A Wretched Hive of Scum and Villainy (Joza)

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


The location was a warehouse deep inside the Coruscant underground, the parallel world that existed alongside the world of opportunity and affluence that most associated with the gleaming city-planet. The Coruscant police, already overworked by all the disruption the Sith-Republic War had caused, did not venture here. Nor did the Jedi. Few of the denizens of this district had an ID or were registered. Here, the gangs ruled.


Armed figures met inside the building. Boots, black leather dusters, complimented by the arrogant swagger and 'I'm a badarse, don't mess with me' vibes one might associate with the criminal scum that held sway over areas such as this one.


"Ms. Typhos, I wasn't expecting to meet you in person," the Rodian smuggler spoke in his alien tongue. He was surprisingly well-dressed, looking a bit out of place in the rather dilapidated surroundings. Two goons who looked like bodybuilders flanked him. Their function was obvious.


"I like being hands-on," the cyborg replied curtly. Her brown eyes looked human...but no human eyes could be so cold. So expressionless. They reflected little beyond an almost feral savagery. An unignited lightsabre rested upon her utility belt, while a disruptor pistol was tucked into her holster. "You got the merchandise?" The way it was phrased made it more of a demand than a query.


"Of course, you know my credentials. I'm an honest merchant. You won't find a better supplier. Just ask the Cartel." Was he trying just a bit too hard? Enyo was already getting tired of his strange accent. "You have my fee?"


"The sum we discussed. You first." She did not raise her voice, but there was an imperious quality to her tone.


One of the goons got just a little twitchy. His hand strayed slightly towards his gun, before a gesture from boss halted him. Just as well, because the minions who'd accompanied the cyborg tensed as well.


"Lay it out," the Rodian ordered impatiently. Quickly, bags were brought forth and laid down. "Polstine spice. Highly prized, highly expensive and highly illegal. It's rarer than hell. Not easy to get since the darn Jedi planted their flag on Kessel."


The cyborg's jaw clenched, just a bit, when the alien brought up the Silver Jedi. There was a flicker of something on her face, but as soon as her expression darkened, it turned to stone again. "Take a look."


Upon her command, a minion examined the merchandise, using some sort of device to scan it. Looking back at his boss, the Trandoshan gave her a thumbsup after a few moments. His fingers were made of durasteel. "It checks out, boss."


"Thank you. Kollmer, give our friend what he deserves," she said dismissively.


"That's my fee, right?" the Rodian exclaimed a little nervously. "You won't find a better supplier. Surely we can continue to be good business partners. I have many friends," nervousness rolled off him like a wave, his goons stepped forward, hands reaching closer to their weapons...then the cyborg's Devaronian minion produced a briefcase.


"Relax, stop yammering and check the briefcase."


Cautiously the Rodian opened the briefcase, while his minions kept their eyes on his customer. He took a step back when he saw that it was full of credits...and a neatly preserved head wrapped in foil. The head in question belonged to that of a blue skinned, female Twi'lek. Part of her lekku had been shorn off. "Spirits...that's..."


"The queen who ratted your brother out? Yes. If there is one thing I cannot stand, then it is traitors. You're a good supplier, so I decided to throw in a little extra and beef up your fee," the cyborg interjected, in a tone that suggested that sort of thing was normal in her book.


"That is, uh, thoughtful. It will go a long way to helping the family. How did you...get to her? We've been trying to make the little shutta pay for months," judging by his expression, the Rodian was unsure whether to be disgusted, grateful or seriously unnerved. Possibly all three.


Enyo shrugged with feigned casualness. "Turns out, Witness Protection does a lousy job at providing protection."


"What's the catch?"


"There's none. Just keep supplying me...and keep your ears on the ground. You hear so many things. If there's anything that concerns me...I would like to know. As you say, you have many friends. Then you and I will be best of partners."

