Don't Feed the Animals

[Vrag]

[SIZE=12pt]A wild ship appeared.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Anyway, they dropped out of hyperspace near the elusive planet of Ralltiir, in the even more obscure Darpa Sector. One might wonder how they even managed to find the world, but such ruminations would be left to another time. Let us be merciful and spare the trio another description of the tedious trip from the cabin to the dropship and then to the surface, for we know for certain that they could walk that path in their sleep.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Or, well, at least Vrag could. She was pretty sure that Reverance would be capable of such a feat as well, but her conviction faltered somewhat when it came to the last member of the motley crew. Were she an individual of worse manners, the Knight might've pointed out — in a rather poisonous tone of voice, too — that the petite Sith Lord hadn't walked that well-worn path from the elevator to the hangar quite as many times as the two warriors had, but she wasn't, so the point is moot.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The firrerreo was the first one to step out of the vessel when they landed planetside, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as the sun greeted her. It only took her a few moments to realize that clear skies and black armor made for a bad combination, however, and her face fell immediately. Having been travelling with two people she was less suspicious of than the rest of the Galaxy, the woman had foolishly left her visor transparent, and now the cosmos was shamelessly exploiting that blunder.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]"Feth," she cursed under her breath, knowing full well that her expression wouldn't have gone unnoticed. With as much pride as she could muster in the face of whatever smart remarks the two Sith would surely make, Vrag turned her back on the pair and made haste for the exit. The sooner they could get to snow-covered mountains of Low Ontis, the happier she would be. Happier meant less likely to break somebody's face, which in turn meant that it was in the whole city's best interest to appease her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Too bad the city didn't know that, huh?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Well, to be honest, not many people would be dumb enough to try and pick a fight with a towering mass of black plate and muscle with a seething frown on her face. Then again, one of the few things Vrag had learned to be absolutely true in her considerable experience was that the stupidity of people knew no bounds, which is why she still kept an eye out for potential troublemakers. If someone came to her with a death wish, the Sith would graciously oblige.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]"So, Iron Maiden, you dead-set on getting that coat?" she threw over her shoulder to [member="Matsu Xiangu"] as she neared the information terminal in the main hub of the Grallia spaceport. Like the lady that she was, the Knight ducked behind [member="Reverance"] at the last moment, giving the smaller man a stealthy prod with her elbow in an attempt to push him in front of the clerk by the window.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]She sure as hell wasn't going to be the one asking for directions, and the prospect of watching the Wrath of the Dark Lord talk to the bored official was far too amusing to miss out on.[/SIZE]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt]For a long time Matsu had played more than one part in the Galaxy, dividing her time equally between entirely separate areas of their vast expanse of stars. So perhaps she could be forgiven her absence on a few battlefields – she was a busy girl and there were a lot of lightyears between Fringe and Sith space. However she’d recently shifted full commitment to the One Sith, moving to Coruscant permanently. Though Vrag was, of course, a woman of better manners if she’d admonished aloud she would most likely have been told she would eat those words – she’d be seeing a lot more of the little Atrisian, and would perhaps be begging for the days when Matsu had been busy elsewhere.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She stepped out of the transport just behind Vrag, a little more prepared for the sun and relatively comfortable temperatures of the city, a fur-lined coat slung over her shoulder (though one less unique than she intended to procure for herself that day) and sunglasses shading her eyes. Clothes were her one true vanity, so when Vrag cursed under her breath and rushed off Matsu had no sarcastic comments to offer – Force knew she wasn’t one to talk. She’d destroyed half of Annaj in heels with Gabriel, and seemed to recall ruining a shirt she really shouldn’t have been wearing on the hunt for a holocron. For a woman who loved getting her hands dirty she certainly didn’t look it, but it all went back to the days she believed she could remain anonymous, that she could commit atrocities and stay faceless. These days her appearance just quieted suspicion instead of removing it entirely.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Nodding in response to Vrag’s question, she side-stepped around a Mother and her crying toddler, hustling away from the one sound in the world that put her on edge faster than anything else. “Dead-set. And I may as well treat you two to the ‘safari’ while we’re at it. You’ve both been working so hard, after all,” she answered, finding the attempt at normalcy comical. Of course these were the people that, if she were ‘normal’, she would consider her closest friends next to Kesare. The term just seemed flimsy in regards to her worldview and her attachments could hardly be considered conventional. But hell, even a trio of Sith needed a vacation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She considered waiting to watch Gabriel communicate with the woman sitting behind the barred glass and chewing on the end of her pen in a thoroughly disgusting display of boredom. She had to admit that watching the Wrath of the Dark Lord attempt something as mundane as asking for directions would make the day great before it’d even begun. But the more she thought about it the more that kneejerk disgust nagged at her – what if that woman’s weird pen-chewing extended to other filthy habits and when she passed the customary tourist’s brochure to Gabriel through the cut-out in the window she got her disgusting germs on him? No, that wouldn’t do. The official’s mind was just as weak as expected and Matsu had lifted the directions out of her head within seconds, sans catching some disease.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] “I know how to get there,” she offered, tilting her head towards the exit. “Walk or fly?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"][/SIZE]​

 

[Reverance]

People often had trouble keeping up with Gabriel's opportunistic sense of morals. In truth, he even wondered to where they were birthed and from where their origin resided. For those keen on the inner workings of his mind, a feat that even the small atrisian had yet to accomplish despite their midnight rendezvous and times beneath the knife, they would know of the constant struggle that wavered behind the glass and tepid stare of the Wrath of the Dark Lord. A thousand yards and going, he stepped off the ship in nonchalance, his wardrobe a healthy mix of Vrags and Matsu's in that beneath a heavy coat with fur lined and erect neck, his common flack vest stood encumbered. Hair tied back in a black and tight knot, he had taken to a thin growth upon face, the waning days of war removing what effort was left for the comfort of blade against throat. The jacket was dark and closely resembling the texture of suede, obvious wear and tear from his visitation on some of the colder planets. He was half arkanian, the cold wouldn't bother him, telling silent tales of walking to school in the snow without shoes, uphill both ways.

