First Reply How ridiculous...

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Who knows! (Up to you)

Mood Music | X

Tag | Open

She lets out a yawn while watching the sun rise, at a glance you would figure the woman to be in need of sleep after staying awake all night. In truth it was a yawn spurred on by boredom, for the night was uneventful and dreadfully dull...

Normally she would have gotten sour, or perhaps angry over such a thing. Who would even believe her if she said why she even bothered to try and get comfortable with basic things such as socializing again.

Alas, what she had received was more questions than answers to such simple things. What was the point? She was an immortal being, why did it matter if there was someone to talk to?

But strangely, why did it hurt to stay so coiled within her shell? It hurt to feel so alone knowing that at any moment the void could take her and not a soul would care, yet it also hurt having such feelings.

Pitiful and weak, she was far above such basic things.. Right?

The very idea of being not so different to the same things she could crush with one hand made her roll her eyes while sighing, stewing a bubbling annoyance that had lingered since her efforts last night.

Then it has struck her, even beings of this plain have a partner.. Or partners when it concerned Carnifex. But why? Just to have another set of eyes watch your back? Or was there truly something far deeper and more special?

How ridiculous...

She stands, adjusting her black dress.




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[Orson Thorm]

The best jobs all ended the same way - at a dive, drink in hand, and a face he'd forget in the morning on his arm. This had not been one of those jobs, if anything, it was in the running for one of the worst. Ord Linthone was a hole crammed between Alliance overreach and Dark Empire tyranny, not that he cared about the politics of it all. Its factories belched smoke into an ugly sky, and its streets were filled with angry, stupid people. Usually, that meant good money, but this time it meant that the locals had pooled their money to buy advanced combat droids, and Orson and his men had walked into an ambush.

If the scorched skin along his upper arm didn't sting so badly, it would've been funny. No matter how long they'd saved, which couldn't have been long, there was no way the factory workers would've had enough for one of the machines, let alone twelve of them. The idiots had given away their money to some dealer, and all but paid for one crime lord to move in and supplant the one they were so desperate to be rid of. Their meaningless lives would not get any better, it would just be someone else pocketing their creds for protection.

Orson limped through a back alley, shedding the upper half of his combat armor, now battered and broken, and pulled on a simple jacket over the black undersuit. The droids were dead, his men were dead, and come morning the slug he'd been on payroll for would probably be dead too. Orson needed to be gone before the sun was up, or he'd be joining the bastard.

Hatch and the others would be back soon, they were due to be in orbit in a few days, but he didn't have that sort of time. So he'd fall back on money. Stifling the pain and forcing himself to hide his limp, the mercenary pushed through the nighttime streets, moving under the neon glow of advertisements as inconspicuously as he could manage.

He needed a ship and a drink. A few places could provide both, provided nothing went wrong along the way.

Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

Her ponderings would have to wait, her nostrils picked up the scent of the dying... Easy enough prey in a place such as this if she so desired.

Luckily for this person she was in no mood for any kind of food, but perhaps this morning wouldn't be too dreadfully dull.

Her head turns to see a man stumbling through the street, broken and beaten it would appear he had been within some sort of skirmish. Be he a guard for some company, grunt, or mercenary? Did it matter? No, she didn't really care anyway.

Once she had followed for a while she spoke up when the two of them had entered a more dead section of the streets. The morning sun making the party goers retreat inside, leaving only the wounded man and the stranger that had followed.

"If you keep walking on, you are going to bleed out.. Sit."

She says, more akin to a command over a suggestion. Her pale hand gestures to a nearby bench just outside of a little shop.

"It appears your night has been far more eventful as opposed to mine."

She jests, her appearance wasn't like anyone else from around here. A petite frame garbed in a shadowy black dress, head adorned with ears and skin pale as snow.




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[Orson Thorm]

He didn't hear her coming, and that set every strand of hair he had on end.

Orson had been blown up half a dozen times, been in close proximity to artillery positions for months on end, but in the trenches one had to have a keen awareness of their surroundings. There was always the risk of infiltrators, saboteurs, or even a damned Jedi. He'd only ever slipped up twice, and once was now. Whoever the stranger was, her mere presence was enough to put the mercenary on edge.

"They got my arm and grazed my leg with blasters, my blood isn't going anywhere." He lied confidently, ignoring the agonizing sensation of blackened flesh cracking open more blood trickling out as he fought to obscure the severity of the wounds.

"And my mother taught me not to accept back alley medical treatment from strange women." Orson added, another lie. His mother hadn't taught him much beyond that he was far and away the most disappointing of his now entirely deceased siblings. The woman was strange though. Wrapped in swirling black that would've earned superstitious stares, and entirely too clean to be one of the locals, the stranger quite clearly did not belong. A lance of pain shot up from his leg, and when he shifted his weight off of it, his injured arm swayed just enough to set off another agonizing chain reaction.