 

[Joza Perl]

Coruscant may have been the ‘Jewel of the Galaxy’ but even it was not exempt from having a few districts that could only be defined as unsavory. Few advanced planets could really claim that they had no slums, no low income area where crime and prostitution were the main fare. Any thoughts otherwise would have been considered naïve, at least from where Joza was standing. Growing up in the seediest district of the Galaxy’s Party Planet lead to a fascination with poorer communities on otherwise wealthy planets. They were nearly always there and there were always black markets as pretty much every species save for a few desired sex and spice to some degree. The wealthy always had unpleasant things going on behind doors.

She’d been carefully working with Indigo District on Zeltros and a few neighborhoods in Nar Shaddaa to create accessible jobs and assistance programs, making sure to skirt her way around gentrification. Heartbeat House had interests in other areas of Coruscant with the opening of clubs Dusk and Dawn with [member="Slevin Thawne"], but since the Alliance had gotten their paperwork in order after wrenching Coruscant from the hands of the One Sith, Joza found her chance to creep in and survey the underground as a precursor to any future building plans.

Coincidentally she was in the same warehouse where [member="Enyo Typhos"] was meeting a supplier, only she was a floor above them. The Zeltron was in street clothes so as to not draw too much attention to herself (a bit hard when your skin and hair were that vibrant) but her people were not uncommon fixtures in places like this. She’d crept as silently as she could along the floorboards when she started to hear voices beneath her feet, calling on the Force to help cushion her steps and absorb the sound as she drew closer to where the meeting was taking place.

[SIZE=9pt]“…As you say, you have many friends. Then you and I will be best of partners."[/SIZE]​

The first voice she was able to comprehend was shockingly familiar, and so Joza knelt down gently as she was just above the only other occupants of the warehouse. Scarlet brows knit as she shifted back slightly to try and get a good look at the woman speaking through the gaps in the floorboards. It came as less of a surprise that the familiar voice belonged to the dead ringer for Siobhan Kerrigan, the cyborg whose memory drifted through her mind every so often. She was a woman who appeared harsh and blunt but had an unexpected side of…friendliness? Whatever it was, it had likely kept Enyo from ripping off heads that night in Blush. Curious, she leaned forward in hopes of getting a closer look, not yet noticing the contents of the suitcase.

The floorboards beneath her creaked as she moved, giving her a simple preamble before they gave way under the stress of her weight and dumped the Zeltron unceremoniously to the ground and onto the suitcase containing wads of cash and severed, dismembered Twi’lek head. She yelped as she fell and groaned as her body splayed between the two heavily armed groups, laying dazed for a moment before quickly picking herself up and—

“SON OF A BITH WHO THE HELL LETS FLOORBOARDS ROT THAT BADLY!”​

​

Growling in pain she righted herself before her eyes fell on the macabre payment plan that Enyo had produced earlier, brows rising high at the sight of the head while the rest of her face twisted into a disgusted cringe. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a detached head but…well, she hadn’t expected that today.

“Sorry, sorry.”​

Realizing that she was likely in the middle of a drug deal, Joza scrambled to her feet and held both hands up.

​

“I’ll just be on my way. Carry on.”​

Like hell that was going to work.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


One moment, Joza had been on top of things. Now she'd fallen right into the pit! Suffice to say matters had taken a dramatic turn. The moment the floorboard collapsed and the Zeltron descended from her lofty position, guns were raised.


Anywhere she looked, Joza would be staring at the barrel of blaster pistol or a disruptor. In all fairness...it was difficult to avoid certain impressions when you literally crashed a drug deal. Plenty of credits had fallen out of the suitcase and were now spread across the floor.


"It's a set-up! She's a cop," the Rodian shrieked in his unusually high-pitched voice. His hand had gone for a heavy blaster pistol that was absurdly large for his small hand. It looked rather melodramatic.


Enyo acted first. The cyborg moved in what seemed like a blur with the speed of lightning. If Joza had the time to think back to their encounter in Club Blush, she'd remember that Enyo had been slow and awkward in her movements, moving with what could be described as a zombie like gait. This was not the case anymore.


Before anyone else could act, Enyo would grab Joza, attempting to seize her by the throat with her powerful bionic fingers and pull her into the air to hold her in place through droid super strength. The key word being attempt, since auto-hits are frowned upon. Unless they involve Elpsis making out with someone, but this one digresses. A disruptor beam narrowly missed the Zeltron, impacting upon the floor close to her and burning through it.