He felt the prod of the amazonian armored woman at his back, the invitation to speak with clerk was surprisingly well met - a curl of the lips that sort of resembled a smile, though those who knew him would find sudden revelation at his intent. Silent and longing, a tempered gaze fixed upon the nervous thing before him, supposedly hidden behind the comfort of cold steel bars. Few knew the slights committed against the Sith Lord, especially mid act, but a nervous twitch was one of them. As he stepped forward, a left hand crossed the threshold of the bars to grab chewed pen from teeth. The right hand was equally quick, grabbing the woman by her jostling neck. As she struggled, gasping for breath, he checked the pen to make sure it still worked, scribbling concentric circles across paper. Lucky for her, that was, silently determined, to be the deciding factor on whether it would bite flesh or merely be flung into the open walking space. Making promises of coming back to visit her, symbolized in the show of teeth, he pushed her away from him and back into the shack, as he clicked the pen and threw it across the walkway...to be trampled by those none the wiser.

Matsu made words of flight or walking. He could have laughed at the implied difference, his mind drifting to a dental excursion on Vahl where they made such disparity a thing of blurry semblance. Never mind, he thought, as he turned his sanguine stare towards the foothills. An alpine inclination, the location was surrounded on all sides by tall solemn pine trees, or evergreen in persistence at least. As the hill climbed, the trees began to stunt and turn gnarled, crow nesting towards the peak in tufts of cholorotic vegetation upon sparse bark. Beyond, a narrow band across the face of the mountain strafed across and parallel to the ground, open tundra marred by short growth of recently fruiting berry patches and spindly grass. And just beyond, the snow line, that began thin and turned to thick and perennial foundations, likely well developed upon sheets of thick ice that never melted. He had done some research about these mountains, having a certain affinity for the tiger species so often taken by the blood frenzy, and had read about the long standing presence of glaciers in this mountain range. He desired to see, a curiosity to look upon something older than himself.

Hiking was a sound idea, if not for a spectacular occurrence. He pointed towards the ridge line, the fur lined arm was rigid in his gesticulation, as he looked towards the two women. "Ice fog...it'll be hell navigating on foot." It was thick and rolling, turning wildly around the cone of the mountain, just beyond the alpine foothold. It carried itself slowly across the tree line, tugging on the trees like blankest snagged against the corners of a tables. Only to roll upon itself, a force unstoppable for how delicate it was. He appreciated the spectacle, as he nodded to his two companions, his chin towards the gondola and the ascending scar of it's path up the mountain, soon to be overtaken by the fog. "I guess we'll be flying." He couldn't think of two people better to spend his 'vacation' with. Up until now, he had experienced the two individuals without seeing them work in tandem. And while he knew it had occurred, on the battlefield, there was something about seeing the quality of individual in much less trying times. At peace with the current predicament, if the Lord of Pain could ever truly be at peace, he wished to merely enjoy his time. Three mass murders, inflicting themselves upon a world that had no manner of protection against them. What could be more peaceful?

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Her mouth pulled into a small smile at [member="Matsu Xiangu"]'s response, her expression visible for once. How curious, to feel more comfortable in the company of mass murderers than normal people. Perhaps it was a reflection of the many things that had gone wrong in her life; or gone right, depends on the perspective. Many would argue that what she did, what they did, was twisted. Amoral. Evil, even, though Vrag had always despised the use of that word. That term, that dreaded, stigmatizing adjective was nothing more than an excuse of people who couldn't face one very simple fact. That could be you. A frightening concept, to be sure, and on a certain level the Sith could understand why they feared it so. To recognize that was to show exceptional self-reflection — how ironic, then, that 'normal' people called her delusional — and Vrag held little respect for those who would brand her a monster.

They were but people, poorly adjusted, perhaps, but people nonetheless. It's what made them so dangerous. So utterly, utterly terrifying. And rather strange to look at, sometimes.

Vrag swallowed a chuckle at the show that [member="Reverance"] put on in front of the tourist information window, nearly giving the lady inside a heart attack. Five minutes in, and already they were turning heads and attracting the morbidly curious. A social experiment, one could say. Not that any psychologist or anthropologist who attempted to assess them would survive past the first few sentences, really, but it was an amusing scenario to play out inside her head. By the looks of things, their journey would be longer than anticipated, and there weren't all that many things that put a smile on her lips these days.

The Sith Lord's childish display of annoyance was certainly one of them, but the clerk couldn't sustain their attention for very long. Already she was forgotten, left behind as another collateral at the side of the wide swath they would inevitably cut on their way to the mountain. To expect of them some manner of quiet, well-behaved visit was quite foolish, really, and while their first few minutes on the planet might have been relatively peaceful, Vrag was certain the rest of the little trip would be sufficiently louder.

Her grin stretched wider, and the woman upped her pace with a spring in her step. The whole 'vacation', if it could be called that, was shaping up to be rather interesting, and they'd only just begun. The armored Knight followed the petite woman as she led them away from the spaceport and towards the seemingly only way up the mountain.

