Maris Fero
Riff-raff, Street Rat.
The youth followed after Enyo and out onto the platform, her legs felt like elastic for a moment before the Shrike’s feet connected with the surface of the barge. The structure felt surprisingly solid beneath her feet. The youth had expected something different - a sway, or perhaps a rocking sensation like a plastic bottle floating on a flood puddle in the lower levels.
Following Enyo, the youth listened eagerly, noting the lack of extraneous noises. Only the wind could disturb them here. And yet, even as her boss spoke about the force and the world below Maris already felt the difference in the surroundings. Down in Efavan, even lower down in the dark of her native undercity, the Shrike was surrounded by noise, lights and people, her senses flooded; Adding the passions and fears carried to her by the force was practically an overload.
Now, on her own, with only the cold burning aura of her boss nearby Maris realised just how loud the world had become around the Shrike. “I can’t feel them from here,” she spoke quietly, though a moment later she nodded and stopped before her boss, turning and looking at Enyo, batting long lashes and brushing her hair from her face before closing her eyes.
Maris listened to the wind, hearing the whistling of the air about them, and imagining the thumping of her own heart in her chest. In her mind's eye, the youth could already picture Herk Mallit’s face as he watched her kill his friends. She recalled his face from before too; The sneer on his lips as he prepared to take his revenge on her. Her brows furrowed as she felt the first tendrils of her anger quicken at the memories, remembered the power that had flowed through her from head to toe as she swiped the blade bearing droids from the air.
The youth felt her body tighten as the cold about them seemed to fade away and the wind around Maris died down. Her teeth gritted, the youth felt her fingers curl into tightly clenched fists and her arms become taut. Her mind shifted to Tratten, to the cryptic expressions of Ku Melort, to the face of Bolo as he fell from that height.
To the visions of those people mindlessly feeding credits into a palace of greed and gluttony, to the vista of glistening shard towers filled with more such drones and the oppressed masses living deep below, beneath the weight of such ignorance. Rage coursed through her again, Maris’ lips curled as the feeling seemed to flow out from her and across the platform. The shrike felt as if she was shaking, only a moment later coming to the fact that the whole floating island had started to reverberate under the strain of whatever influence the girl was drawing upon.
She felt her mouth open, even with her eyes shut the youth could see, and a moment later she heard her own enraged scream shatter the silence.
[member="Enyo Typhos"]
Following Enyo, the youth listened eagerly, noting the lack of extraneous noises. Only the wind could disturb them here. And yet, even as her boss spoke about the force and the world below Maris already felt the difference in the surroundings. Down in Efavan, even lower down in the dark of her native undercity, the Shrike was surrounded by noise, lights and people, her senses flooded; Adding the passions and fears carried to her by the force was practically an overload.
Now, on her own, with only the cold burning aura of her boss nearby Maris realised just how loud the world had become around the Shrike. “I can’t feel them from here,” she spoke quietly, though a moment later she nodded and stopped before her boss, turning and looking at Enyo, batting long lashes and brushing her hair from her face before closing her eyes.
Maris listened to the wind, hearing the whistling of the air about them, and imagining the thumping of her own heart in her chest. In her mind's eye, the youth could already picture Herk Mallit’s face as he watched her kill his friends. She recalled his face from before too; The sneer on his lips as he prepared to take his revenge on her. Her brows furrowed as she felt the first tendrils of her anger quicken at the memories, remembered the power that had flowed through her from head to toe as she swiped the blade bearing droids from the air.
The youth felt her body tighten as the cold about them seemed to fade away and the wind around Maris died down. Her teeth gritted, the youth felt her fingers curl into tightly clenched fists and her arms become taut. Her mind shifted to Tratten, to the cryptic expressions of Ku Melort, to the face of Bolo as he fell from that height.
To the visions of those people mindlessly feeding credits into a palace of greed and gluttony, to the vista of glistening shard towers filled with more such drones and the oppressed masses living deep below, beneath the weight of such ignorance. Rage coursed through her again, Maris’ lips curled as the feeling seemed to flow out from her and across the platform. The shrike felt as if she was shaking, only a moment later coming to the fact that the whole floating island had started to reverberate under the strain of whatever influence the girl was drawing upon.
She felt her mouth open, even with her eyes shut the youth could see, and a moment later she heard her own enraged scream shatter the silence.
[member="Enyo Typhos"]