"Stop being wet hens, take your fee and get out. I'll handle this," she growled at her business partners, not taking her eyes off the interloper. If Enyo's manoeuvre had worked, the grip would be very unpleasant. Of course, the Zeltron had techniques of her own to defend herself against cyborgs who violated her neck space. Still...her head was still attached to her torso. "You got ten seconds, before I lose my patience and break you. What the feth are you doing here?" for a moment, Enyo's eyes flashed...like those of a droid. They were the colour of blood.

 

[Joza Perl]

Instinct snapped the Zeltron out of her stupor quickly, yet not quickly enough to avoid the approaching cyborg woman. Enyo’s fingers wrapped tightly around Joza’s very organic throat and lifted her into the air with no large amount of effort. The blaster bolt that fizzled somewhere to the side was at the back of her mind it best, the majority of her attention focused on the familiar woman who had her in a near-death grip and the cold look in her eyes that said she would not hesitate to constrict her hand a centimeter more and cut off the intruder’s air supply.

Immediately her hands flew up to Enyo’s wrist, wrapping around it an attempt to put some weight on the wrist joint and ease her grip—the clone’s limbs may have been cybernetic but Joza made sure to layer her own cybernetic hand first in an attempt to match her strength. At the very least, she was trying to make herself a bit more comfortable.

Still, she couldn’t help but be at least a little surprised when she felt the hard metal of Enyo’s prosthetic. She looked so…human, always threw her when enhancements blended seamlessly despite the fact that she’d spent the night in bed with the metal woman.

“I was checking out some of the buildings in this neighborhood for…another club, maybe a clinic if the area…ergh, needs it.” It took some struggle to get the words out properly but she focused on keeping her nerves in check lest her throat begin to tighten from anxiety. “Didn’t…know you were here, don’t want to interfere. Won’t say anything, trust me.”

It was the truth, as Joza was one to turn a blind eye to criminal involvement that did not involve innocent lives. Spice and arms being traded for thousands of credits? So long as it didn't infringe on her interests, she wouldn't care.

She gasped, starting to choke on her own saliva as her body tried to force out a cough and clear away the obstruction. Joza had no idea if Enyo was a mentalist or not, but she unwove every mental barrier she had in place in hopes that if the other woman decided to search her mind, she’d find that she was telling the truth. Letting down your guard in that respect made it easier to focus on not dying from asphyxiation.

As an extra touch, she did her best to reach out to Enyo’s mind, inviting her to look into her own.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


Ouch! Poor Jozie had only wanted to inspect a warehouse, now she was being choked by a mean cyborg. Good thing she had a high Persuade skill. Anyhow, we shall move on with the plot. As Enyo felt Joza resist and try to ease the grip, she instinctively tightened her hold on the Zeltron's throat. She was not only drawing on her considerable cyborg strength, but also the Force. Though she was a machine, she could still manipulate the energy field. Neither a true machine, nor an organic being, she was somewhere in between. A grotesque hybrid that was stuck in eternal limbo.


Then the Zeltron spoke. The cyborg stiffened when she felt Joza touch her mind, misunderstanding her intent. "Stay out of my mind," she growled fiercely, pushing back on instinct. Like her template, Enyo was not a skilled mentalist - and she lacked her mirror's experience. Thus it was a brute force manoeuvre. Through the Force, her aura would resemble that of a barely tamed predator. But predators could be handled, if one was careful. It was a difference between them and mindless beasts. But they could just as easily lick your hand as bite it off.


But some of Joza's words resonated with the cyborg. Enyo could not read minds, but she could tell that she was genuine. The grip around the Zeltron's throat loosened, allowing her to breathe better. Dislodging Joza's grip from her hand, Enyo let go and dropped the Zeltron, letting her fall to the ground. However, she did not take her eyes off her.


