to showing herself to him immediately.

@[member="Azrakiel"]