"What's this safari you mentioned?" the firrerreo nudged Matsu as she walked beside her, wondering how long the guards of said reserve would hold up against the three of them. It was doubtful that any generic enforcers stood more than a passing chance with the trio's destructive force combined, but if they somehow did… well, she always appreciated a good challenge. Skilled, determined opposition would certainly spice up their little holiday, warming them up just right before they took on the fabled Ralltiir tigers.

Ha! Kittens, the woman was far more amused at the prospect of going toe-to-toe with blood-thirsty beasts than what was good for her health, but Vrag had never been one to stop when such minor obstacles appeared on the path to her goal. And who wouldn't want a big, menacing cat to greet their guests in their home?

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt] She had been prepared to get a move on, shrugging her coat over her shoulders and zipping up when the sound of the woman’s windpipe snapping shut in Gabriel’s fist brought her attention back. Reaching up, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, snow glare from the spaceport exit be damned, to watch. She’d admit to being overly sensitive to the hygiene and personal habits of others – strange, considering picking dried bits of organ off her skin at the end of the day didn’t bother her – so when he tossed the pen to the wayside she felt a satisfaction almost as fulfilling as the woman’s fear.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] But the clerk was forgotten quickly, though she didn’t forget them with quite the same haste. She waited until the trio was out of sight, swallowed by the bright halo of snowglare sun at the exit of the spaceport, to call ahead to security further up the mountain.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Always being the shortest in the room had long ceased being annoying. She couldn’t reach the cereal on the top shelf but she could raise the dead and impale people with the pure power of the dark side. It seemed a fair trade-off. Tilting her head up so as to actually see the woman nudging her didn’t make her feel small, despite the fact that if Matsu didn’t have power of her own the Firrerreo could punch her clean through the mountainside. “That’s what they call it, though it hardly seems the same as cutting through a jungle,” she answered, the snow crunching under her boots as they traipsed towards the lifts. There was a time that mountains had conjured up memories she’d rather forget, images of the ship piloted by the one person she’d cared about at the time leaving her to bleed out in the shadow of one such early monument. But she saw the memory as a kind of dying, the Matsu she’d been still a corpse rotting at the base of that mountain while the new one went on. Now she liked them. The summit seemed a lonely challenge, a place she might discover something. Even if she still wasn’t a fan of the cold. “They set the mountains up as a tourist destination, an effort to protect the wildlife by making it more difficult to poach with so many people walking around. Supposedly it’s working.” She imagined entire packs of Ralltiir tigers, an animal she’d never seen but imagined more than once since her first conversation with Gabriel.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] However, despite the trappings of a quaint day off one would be remiss in assuming they’d go up and down the mountain like any other group occupying one of the gondolas. One shifted by to collect them almost as soon as they’d reached the pick-up. Matsu got comfortable and waited a moment or two for the little lift to start its way up the face of the mountain before pulling the bag of glitterstim from her jacket. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] In Matsu’s estimation it was healthy and productive to stretch one’s mind with drugs on occasion. The danger of becoming a slave to it kept her away the majority of the time but every now and then she indulged. “I brought enough to share,” she assured, probably unnecessary considering the little bag was plump with shiny, silvery crystals, enough for multiple hits for each if they wanted it. Extracting one for herself she stuck it under her tongue, a crackling like rock-candy as it began dissolving. She picked another one out for Gabriel, handing it to him before holding the bag out to Vrag. “Want some?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"][/SIZE]​

 

[Reverance]

Snow crunched beneath his weight, the compression giving a soft bounce to his step as he lifted his feet behind the duo, effort made to progress towards the 'safari.' The term was used widely throughout the galaxy, contextual connotations tied to what the world considered wild and removed from what was discerned as the norm. For some, it was the navigation of cruiser through the asteroid belts to endure the thrill of death ever looming. For others, it was a caravan through the sparsely populated dunes of Tattooine, a sarlacc pit or convoy of tusken raiders a constant threat. But for them, now, it was a metal cage suspended below guy wire, ushered towards the tip top of the mountain upon turning cogs and wheels, through fog and snow and ralltiir habitat. Matsu made mention of conservation programs put into place and he squinted at such notions, his eye tracing their steps as he matched their footprints in the powder and stomped them out with the impression of his own.

The Ralltiir tigers were hardly what one could consider weak. Beasts of tenacious appetite, they spent a portion of their life bound to blood and blinded by it, and he resented the biological reasoning for their departure from reason. He had no such safety curtain and while it was inconvenient to explain to those he was torturing, the effect of the blood upon skin and lips often left a sense of euphoria - he didn't mind the long-windedness. Vrag had gotten a image of this in the Redoubt cluster, a wall of indifference turned into one of jocularity and expressiveness. It was something unaccustomed, but often uncontrollable. In his own way, he appreciate that loss of direction and steadiness - a hand shaking violently in the cold to stay warm. But nevertheless, as neither of the three were in need of protection, neither was the tiger species. Either they were born for greatness or born for death, there was no purpose in prolonging one for the other. He couldn't help but feel a sort of uselessness in the endeavor - and that was coming from someone who certainly appreciate the cat species for what they were. But the universe had no time for such things, not when the weak were so easily broken by the mundane efforts of the strong.