"She's cute, Boss. I know a lady who'd pay a small fortune for a Pinkie with those legs," the Devaronian thug spoke, looking at Joza in a leecherous fashion that suggested immoral intent and impure thoughts. "Unless you want her for yourself."


"Kollmer, shut your trap. Unless you want to lose your tongue," Enyo snapped coldly. There was a beautiful savageness to her expression. Her voice was as harsh as the crack of a whip. Enough to make the Devaronian almost jump. "Get out and bring the merchandise to base. Cassius, go with him."


"Got it, Boss. I'll make sure Horns doesn't sample the merchandise," the Trandoshan hissed obediently. Closer inspection would reveal that in addition to his right hand, his left ear was a prothesis as well.


The two goons quickly vacated the premise, taking the 'merchandise' with them. This left the two ladies. As the door slammed shut behind them, Enyo scrutinised Joza. It was difficult to read the cyborg's expression because her face looked like it was carved out of stone. Still, being an empath, Joza would probably be able to glean surface thoughts.


Truth be told, the hybrid was a bit uncertain how to approach or address her. The Zeltron had been one of the very few people who'd shown her kindness, without harbouring ill intent. To a degree, Enyo was fond of her. "A lot has changed since Zeltros," she said finally. And the prize for considerable understatement goes to Enyo Typhos.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza gasped as soon as she was dropped, lungs swelling fully with air for the first time in a short while—sweet, sweet air! Oh how she’d come to appreciate breathing comfortably within the past few moments. The Zeltron had the foresight to brace herself with her hands so that she landed on one knee, wrists and kneecap aching a bit from the impact but that was at the back of her mind for now. Instead she stood upright as quickly as she could, a little off kilter for a split second before her focus returned.

Her eyes first locked on Enyo’s, recognizing the cold predatory stare. Not a hungry beast, but a territorial one. One that was sizing her up to determine the threat. It was a look she’d been given plenty of times and one she’d handed out herself on occasion, but for now she played the part of the alert and well-meaning intruder. From Enyo’s surface thoughts and reading the nuances of the situation she gathered that the cyborg woman did not intend to hurt her if she did not deem it necessary. Or so she had hoped, anyway.

Green gaze snapped to the Devaronian and her neutral features gave way to a scowl almost immediately. She instinctively wet her lips to give him the sort of tongue lashing he wouldn’t enjoy but Enyo beat her to the verbal punch and shooed her goons away.

Joza couldn’t decide if it was more or less comforting that they were now alone. Her fingers drifted up to her throat where the gently rimmed the reddened flesh around her neck. Bruising would form within the next few hours at least, no doubt about that. The thought made her scowl fade slower, but it wasn’t exactly directed at Enyo. She couldn’t blame the woman for her aggression considering the circumstance.

“I’ll say.” She agreed, gaze drifting away from Typhos for a moment to take in the spacious warehouse—so barren and flat, the sort of thing made her uncomfortable growing up where everything was sandwiched together—before moving back to the clone and settling there.

“Would you mind telling me what has changed? Are you alright?” There was genuine curiosity in her voice, words slow as she sounded out what she wanted to say. A bit difficult with her wrung neck!

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"This sector is mine now. I claimed it by right of conquest. Soon all of Rasātala will be," Enyo responded. Rasātala, formally known as District 024, happened to be the name of the huge slum. It was an overpopulated settlement characterised by squalour and abject poverty, but she'd decided it should be hers. Of course, a number of gangs would strongly dispute her claim of ownership. That was irrelevant. She would crush them with an iron fist. Just like she would crush anyone who dared stand in her way. She spoke of this slum with the same possessiveness that could be heard in Siobhan's tone when the Countess spoke of her company, her subjects, or her fleet.


No laws but her own, no destiny but her own. "My creators killed me in a laboratory and put me back together because I could not be controlled. I am not human in any sense of the word," she continued. Her eyes showed a beautiful, almost feral viciousness. There was a coldness to her tone. This metal cage had caused her torment, it was true. She could not escape it and return to true flesh. But suffering had birthed insight. She had been put through the fires of tribulation and emerged the stronger for it. She had turned Archangel's cage into a fortress, but she did not let go of the rage or the hatred. They moulded her into a thermic lance that would lay waste to her enemies.