"Not for free, anyway." A sly smile creeping across his own pale features as he dug into a pocket and pulled not a blaster, but a handful of mid-value credits. Orson forced himself down, and offered up the money, too enraptured in the burning wounds and his self-amusement to consider the stranger might well just rob him and leave him on the bench. It was what he'd have done.

Good thing he was still holding the higher value chits.

"Is that why you're offering to hell a dangerous man on a whim? Trying to liven up your night?" Orson inclined his head sideways, like some sort of inquisitive feline, almost teasing, entirely bluffing. Anyone who could get the drop on him was dangerous enough in their own right to not be entirely afraid of him.

Adeline Noctua

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"Uh huh."

She says sarcastically while looking at the state he was in, her tone oozing with a smug sass.

"Dangerous he says, trust me when I say I am not worried."

At first she takes the credits that were offered, gazing at them before getting an idea.

"Just sit down, I would tell you to not wander off.. But in the sorry state you are in you would either simply collapse onto the ground, or I not make it far without running into other 'dangerous' people."

The woman gives back more remarks in kind, ignoring his last statement while walking off into the shop behind the bench.

It wouldn't take too long before she returned, having spent those credits on drinks, snacks.. And first aid.

"Here, I just picked out some things."

She tosses the bag of snacks on the bench, if he had been resting as suggested then getting his hands on the food would be much easier.

"I also got the hardest thing I could find, take some sips before patching yourself up."

She next sets a hard liquor on the bench, taking a seat herself while opening a bottle of whiskey.

"To answer your question, I decided to help because I am bored. Almost everything has a story, and if that charred flesh I smell is any hint... Yes, your night was far more lively than mine."

Adeline takes a sip of her own drink, watching to see what he does next.

It was clear that the woman treated this more like some momentary cure for that aforementioned boredom, it was easy to see in those Golden amber eyes she sported.



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[Orson Thorm]

She said to trust her, and regarding her absent concern, he did. Something was wrong with the stranger, and the wounds had been shallower maybe ut would have bothered him more. However blood loss had a way of dulling that sort of subtler impulse. When she left, he went nowhere, fully expecting the shadow to never return, and raising a surprised brow when she did.

"Surprised you didn't bolt." He muttered, nodding appreciatively for the strong drink, which he took a hearty swig from before getting to work on his wounds. Orson peeled away his jacket, wincing as the wound flared and blood stuck to the inside of the sleeve. Drawing a knife with his good arm, the mercenary's mind slipped into his work, carefully cutting away the skintight sleeve of the black undersuit to give himself a better visual on the impact.

It was not a pretty injury, and it would not make for a terribly appealing scar, but as he set aside his blade he pushed thoughts of vanity out of his mind.

"Lively is such a funny word for tonight," Orson mused, wincing as he applied the first layer of bactagel to the wound. "What with everyone ending up dead and all."

A strange thought struck him then, and his eyes went from his work back to the stranger.

"You're not death, are you? If you are, I get to play you in Sabacc for my soul right?"

She wasn't quite how the aspect of mortality was described in the stories, but she was close.

Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"No."

The strange woman says simply, placing her drink to the side as she watched him patch himself up.

"What I am is subjective, some see me as benevolent.. Others see evil. We never see Death, all you can do is wait."

Cryptic, but was there really a simple answer to what she was anymore?

"You seem to not be rather fond of last night, why? You have your life.. Whatever that means to you."

She crosses her arms, sitting comfortably next to him.

"What is important is that you are alive, correct? There is a saying... The quick or the dammed, and you seem to be very much alive to me."

Adeline smiles a bit, almost to a degree where it was hard to tell if it was genuine or another bout of sarcasm.

"Sabacc.. No, I only offer deals where both parties benefit."

More cryptic mumbo jumbo, perhaps just the strange woman's way of joking.







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[Orson Thorm]

"Nah, you can see death everywhere, just gotta' pay attention." Orson mused, wincing as he wiped away dead tissue and applied another layer of salve. Death wasn't always a pale stranger in dark attire; sometimes, it was another trooper down in the muck, waist-deep in bodies; others it was a little girl, a bandolier of armed detonators around her tiny chest. There was no stopping it when it came, and so she was right that all one could do was wait, but that didn't mean he couldn't see it coming.