He sat next to Matsu on the gondola, left arm outstretched across the backing of the chair, as he expected Vrag would sit down next to him or on the other side of Matsu. Not really a hard or important choice, just one of her deciding and mood. As Matsu pulled out the glitterstim, Gabriel smiled and palmed the small crystal, having not partaken in quite some time. She didn't need to ask him, she knew his predilections well enough to understand his enthusiasm towards pleasure and it's kindred spirits. "Thank you..." He said as he looked forward and placed it between his front teeth, proceeding to roll the fragment around in his mouth, all to hear the clack of it as it dissolved. With a clench of his teeth, he bit down and turned what stone remained into powder, mulling the drug around before ingesting. Ever since he had first met Matsu, he had kept her at a mental distance, pounded fist against a fortress of ice. As his vision tunneled, his focus towards the woman in front of him shifted, her distance moving from a few feet away to what felt like a mile, he felt his body go soft, like steak forming into gelatin. And suddenly, what mental walls were there slowly began to melt, glaciers on an extraordinarily hot summer, rushing and gushing ravines of water down the snowy mountainscape.

He wasn't a fan of mental communication, Matsu knew this. But any words that her or Vrag projected would, understandably, be met with little resistance, as the drug took a cemented hold upon his mind and he began to thoroughly enjoy himself.

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Vrag]

"Supposedly, huh?" she quipped with a quirk to her lips, her initial discomfort at having her expression freely scrutinized now gone. It was a nice enough day, the air was as fresh as one could hope for in a metropolis like Grallia, the sun was shining and the potential for bloodshed was high. Excellent weather for a mountain hike, no?

For a moment the Knight tried to envision the three of them walking a few paces ahead of the tourist group, ignoring the annoyed and/or frightened calls of the guide as he tried to get them to join his little herd of sheep. The mental image was so absurd that the firrerreo had a hard time holding back a laugh, but she managed for the sake of maintaining at least a semblance of a façade while they were on the ground, passing by hordes of self-absorbed civilians. So many empty stares, looking straight ahead or at their wrist displays as they walked down the street. She wondered if they would even notice if the trio killed a few people.

Probably not, the woman scoffed, shaking her head at the opiated masses. This was the utopia that the Republic tried to sell to their citizens, a picture of heaven that Vrag could never swallow. Even a decade ago, when she was much younger and certainly more impressionable, the woman — though perhaps experienced beyond her years —didn't buy into the pretty, pre-packaged idyll of a life. That act of nonconformity alone was enough to brand her in the eyes of the law, and from that day on she was never afforded a moment's respite again.

Living the dream, my ass, she thought as her scornful gaze scorched the backs of the passersby, the thick layer of snow the only thing that saved them all from incurring burns. Before the Knight could act on any of the ideas she was toying with, however, they reached the gondola, and she left her dark musings at the foot of the mountain without a second glance.

She assumed her seat on the other side of the petite Sith Lord, locking gazes with [member="Reverance"] over [member="Matsu Xiangu"]'s head. The staggering difference in height still amused the firrerreo — though not nearly as much as it used to — and she resolved to find a way to sneak in a jibe or two during their ascent. By the looks of things, their journey wasn't going to be a very short one, so Vrag was content to find a comfortable position on the bench as they commenced their shaky ride.

Her blue eyes surveyed the changing landscape on the other side of the window, turning back to her two companions with an almost comical expression on her face at the suggestion. Her gaze fell to the contents of the bag, scanning the synthetic, crystalline drug offered to her.

Vrag, above all, was a creature of control. With an anger that flowed through her veins in similar quantities to blood, that control wasn't a thing of choice, but rather of necessity. It was a rare occurrence when the woman relinquished the reins of her body, and the consequences were without exception gruesome and disastrous for those around her. When the Sith let go, she was like a beast unchained, that ever-boiling ire rising to the surface like a tide of red, clouding rational thought with a crimson haze.

Wary eyes met those of Matsu, and her brow furrowed in indecision. On the one hand, she knew very well what happened when she allowed herself to drop her guard; on the other, however, the woman also realized that she was, for once, in good company. The pair would sooner partake in the carnage than condemn it, and it was that knowledge that ultimately swayed the Knight.

She dipped her hand into the proffered bag, pinching a small crystal in a surprisingly gentle grip as she brought it to eye level. She smiled at the way it reflected the sun, its silver surface coruscant with golden light, then promptly placed it on her tongue. Her eyes fell closed as she leaned back, crushing it against the roof of her mouth before she could change her mind. It turned out she needn't hurry, for the effect kicked in immediately, sparks racing though her nervous system as she gasped softly. She could feel the boundaries of her body dissolving, and then she couldn't tell anymore if the armor was on her skin or in it.

"This is weird."