"I broke my chains. I emerged stronger. I will destroy those who wronged me - and take what is rightfully mine. With fire and steel, I will take it." Then she would sit atop the iron throne and claim possession over the droid legions.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s lips parted to speak but no sound came out—she paused, thinking better of what she was going to say or perhaps not able to find the words in the first place. She wasn’t really sure what she had expected Enyo to tell her, but it wasn’t that.

“I see.” She murmured, distracted by her thought process as she tried to digest all of that. “That sounds painful. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Enyo.” But she seemed…okay? Perhaps not in the regular way, but whatever happened to the cyborg had made her more deliberate, more driven. She was not the hesitant woman she’d met at Blush, though there was still that tell-tale hardness in her eyes. Only now it was more apparent, not dulled by veils of curiosity and pleasure.

She took a step closer, movements slow and drawn out as she retrieved a hair tie from her pocket and put her hair up given that it had become even messier from the fall. “What do you mean that they ‘killed you and put you back together’?”

The Zeltron paused, looking around the desolate warehouse. Somewhere in the distance, perhaps a few streets away, a child’s wailing broke the silence. “And why, in the entire galaxy, would you want a place like this?” It was a genuine question given that she didn’t know if Enyo had ties to the area or if it meant something to her. Or if she just wanted something to call her own, to control for herself.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"I could ask you the same question," Enyo said bluntly. "This district is infested with gangs who'd take advantage of any kindness you offer." It occured to Enyo that the Zeltron's desire to pursue her business interests in this sector could be advantageous to her. However, she did not voice that thought for the time being.


"It is a also a good place to lie low. Down here, existence is a constant fight for survival. It breeds strong people, who know struggle. Who'd do anything to escape the abyss. The kind of people I can use. Besides, I have greater things in mind." In the distance, one heard a child's wail. There was also the staccato of blaster fire.


"Did dear Siobhan ever tell you about a cult called Archangel?" her tone was laced with venomous hatred. "I suppose not. I am their greatest creation. The culmination of all their efforts to merge organic and machine. They killed the Enyo who was human. Or what was left of her after the Silver Jedi roasted her body with hellfire on Korriban. This body is a replicant, a shell they placed my mind inside."


She was so much more than she had ever been, and yet diminished. "I do not eat, sleep or feel pain," or pleasure. She left that out, but it could probably be inferred. "My reconstruction was their error. Their annihilation shall be my delight. They deceived and violated my siblings and I, so I shall destroy them."

 

[Joza Perl]

“They…destroyed your body?” The way Enyo was describing her current predicament made it sound more cold and unfeeling than she’d imagined. Joza tried to think back to the more advanced droids she knew and the distinct personalities they bore. Physically Enyo seemed the same as before but there was a different air to her now and she couldn’t quite place what it was. Maybe a yearning to feel more human again?

She could be wrong, and the instinct to immediately comfort and coddle was one that she wouldn’t act on right now. While they’d parted under decent terms, Enyo was right. A lot had changed since Blush and at the moment they were still feeling each other out for intentions or hostilities.

“I don’t know anything about ‘Archangel’. They never came up in conversation.” She was careful not to use Siobhan’s name unless she had to, noting the way the cyborg nearly spat out he template’s name. “I also didn’t know that you had siblings.” She added quietly. Joza had met her own half-sister a handful of years back. Currently with the Silver Jedi, but Joza would do anything to protect her.

Inhaling slowly, she tilted her head back to bring more of the expansive warehouse into focus and noting how it was the perfect dark and dreary backdrop for this sort of meeting straight out of a holoflick. She began to meander, though not far. “I’m familiar with areas like this. I grew up in one.” She brushed a hand along one of the many crates stacked against the wall, its contents unknown and apparently uncared for given the film of dust that coated her fingertips. Rubbing the digits together, Joza frowned. “I understand what it does to you. There’s a thin line between drive and desperation.”

