The rain lashing down in sheets left him unperturbed, a minor inconvenience that required little expenditure of precious energy to cast aside and render irrelevant, but nonetheless cloaked the permacrete streets in a dim light that made those given off by the signs, stores and buildings that much more illuminating. And so our metaphor extends further, he thought wryly, observing all this with a dispassionate eye. Where the darkness gathers, the light shines through strongly, but in the presence of strong light, darkness is only ever reaffirmed. The irony had never been lost on him, but it seemed more appropriate in this moment.
Energetic signatures in this place changed rapidly from moment to moment, beings scurrying around in an effort to get out of the deluge, an amusing attempt to escape the wrath of the natural world imposing itself upon the artificial one. There were faint undercurrents of dangerous intent, but these were detached from the world he could sense around him: the echoes of a desire latently held but not yet acted upon or enjoyed. There were Force Sensitives here, too, he could sense that much, but such a thing was common enough on the billions of worlds that made up the Galaxy: of those, only a tiny fraction had sufficient sensitivity to be of any true value, and only a small number of those would ever realise their potential. To be surrounded by beings touched by the Force was, ultimately, irrelevant. I have not come here for all of them.
Still, it did not do to cast himself forth like a shadow that might be observed by all standing close enough to observe where it cancelled out the light. His grey eyes fixed forward upon the street, he inhaled a soft breath, drawing his senses inward as he did so, closing that inner eye and yet rendering him similarly invisible to the senses of others: a double-edged weapon he wielded so rarely, one that blinded him from them as much as it served to conceal his own presence. But sometimes subtlety demands that we simply blend in.
A Wookiee came to stand before him, roaring at him in that absurd inarticulate language that no Human could ever mimic effectively, holding a girl that looked bereft of more than a few meals, the furry being gesturing towards the small human as though expected him to do something about her. I could always arrange to have her butchered for your next meal, if you feel so inclined, he thought coldly, dismissing them both as irrelevant. With his ethereal senses blind, he could not tell if either of them had a touch of the Force, but it was not something he cared to discern. Take your disputes elsewhere, he told them silently, staring balefully with eyes that firmly expressed the dispassionate apathy he felt.
The girl sorted the situation out herself in due course, plucking herself from the Wookiee's arms and running off, undoubtedly taking that moment of hesitation as an opportunity to gain her freedom from such an absurd captor, one that would hopefully find other people to bother now that his charge had fled from him. Which suits me perfectly fine. In truth, he was beginning to regret having come to this planet.
None of this was moving him closer to his goal, however. And yet the Force led me to this spot, he reflected calmly. Perhaps it would be best simply to wait, see how things unfold. Sooner or later, his target would come to him. The Force will see to it. It always did.
[member="Damien Daemon"] | [member="Leo Vandermolen"] | [member="Blake Morrigan"] | [member="Shorarri"] | [member="Lark"]