Ah, yes. Vrag the Eloquent.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt] “This is weird.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Matsu laughed, nodding. There was nothing quite like glitterstim, a sensation that started in her head. Her hearing always muffled, everyone so far away, giving way to a low buzzing that seemed to shake right in the center of her skull that after a moment or two turned to crystal clarity. In that moment she always felt like an animal, synapse and nerve circuitry, in touch with every creature around her. She could feel the opening of Gabriel’s mind, an easy Dali-esque melting that in any other moment would have made her frantic, fluttering fingers to erase tension as she made herself pick through things in order. But not here. At some point along the way she’d decided storming the gates was less fun than the drawbridge being lowered. She would rather be given access to his mind when she had the time to take it slowly, peeling the fold off each memory with the delicacy cultivated in all of her patient years of waiting. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Switching to Vrag, she sifted through her uncertainty that seemed to give way quickly to excitement. Matsu had worried very little about Vrag’s reaction to a drug this powerful, thinking anything the Firrerreo would do would only do something worth partaking in. In other words, Matsu hadn’t packed a foil hat – Vrag didn’t seem the type to curl up in a ball and start murmuring about how the warlocks in the sky were coming after her. In fact, the Atrisian had rather hoped their mutual high would lead to even greater heights of depravity than either had reached in the other’s presence before.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Settling back she closed her eyes, giving way to a dizziness that came of being entirely unsure if her feet were still on the ground without being able to look to confirm. Instead of speaking she let her mind go, clipping between things she’d seen, done, or just thought about when things were quiet: grainy footage of animals killing each other, blood on lion’s teeth, a blur that straightened and smoothed to Vrag as she stopped moving for a whisper of a breath to drag an upward spray of blood caught in the wind to remove a human obstacle, sounds like random tapping on instruments she couldn’t name but pulsed through over a thousand images ticking behind her eyes, Gabriel wiping blood from beneath his eye, a gaze that surveyed destruction with the quiet satisfaction and certainty she craved, the satisfying feeling of a knee tearing apart even further as she turned a knife in cruciate ligament, gasps and sighs, skin whispering over skin, shadows melting and bending around motes of color.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She could have gone on forever, save for the light ‘thud’ of something hitting one of the windows of their lift. She opened one eye lazily (perhaps even a passable imitation of the Lord at her side), to see a small sticky bomb glued to the window. The small red indicator lights blinked, dancing kaleidoscopic in her vision, a visual that drew her in almost as effectively as the urge to get rid of it. Lifting herself from her seat she moved over to the window, extending the claws in her right thumb and forefinger and tracing a circle in the glass around the bomb’s circumference. Once done, she retracted the claws and flicked the chunk of glass, sending it and its attachment back down to where it’d come from: the squad of security that’d seen fit to shoot first and ask questions later. Gabriel must have made quite an impression. “They’re not even trying,” she said quietly, a hint of bored disgust, her voice spinning around her head before filtering back in. A vacation, indeed. It was starting to look decidedly like a normal day of the week. But then again, she'd chosen work she found pleasure in. It was no wonder the two rolled in on each other like this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] The sticky-bomb exploded just before it reached the ground, sending men on speeders crashing in bright red splats against the mountainside. It was beautiful really, the way their insides scattered in spider-web strands so stark against untouched snow. Excitement, adrenaline, coursed from her section of the trio’s telepathic connection before she punched through the glass, reached up for the lip of the lift, and flipped herself up on its roof. From here, spider perched on the edge of her web, she had the perfect vantage point from which to watch and create. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"][/SIZE]​

 

[Reverance]

Unshackled, Gabriel mentally rubbed his wrists for the lingering touch of chains upon them. He couldn't sense him, that dull ache of a presence constantly nagging and constantly reminding, a parasitic being long overdue for a vacation. Once upon time, he had made silent promises in the mirror that all this pain, all this hurt, was to appease something else - not him. But with it gone, or dulled to the point of turning luster into matte, it seemed that it couldn't be further from the truth. The truth was just that - For his efforts to concede and control, he had become the thing he initially combated. As if fighting himself all along, he accepted the terms and signed the parchment with blood.

Metal sublimated by glitterstim, ice thawed into running ravines by the drug, the Sith Lord cocked his head at the explosion, removed by Matsu who obviously was more accustomed to this drug then Gabriel. That was fine, he had time to learn. As she pushed the window out with the crack of glass, flinging her small body to the top of the lift with deft movements of which he had grown so fond. Stepping away from the break, he looked back to Vrag and nodded, tilting his head to the top, as he dismissed the obvious fears of the civilians in the boat with an outstretched hand. A a hard force push scattered outward, winds twirling in a spiral of violence, as he compressed the individuals at the tail end of the lift and rocked the boat. Balls of paper smashed hard against the table, slowly leaking red ink from the pages as the fibers tore to reveal something more. He stared for a moment, not quite sure why he did that, perhaps afflicted by some unknown subconscious offense that his tripped out mind failed to assess. And yet, he had no qualms with the action, a balancing of a universe over abundant with the weak and down trodden. It made sense in it's own way, an inclination towards the depravity of his moral system that seemed to fail to dawn upon him.

Contentment showed as he gave one last look to the Firrerreo. Running towards the break in the glass, he jumped and grabbed the glass etched bars overhead, flipping himself upwards with momentum to land near Matsu. He crouched against the cold metal, giving a look to the Atrisian, before inspecting deep cuts against his palms. The backdrop of snow, there was something reminiscent of it.

​

~​

Children running through the snow​

Footprints mark their path​

As they run into each other with a hard smack​

A woman, Arkanian, laughs...​

​

Come in for lunch, she yells, as she looks happily towards me​

The scent of a breeze lingered, lifting her white hairs to the winds​

As the gleam of snow in sockets leveled me​

I think I love her...​

​

The world moves against me,​

Like waves pushing a man from steady position in the sand.​

Where the house upon hill once stood​

It now stands, burning.​

​

My hands, so vibrant and contrasting.​

My left was covered in soot and ash, the smell of gas upon digits​

The crimson eye sat gingerly and vacant in my right hand​

Looking back at me accusingly of crimes I assuredly committed​

​

Mineral and copper filled the air​

Mixed with smoke and the smell of burned and charring flesh​

My left hand moves towards the left socket​

I can't seem to stop it...​

~​

​

The Arkanian blinked as he unwillingly transmitted the flood of the memory, eidetic and stereo, to the two woman who were now telepathically linked to him. He couldn't seem to draw his gaze towards Matsu, not that shame came to him. It was more a feeling of losing control, an aspect of life not often faced by the Sith Lord. But when he was with these two, it seemed the case that the potential was always there. A freeing sensation overwhelmed him as the lifted continued it's upward path, his crimson view filled with the sight of blood upon the snow, outstretching from the quake and resonation of Matsu's influence. This was turning into business as usual, he thought, as the snow shifted quickly against a view that seemed oblique and out of rhythm of the norm. He could hear his pulse in his ear, he could feel the flow of blood as it moved from artery to vein, a heightened sense of self, as his thoughts drifted to Annaj.