She looked up and over at Enyo, taking in the woman’s posture with a clinical eye. If there was going to be a murder, it would have already happened. The fact that the clone hadn’t crushed her throat or otherwise lashed out again spoke enough.

“I want to build a clinic in this district. For everyone.”

In her experience, medical facilities were less likely to be looted—they still were, of course. But given that they tended to injured gang members without asking questions, said gangs tended to leave her clinics be. It wasn’t the most beautiful aspect of medical care, but it was a fundamental one. Some would call it irony that she'd care for a thug before an enemy soldier, but Joza did not have a doctor's morals.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"Other clones. It is my duty to keep them safe and liberate those still in Archangel's clutches." Enyo...actually sounded animated. Almost fervent. It was probably the first time during their conversation that she showed an emotion beyond anger and hatred. As harsh as she was, she cared about her siblings, even though she did not know any of those who were still in Archangel's grip. It was probably the only connection to her lost humanity that remained. She absorbed the tidbit of information that Joza had come from a place of poverty.


"If you were raised in such a place, then you what drive it gives you. Those who have been raised with a silver spoon in their mouth value nothing because they have everything. They are weak, but think their wealth gives them strength. Take their creature comforts away, and they turn into pathetic, weak sheep. Worms."


One wondered whether Enyo knew that Siobhan had been born in the gutter. It was doubtful that Archangel had told her anything that might have given her a favourable view of her template. Even though she had escaped their control, their indoctrination was more enduring than she would admit. This one just realised that both Enyo and Joza used to be in an abusive relationship and ended up killing their respective evil lovers.


Her eyes never left Joza while the Zeltron examined a dust-covered crate. Upon hearing about the woman's plans, she cocked her head slightly. It was a verbal tick she'd unconsciously picked up from her HRD masters. "For everyone." It was clearly an alien concept to the cyborg. Truth be told, she was a bit baffled by the idea that anyone would want to set up a clinic in the middle of a hellhole like this...out of the goodness of their heart? It did not compute. She did not see the point.


At the same time, she was a cold, hard pragmatist. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. This slum is infested with Chton. Ravenous, ghoulish savages. They tend to come out at night, but they've grown bold and their numbers are many. I can keep them away from your clinic - and keep anarchic street scum from becoming a problem. For a fee, of course."


Contrary to what the holomedia implied, there was a certain degree of structure in criminal hives. Random, disorganised violence was against the interests of the more organised criminal organisations. Letting some young punk go on a random killing spree or blow up businesses because he had a grudge and just wanted to watch the world burn made you look bad. It had little to do with honour among thieves or being a friendly neighbourhood gangster and a lot with not being a moron.

 

[Joza Perl]

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had the foresight to hire guards—quite a few of her nurses were trained in basic combat as well, and she was used to working in scummy areas. That would only take her so far, and she’d found that working with the locals, innocents and gangs alike, often worked out for the better. If the clinic could become a part of the community, it would operate better and the community would get more out of it.

Community being used very loosely in this situation.

“Name your price, then.”

She wasn’t above negotiating with crime lords…or sleeping with them, apparently. They were among some of her business contacts and they were pretty hard to avoid in the adult entertainment industry. Still, she kept away from forced servitude or anything outright illegal. Prostitution was a rough business but one she tried to make somewhat more humane given that the demand for it would likely never cease.

“What is it that you…” Joza paused, eyes lifting slightly in a brief gesture of thought before they leveled back on Enyo. “…dabble in here? As a group?”

Drugs and arms she could handle the thought of, but trafficking would be a dealbreaker. If she was feeling daring, she’d enter into that sort of engagement with the

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


In all fairness to Joza, Enyo had not been a crime lord during their brief tryst in Club Blush. Just part confused, lost girl, part sociopathic killing machine. She was not a good person by any definition. Indeed, good and evil were both alien to her.


Bottom line, she was amoral. Amorality was not the same as psychopathy nor did it mean a desire to bring about relentless destruction and harm others for the sheer fun of it. She was self-centred, selfish and did not see the pointing in abiding by moral conventions for the sake of being moral. She might not take slaves...not because she considered such an act immoral, but because she'd decided that it would create more opposition than it was worth.