"Life is fleeting; I'm going to die someday; violently comes with the territory. I'd rather my brushes with death be worth remembering, not back-alley ambushes with assault droids." He grunts, gently peeling away the protective layer of an adhesive and laying the bactapatch over his wounded arm. Then he took another long drink, flexed the fingers of his bare arm into a fist, and started on his leg.

She'd been vague about what she was, which only lead him closer to the conclusion his mind was slowly beginning to piece together about her. If he was right, then it really was him who should've been worried about dangerous company.

"That's good, I'm shit at Sabacc you'd have robbed me blind." He says with a laugh. "Does this mean you have some kind of deal to offer me? Or are you just messing with me while the blood loss makes my head fuzzy?"

Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"Today I feel the need to be different, I will only offer deals to those who seek them."

Thus, it would be his own choice to open such a box.

"You may not believe my words when I say this, but I too used to do work much like your own. That was around twenty years ago if I recall correctly, now days I seem to be sucked into petty squabbles or a more... Uniform kind of work."

She says before taking a sip from her drink, hardly been touched so far.

"Is it about money? The thrill? Both?"

The woman asks, her eyes laced with an inquisitive energy.

Funny how this worked out, stressing over self issues and now distracting oneself with what was once a dying man.







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[Orson Thorm]

"Today I feel the need to get off this rock before some mob tries to come and finish what their droids started, so consider me seeking." Orson managed, lifting an injector to his mouth and pulling off the cap with his teeth as he let his injured arm rest. He spat the cap out onto the sidewalk, and promptly pressed the device into his leg with a grunt of pain as it flooded the wound with antiseptic sealant.

At her next words, Orson looked up from the wound, and met the woman's dark gaze with a raised brow, skeptical. "Twenty years ago? What were you spending your payouts on, your own diapers, the newest hologames?" She couldn't have been older than what, seven back then? Unless she was something else, like he was ever more certain she was.

"It's about me not being good at anything else, I'm not made for sitting at desks or working a store. I'm a soldier in my own damn army, with wars entirely of my own choosing, and I like it that way." He says, applying a layer of bacta as he briefly looks back down to the wound, then meets the pale woman's gaze once again, smirking now, "So the thrill."

Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"As I half expected, if I must be honest I had fully expected you to be within both sides. Credits and thrill, most curious is that you are trying to be a one man army."

After speaking she pauses for a moment, making a connection of sorts... How dreadfully ironic that they both seemed to have no-one to watch their back, she knew not why he didn't have a friend.

"Actually, no. I understand, somewhat.. I did solo work back then and I still do now. No friends, no family. Just me and my own choices, but perhaps I should change that one day."

A bit of insight into this strange woman, but with how she acted in an oddly inhuman way it was easy to see why her words could very well be truth.

"But alas, you said you seek a deal? Considering we are but strangers my word is not enough, it is actions that prove what you could receive."

She offers her hand, holding it open.

"Take that knife you used on yourself a moment ago and stab it into my hand, right through the palm."

Adeline says in an apathetic tone.

"Don't worry about me, just do it."





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[Orson Thorm]

“If I cared more about money, I’d have taken some steady post on a corpos security detail.” Orson threw another shrug. “Not a one man army, just my own army. There are others, most are disposable, a few are holdovers from before The Fall who decided I was worth following.”

It should’ve given him some sort of pride, knowing that the few people he considered friends thought him the best leader, but something in him just couldn’t see it that way. “Solo doesn’t sound half bad though, less burdens, more rewards, more respect.” A smile traced his lips as he applied the finishing touches to his leg wound, and sighed as the aching pain was gently numbed.

When she held out her palm, and called for the knife, he wondered if she was preparing to try and bind him with some sort of blood oath. Instead, it was something else. Orson’s eyes widened for a moment, silently appraising the stranger and considering her cold request.

“Oh, I get it, you’re something else, something more. I’m the one who’s got dangerous company.” Orson asked with a knowing smile, cold like his dark eyes. The knife moved in his hand like a blur, and he plunged it through her outstretched palm. He doubted she’d even flinch.

Adeline Noctua

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

As the knife went right through her open palm, she would speak.

"You would be in dangerous company if I deemed it so, it would be nothing personal of course... Just nature."

After the stab, his assumption that she wouldn't even flinch would be correct. A stab was nothing, not anymore at least.

"And now watch."

Blackened blood leaked down her hand as the knife had left a small hole, with his own eyes even he could easily see as her flesh began to reconnect and patch itself.

"I could make those wounds heal within a day.. Nowhere near my own ability, unless you desire to abandon your humanity. Assuming you want to stay human, think of what I offer as boost. While retaining your humanity you can have enhanced strength, speed, even self healing... Slower than mine of course."

She smiles, now letting her pearly white fangs be seen.