"Ygdris..." The words spilled forth, a certain level of control confounded by the absence of it. "You might want to get up here...unless you intend to stay down there for the rest of the trip." He squinted his eye, the relationship as much playful teasing as it was the serious business of destruction and chaos. Finally lifting himself from crouched position, he turned to Matsu and smirked, failing to acknowledge the slow trickle of that memory for what it was. "Remind you of anything?" He was of course referring to that event with the mercenaries. Lifting his gaze towards the cables above, he slowly scratched the scar over his eye. "As I recall...I think it was my fault back then as well."

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

​

 

[Vrag]

The last of the three was also the least experienced with drugs, ironically enough. Despite the years she'd spent exploring the underbelly of the Galaxy, the woman had never really gone further than alcohol. Curious, perhaps, but the firrerreo was quite… fond of the control afforded by sobriety, and inebriation was the only vice she'd allowed herself to date.

No more.

There was comfort to be found in letting the reins slip from her fingers, and the whispering on the margins of her sanity, her self-imposed cage kept growing louder, telling her to close her eyes and simply drift away. Such an inviting prospect, to feel light and weightless for the first time in years and let herself be carried wherever the current may take her. The floodgates had been pried open, and the turbulent, murky water thundered through with a majestic roar, a testament to the power of nature. It would be so easy to exhale and let the water take her, her limp body no more than a puppet left at the mercy of the elements.

Her inner eye panned to a scene she could never recall while awake, flitting around the blurry, dusty memories until it settled on a small girl that carried so much anger within that it was a small miracle she hadn't gone up in fire. Piercing, scorching blue eyes looked up from the broken wrist the child was cradling in her palm, meeting those of the stumbling dreamer. Vrag faltered in her unwilling pursuit of the past, staring at those icy orbs as a lump formed in her throat. What would she say to the her? Was there anything to say?

The monster bared its sharp teeth, longer and more numerous than those of the young, wide-eyed girl. Evolution had seen to it that not a shred of that fear remained in the woman now, all blood and bone and ire. Whatever had once resided within the heart beating against the diminutive ribcage had been torn out of her with each strike, tempering the meat before the butcher put his cleaver to her.

The firrerreo threw her head back in an animalistic growl, baying like a wounded animal abandoned in a dark, freezing forest. She was all stone and ice now, her skin bleeding into the unyielding durasteel covering her body. How apt.

Blue eyes snapped open again, mirroring naught but leagues of snow and a sea of frightened faces. A flash of that same expression burned into her retina (her fear, not mine), but the Hand caught the fleeting image, crushing it in her fist. She rose to her feet, towering above the stink of terror like a black titan as she spread her fingers, mutely watching as the shattered souvenir of a life long lived danced in the howling wind. The Sith blinked only once, and then the shards were gone, falling towards the ground below with the innumerable snowflakes sent from the sky.

As if it had known what deeds would be committed on the mountaintop, the Force had lain a thick blanket of white across the landscape, so that nobody would hear their screams once they came. And they would, of that there was no doubt.

She took a step forward then, unheeding of her two companions as they slipped out of her narrowed, reddened vision. This was the beast unchained, the beast unleashed, and this was why she needed those reins. In her mind, the woman glanced across her shoulder and downstream, as if she could spy her body adrift in the grip of the water. She kneeled down on the riverbed (the smack of flesh against the metal of the gondola), parting the flow of water around her (coiled fingers buried inside a skull. wet. dripping) as she plunged her hands deep into the soothing cold (the tri-tri-trickle of vitreous humor. like fat, only clearer), desperately seeking to ease the burning ache of guilt (the throb of a heart in her grasp. flutter. hiccup. gone).

Her armored form stumbled across a cooling body, catching herself against the window as the whole boat shook and tilted. She looked up as she withdrew the hand, leaving a bloody print on the transparisteel.

The sound of her name broke her trance, and she tore her gaze away from the meticulously woven lattice of entrails across the floor, her masterpiece disturbed by the explosion below. She scrambled over to the opening Matsu had carved into the side of the boat, almost slipping on a loose omentum majus. Black, blood-caked armor protected her from the shards of glass as she followed the other two on the roof with the flex of her biceps and trapezius. The carnage below was already forgotten as blue eyes found her companions.

"What was your fault?" she asked absently as she cocked her head to the side, picking flesh out of her teeth with the edge of the plate on her fingers.

"More are coming, by the way," Vrag added almost offhandedly and gestured behind their backs with a nudge of her chin. Her eyes narrowed, then, and for a moment her dental hygiene was forgotten. "And on a gunship, no less! They honor us, ladies and gentlemen!" the woman spoke with affect and inflection completely alien to her voice, lips peeled back in a bloodied grin as she stared at the approaching craft.

"Shall we give them a warm welcome?"