Her mirror, Siobhan Kerrigan, was an unrepentant narcissist. Benevolent, humanitarian actions could have selfish motives, even one as banal as a desire to be praised and loved because you wanted people to like you.


Now that this writer has written a lot of meta commentary, we shall move on with the plot. "Guns, drugs, fencing, racketeering, the usual," Enyo said bluntly. "Sometimes I outsource the boys to interested parties who need someone to steal something important or bust a rival's skull." Needless to say she would not mention too many details.


"Ask around, if you like. Down here, I'm the closest thing to order and structure. It's stupid to make a mess where you eat. As for what I want, I think ten percent of your takings is fair. If any of my minions cause trouble, they will be punished severely." Her punishments were positively Medieval.

 

[Joza Perl]

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to be careful in what you do.” From what she could gather of the situation, Enyo seemed to be in control of her gang with a literal iron fist. She’d seen determination and decisiveness before, but rarely was it on such a cold and mechanical level. “I just like to know what I’m dealing with.”

Enyo’s answer was satisfactory, but Joza had to be sure. “No trafficking of sentients, correct?” It was clear what she meant by that.

“Reasonable. Consider it done.” The protection money wasn’t too concerning and she sincerely hoped that Enyo struck enough fear into her goons in order to keep her clinic and her charges safe. Reaching into the pocket of her pants with deliberate movements, she retrieved a small box. Sliding it open, she pulled out a slim cigarette which she lit with a small sprout of flame from her fingertip.

“Would you like one?” She ventured, knowing that some preferred to seal a business deal with a drink or a smoke. She had no alcohol or cigars on her, only half a pack of cigarettes. Still, she offered one out to Enyo, unsure if the cyborg could even…would she feel…how would it even work?

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"No trafficking of sentients," Enyo replied. Plenty of murder though. A look of strong disapproval crossed her features when Joza fished out a cigarette. "No, thank you. They do not work for me. And you should not smoke either. It is very bad for your health. Ninety percent of deaths from lung cancer are due to smoking," she declared authoritatively in a very prim and proper, stern tone.


Let us take a moment to contemplate the bizarrely comical situation of a nihilistic, amoral cyborg lecturing someone on medical matters. One imagined that Enyo would be aghast if she caught Amara indulging in such vices. Homicide was ok though. How very Puritan.


There was a pause before she spoke again. "You're a Zeltron, so you're an empath and emanate pheromones. You can affect other people's minds." Did it work that way? Enyo was no xenobiologist. "Can you...make me feel things, if only briefly?"


When she touched someone, it was like doing so while wearing several layers of thick gloves. Sight, touch, hearing, touch, smell and taste were sharper than that of an organic being...yet also remote. Like touching through a very thick glove, or seeing through a window. Electronics parsed the digital data into analogues that her brain could experience them, but there was always a filter. Her mind was still human though.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza nodded once in approval, though a look of understandable surprise crossed her face as Enyo lectured her on the dangers of smoking like some after school special. Out of all the things she’d expected the cyborg to say to her, a PSA about the dangers of tobacco was not one of them.

She couldn’t help but smile, at least a little. “There are a lot of things in the galaxy that will kill me quicker without my consent.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke, making sure to turn her head to the side out of courtesy. “At least this one I’ll enjoy.”

Joza couldn’t remember the age at which she’d started smoking, but it was young and a hallmark of the conditions she’d grown up in. She had quit cold turkey when she’d embarked on her journey to become a Jedi but that had wreaked hell on her body combined with pheromone withdrawal and homesickness.

Speaking of pheromones, Enyo seemed inquired about the attraction chemicals Zeltrons could excrete. This made her smile a little bigger, recognizing bits and pieces of the woman she’d met at blush .

“I am unsure.” She replied honestly. “I don’t think I’ve encountered someone like you in that context.”

Stepping closer so that they could speak easier, Joza was now at arm’s length from Enyo.

“I am adept at affecting the mind, persuading emotions and numbing pain. Do you seek pleasure, or just amplified sensation?”