"It would be a borrowed power, a pact between us. With the downsides being that you would need to return to me for this again, else you suffer a painful withdraw until it passes."

Making pacts was not the plan for today, but for one such as herself... It was too bittersweet to ignore.

"Or, you abandon your weakness and become better. Your dreams of being a one man army would be easier to achieve, and you wouldn't need to simply borrow power. Alas... This one comes with a price."




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[Orson Thorm]

"That..." Orson flicked the black blood from the knife, eyes lingering on the stranger's flashed fangs as all his speculation proved to be correct. He'd never seen one heal like that, where the ribbons of shredded skin knit themselves back together ever as the blade that had rended them apart slipped out. Some trick of the Force, he supposed, something a mortal like him would never be able to match, outside of a select few situations. "That is some trick."

Trick wasn't the right word, nothing about what he was seeing was a lie, though the words might've been.

"I like my humanity well enough where it is. Bein' the best is its own rewards, but I like other things that come with being human, wouldn't wanna miss 'em." He said with a shake of his head. He had no plans on becoming something lesser than he already was, but her first offer was intriguing enough.

"Why?" He asked, brow furrowing up in confusion. "Why share that with me at all? You said yourself you don't only do deals that are mutually beneficial. What do you get out of sharing with me?"

Orson was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop, and already trying to decide how much he'd be willing to give up to take what she was offering. It would be quite a bit, if she could deliver like she said she could.

Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"I wouldn't have bothered sharing if I had other plans for you, existence takes on a whole new level of boredom when time means nothing to you. Despite what all I have now and what I have done, I remember being stuck in a hole."

A mix of boredom and understanding it would seem..

"Growing up I had always hoped that some Jedi hero would help, but alas.. We only have ourselves. What do I get? I seek to give you that help, a much needed boost in that short life you have. If the work is something you enjoy, then why would I lecture you over it? By all means, indulge in the sin."

She chuckles some, letting out a sigh after.

"I had spent my night trying to figure out why people act the way they do, but all I have seen here is nothing different from where I was born. If those who follow a weak and pacifistic dogma allow this to happen, then I say embrace the dark. Let downtrodden souls such as yourself help burn it down, and perhaps in the end you will help things be better in some twisted way."

Adeline gently bites into her wrist, letting the cursed blood drip down into her drink. She then offers the spiked brew to him, an oddly calm.. Almost blank expression adorning her pale face.

"To burning it down."

If drank, the sheer bitterness of her blood would make almost any man spit it out.. Stinging the throat as it went down into the system.







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[Orson Thorm]

Augmented strength, speed, senses and healing were the sort of things mercs would spend a lifetime trying to afford, and the stranger was offering it to him for free. Something in Orson's mind told him to refuse, to get up and walk away while he still could, but as she spoke, he found himself less and less inclined to leave.

"Sin?" Orson chuckled, "Nah, nothing so crass. Don't do spice, don't drink that heavy, just got a weakness for women." The mercenary confessed with a shrug, playing the oaf for a heartbeat as though he was not hanging on the stranger's every word. She was offering him everything on some vaguely nihilistic principle, and he did not even know her name.

If he'd not dealt with dark siders before, Orson would have thought her a liar, but he knew better. He eyed the spiked drink carefully, then flicked his gaze back to hers.

"The world already burnt down, and it will again. Empires, Alliances, Republics, it doesn't matter, nothing anyone builds anymore lasts longer than one lifetime." He sighs, cynicism creeping into his voice for the briefest of moments. "Tell me whose blood I'm about to drink." It wasn't a command, he wasn't half so foolish, but it wasn't quite a question either. They might as well exchange names first, before they did whatever this was.

"I'd be Orson, by the way." He adds, taking the drink from her, and holding patiently in his good hand.

Adeline Noctua

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Ord Linthone

Tag | Orson Thorm

"A mix of my own blood and the whiskey I didn't finish, the changes will take effect over some hours."

She had forgotten to exchange names.. Embarrassing that he had to do it first.

"Ah, my apologies.... Adeline Noctua."

A name known in the ranks of the Sith for all the bad reasons, a name also connected to her darth name of 'Keres'. She didn't expect him to know about her, it didn't matter anyway in the end.

"Buildings and titles may have burned, but core ideals never have. When I speak of burning it all down I mean so much more than just a landscape."

Adeline taps a now extended claw against the arm rest of the bench.

"You are free to think of it as you please, just as you are free to accept the gift I offer.."

Next she yawns, laying back into the bench.

"A weakness for women.. Amusing."

The chat had helped distract her away from her earlier issues, instead she got to close her eyes and relax, not like she was in any danger of course.






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