[member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt] The steady, visceral flow of Ygdris’ thoughts played behind Matsu’s eyes, unfolding over the blank, white canvas of the snow so that she might see what painted the inside of the lift. The Atrisian had tried most things once at least to say she knew what it was like, but this was what kept her coming back to the psychedelic alteration of glitterstim. She couldn’t tell where she ended and another began, both her companions and those milling below and in the sky coalescing in to one never-ending, searing wound of images and sounds. Was the anger her own or the terrified soldier’s below when he saw brains and blood paint the remaining windows of the gondola, a red tattoo on the white-blue sky? Was the amusement at Gabriel’s reminiscing her own, or did that belong to some overconfident captain strategizing an interloper’s demise?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] From her position crouched at the edge she looked up at the Lord next to her, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It was, but it’s one of the reasons I enjoy your company.” He was never boring, and neither was the firreaoijgoizpoka-whatever crawling up to join them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Images of the day she’d first seen Gabriel flashed across her mind, easily connected to the woman beside Matsu so that she might understand what it was the Lord was referencing, though there wasn’t much time to explain as their new friends came out in force. Turning her head to look over her shoulder when Ygdris announced the gunship, Matsu nodded. “It’s only polite to return a favor.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] There were a thousand ways Matsu could begin. For a moment she considered gripping the mind of the man or woman piloting the gunship, convince him Ygdris had lept from the roof of the gondola to rip through the viewport of the ship, driven mad with fear to crash the gunship in to the snow (rorschach patterns, a flower, the ship the stigma and style surrounded by blooming petals of oil and blood, smoke stretching for the sky). But somewhere in the world created by her high dispatching the thing so early seemed to be ruining the fun. So instead she closed her eyes and stole vision from the crew within the gunner, skipping through them until she found one responsible for the simple, mindless task of aiming and firing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Under her direction the ship opened fire not on them, but those gathered below, great bolts of energy gathering with a hum before pattering through the snow – powder-white geysers, vaporized droplets spraying up to dust Matsu’s face from the force of the fire sprinting across the field in friendly fire. Confusion entered the collective wound before panic and pain quickly swept in. (some buried in the depths, snow shifting to swallow them, suffocating under pounds of unsettled drift, blood soaking through to paint their final sky red, fall in their mouths, arms and legs and bits of ribs and brain speckling the side of the mountain)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She felt her connection severed as someone caught on and knocked away the man she’d ben controlling within the ship, opening her eyes to dozens of soldiers with jetpacks dropping from the craft and barreling towards their position.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She was right. The fun was just beginning.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"][/SIZE]​

 

[Reverance]

"Floating space mines upon Annaj..." He jokingly spoke to the Firrerreo from the corner of his mouth. Of course, he referred to a time long past where he was equipped with far more devastating notions towards Matsu then what now manifested, constantly, in his mind. Even now, he couldn't help but let the telepathic connection draw broadly between the three, a sort of lust that seemed to often escape those incapable of discerning his guarded mind. But now, upon the jet streams of glitterstim trickling through his veins, the drug ran it's course and he could do nothing but abide it's snitching whispers. There was a hunger deep within him, that both of these women had known in their own ways, that danced and leaped from his fortified mental parapets. And to gaze upon the mental prowess of the Atrisian, to feel the true depth of the manipulative power in all it's spray against the snow - he felt nearly crippled for the temporary viewing. It seemed it was always the case. On Annaj, on Vahla, and now. He could taste their fear and it quickened his desires to the brim.

Squinting his crimson eye, he released what holds he may have placed upon the cradle of his own powers. While he was a monster of physical depravity, distance made the heart grow fonder. And he wanted to touch these jetpacks and the men who wielded them, baring down upon the trio with a fervor that seemed to scream more than inclement consequence from a scared teller. There was something awry and for the such notions, he seemed to have little care. These men were fodder, they would spill no secrets this days or the following, as their bones mixed with snow to form a slush of red and sinew.

Beneath the gravity of his presence, the metal gondola began to dent and crumble and shake, spreading outward in a small wake and dimple that resonated in moans against the mountainside. The beast beneath his feet croaked and ached, releasing paneling as bolts stripped from the grey grip of the steel, cascading around him in a cloud of steel and debris. Tethers, outstretching from the launched vehicles, dissipated and formed as quickly as the wind blew. The shift of the planet, the rotation of it's core and the following layers that provided equilibrium, twisted the fabrics of shatterpoint that arched from his outstretched hand, invisible. With each passing microsecond, they shifted against his purpose as he moved his digits, a puppet master contemplating the effects on the puppet from each pulled piece of twine. Within the palm of his hand, bolts began to shift and twirl, intermingling with droplets of blood from opened gash, released from their woes of gravity and arterial imprisonment. He studied the shifting sands upon calloused hand, whipping about him and dictating the desired trajectory for desired outcome.

A combination of Shatterpoint and Ballistakinesis, he couldn't seem to focus enough to separate his own blood from the soon to be bolt projectiles. It didn't matter, he thought, as visual certainty laid down upon the multiple opponents released from their ship through the angering acts of Matsu. Just the hint of blood, not his own, caught him in wafting glances from the ravine formed by Vrag deep below. Everything seemed to be coming together in the most tasteful ways, a thought that brought a smile to his windblown face. With a grip of his hand, a fist formed for his purpose, he grimaced one last time before unveiling the destructive surgical strike. Each bolt, married to a tether, struck out in haste against the flying assailants.