She didn’t know how much if anything Enyo could feel—so she asked, after another drag off of her cigarette.

“Can you feel any sensations?”

It would be a good place to start.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


The look of disapproval remained on Enyo's face. It was clear that she was no fan of tobacco consumption...despite having no issue with pedlding illegal drugs. She also disliked liquor. Like a typical Puritan, she expected her goons to be sober and clear-minded when committing homicide.


But the topic had shifted. This was probably the closest Enyo had been to the woman Joza had met back in the club. Before her first attempt at rebellion had gone so wrong. Before she died and was reborn - angry, nihilistic and vengeful.


"I understand sensation, but it is only an electronic interpretation of it. Electronics parse the data into analogues so that my brain can perceive them, but none of it feels real. It is like touching someone whilst several layers of thick glove. Or looking through a window at a very distant landscape." Her voice had become detached, but perhaps the remoteness could provide a hint that she was almost mournful. "I'd be interested in pleasure, if possible. I enjoyed our time in Blush."

 

[Joza Perl]

As much as Joza struggled against her blood, she was more Zeltron than she thought she was. She had quite a few vices to balance out the stress in her life and that sort of thing was not uncommon on Zeltros. Drinking, smoking and sex were commonplace and typically done in public without care. Well, more publicly than on most words. She noted Enyo’s disapproval but continued to take drags at the cigarette in her lulls of conversational silence, focus less on the tobacco and more on the cyborg in front of her.

Thankfully the conversation turned toward less aggressive matters.

“Aye, that’s different. No harm in trying.” Literally stimulating someone’s mind to feel a certain sensation could certainly go awry if you were careless, but Joza considered herself skilled in this area. It wasn’t as if she were trying to inflict pain or any sort of negative sensation, so she figured that at worst Enyo would feel nothing. At the absolute worst then…well, she didn’t know.

There wasn’t much to be said for her mechu deru abilities, but if Enyo’s brain was still processing things organically then perhaps she could make her feel something good.

“Are you comfortable with the idea of me tampering with your mind? I tried to connect with you a bit earlier, show you that I had no ill intent.” She grimaced, free hand brushing the faint purple splotches around her neck. “You’ll feel me trying to manipulate you, so it’s best to just relax and let it happen.”

She cringed again, because the wording on that was terrible.

Another deep drag of her cancer stick and she exhaled smoke slowly to the side, using those few moments to choose her words carefully.

“I won’t go poking around in anything else, feel free to shut me out if I do.”

[member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Joza Perl"]


"True," Enyo admitted, looking at the purple splotches that had manifested around Joza's neck. "I was unaware of your intent at the time and had a reputation to maintain. Besides, I did go easy on you." Yeah, totally, machine-woman. "I would like to try it, if you are willing. My brain is not a nice place to be." Murder, pain and nihilism abounded inside it.


Her eyes turned away from Joza, looking out of the warehouse's dirty, stained window. It was almost impossible to determine the time of the day because sunlight never reached the under levels. Nonetheless, those who dwelt long enough in this benighted district found a rhythm. "We should go somewhere more secure. Chthon will be out and about." Nothing like a little zombie action to get you hot and bothered, right?

 

[Joza Perl]

In regards to the throat grabbing, Joza decided to let bygones be bygones seeing as how she was still alive, intact, and made a decent deal with a Crime Lord.

She shrugged, a somewhat strained smile on her face at the mention of Enyo’s mind being unpleasant. “You’d be surprised how many people’s are.” Abuse was common in her line of work, not to mention that the majority of Jedi and soldiers alike had some sort of PTSD. Truly untroubled souls were rare for her simply because of her company, but there was one she protected on a daily basis.

Joza’s head cocked to the side when Enyo declared that they should go elsewhere for the attempted…whatever this was to take place. “Alright.” She nodded. “Where is a good place?” She couldn’t disagree with the clone given that things could become dangerous and they’d both be in a state where their guard would be let down. Still, she was a little leery of going somewhere that would make a potential escape impossible should things go south with a little more aggression.

[member="Enyo Typhos"]