One caught the vanguard directly in his control hand, sending him careening into another to plummet down into the whiteness below. More snow angels for the viewing, spattered in arches against frozen ground. Another forced a man to dodge, sending him hard into the guy wire above. His head left his body with enthusiasm, plopping against the roof of the vehicle before tumbling down, the body sending a red aerosol spray through the blue sky. Like a bowl of apples tossed from the table, everything orchestrated in its own disarray, the dominoes continued to be their own undoing. A bolt and droplet of blood hit another directly in the faceplate, leaving him defenseless to a mind far too dependent on the weakest of senses. Crashing into the gunship, neck caved in like a fledgling bird flying full force into a pane of glass, the shift in inertia activated the turret and sent another arc of bolts across the early sky. The piercing blows downed three more soldiers, two falling into the snow below and the last sent hurdling into the lift below them. It recoiled against the penetration, the waves spread out to reverberate through their feet, as they felt the impact of a single bolt sent through the sky. Such a small thing, he thought, yet so significant. Deception was the universes last line of surprise, one he enjoyed manipulating to his own benefit.

He drew another set of bolts into the floating grip, his emotionless face almost nearing the expression of meditation, as he contemplated the future. There were more soldiers and soon, they would return fire.

"You didn't happen to bring that flamethrower, did you?" They all knew the weapon well and more importantly, Ygdris' affinity for it. But he didn't imagine the armor had the sort of compartments necessary.

[member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQxPrFNNeLc​

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It was a new kind of experience, to be so connected on another level completely, especially for a creature who always kept others at an arm's length. Even those she shared her bed with, even those who would draw upon her blood; no, even those would not be invited within the confines of the fortress that was her mind, ever possessed of a brutal sort of clarity. The lens through which she viewed the Galaxy were not those of a violent maniac, nor those of a hapless victim of cruel circumstance, but those of harsh, acute sanity, something which she hadn't left behind in years.

Decades.

And yet here they were, not quite one, not quite three, too disparate and individualistic to ever truly bleed into one another completely, but certainly akin enough to each other that the tethers bound them with ease. Seeing herself reflected in another was jarring to a point it almost broke the glitterstim-induced haze, for if there was one feeling that had been a constant throughout the whole of her life — longer than the years tracked on paper — it was a profound loneliness. Whether surrounded by the crowds of metropoleis or standing in the middle of a wasteland, Ygdris Val had always been a solitary soul. An state born first out of necessity had long turned into a conscious choice, only cementing the towering walls that existed around the creature behind the armor.

In that moment, the two people in the Galaxy she trusted more than anybody else — which is to say she would only kill them if it were absolutely unavoidable — would be afforded a glimpse of what lay beyond those blocks of stone and ice, beyond the layers of defenses, sarcasm and violence. What they would see, however, was anyone's guess, for the woman herself had not gazed upon that heart of hearts in ages. Would she find anything at all? A part of her believed that the rotting remains of her disfigured soul were all that inhabited that shell in her chest, not a beast, not a ferocious monster, but a twisted abomination of what used to be. And when things came to an end, when her string was finally cut, that was all she would leave behind; pathetic as metaphysical legacies go, perhaps, but it was not something that would make her toss and turn at night.

She had already left her mark, after all.

For those concerned about souls, and the afterlife, and the final judgement, the concern was a legitimate one, certainly, but Vrag was none of those things. To her, the taste of their fear was enough, the hot spray of arterial blood was like a revitalizing stream she could bathe in, her eyes transfixed by the plumes of mist rising from the rich red pools of warm body fluids splattered all over the gondola. Like a leech, she would gorge on the emotions of others as they flashed across their faces, revel in the ricti etched into their features as they gave all they had to give.

It was this deep, insatiable hunger that drove the three of them together, in the end, a morbid curiosity that demanded they stay and see who would fall upon the other first. Like a trio of beasts, all different, but all equal in standing, circling around each other until one of them finally faltered and the other two ravenously tore into their flesh; not out of viciousness, but simply because that was their nature. A pact more ancient than word itself, a writ, a bloody oath that bound them and those like them in the forgotten darkness between this world and the next; it was that which would lead them to consume the Galaxy and, ultimately, each other, once there was nothing left to turn their destruction upon.

Today was not that day.

There was still an Universe left to ravage, still a planet left to break, still throng of soldiers who had bitten off more than they could chew. No, today, they would inflict themselves upon the unfortunate souls around them, the hunger staved off for one more breath, for one more beat of the heart.

The smile upon her face was downright terrifying as she turned to Gabriel, grinning with the glee of a child who had just experienced snow for the first time. "I… did not," her face fell a bit as she realized this, shuffling her feet on the dented and scorched roof of the boat. Only a Sith could feel awkward during a firefight in the sky, with bolts breezing past and corpses raining onto the tainted white blanket below.

Between the drug, the blood, and the maelstrom of freely flowing emotions between the three of them, Vrag felt positively euphoric, her awareness spread across the mountainside in rolling waves that would break against the minds of the weak surrounding them, like flies bursting against the windshield.

"Heh."

And then the Sith ran, her powerful muscles coiling beneath the black plates of her armor, somehow — or perhaps by the grace of the Force — hitting that perfect moment as she launched off the side of the dented roof, barreling into the gunship from the side. Her durasteel boots caved in the chest of the first man as she landed, a comically surprised look on his face soon obscured as the body of his comrade joined him on the floor of the ship.

One after the other, the guards were downed; some slammed against the walls, some thrown out into their doom while still screaming, others again ripped apart by the sheer brute force she could exert upon them. They each asserted themselves in their own way, like a trio of wounds in previously immaculate, pale flesh of Ralltiir.

Oh, how it would bleed. How they would bleed, if only to taste the salt and iron and warmth.

And taste… oh, yes. Taste they did.

[member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]​