Over the Head

[Tschov Bolyn]

There was something about the underlevels that held a certain appeal. Maybe it was the abundance of nooks and crannies untouched by the light of day. Or perhaps the fact that law enforcement was more than willing to turn a blind eye to any old civilian death.

No, Tschov corrected the internal monologue that had plagued her since arriving on this system. It's the wandering prey who don't know how over their heads they are. Hidden amongst the poor excuse of sentients that took up the underlevels, there was a particularly strong life force she had marked as her prey. The location of said prey? Down the street, to the left? No. Up a couple alleys? No. The Anzat hung back from general foot traffic, scanning the crowds, avoiding the gazes of passerbys.

There.

One person, wandering the crowds, head seemingly in the crowds. Perfect.

Slipping past civilians, keeping her presence hidden as any would, she made her way towards the unfortunate fellow, briefly entertaining scenarios to get them out of public eye. A brief smirk flashed across her features, an idea coming to mind.

Waiting a beat, she increased her pace, taking on the guise of someone concerned, pressed for time.

"Someone, anyone, you! Help, please!"

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

His mind was like a fortress with its gates barred and heavily guarded. There was no man, woman, or creature that could pierce the mental defenses he'd erected around his faculties. This kept the thoughts of the thousands around him from piercing his thoughts, allowing the Archlord a semblance of peace. Clad in a long black coat and simple jeans, he looked anything if not average. Eyes like that of storm clouds swept from one corner of the street to the next. The night was a dark one, though the neon lights of numerous different drinking holes did well to illuminate things. He passed by a den of ill repute when he heard the sound of a woman's voice. A hand rose to brush through his crop of short black hair as he turned to face her, a brow raised.

He came to the underlevels to see his people, and more importantly, to understand what they needed. Attempts had been made to civilize the dregs of society, and they had been largely successful. Even still, there were sections of Ession consumed by the vice. Women still whored themselves on street corners, and the spice still flowed in the taverns that DSB had not already placed on significant watch. It was this that Cedric sought to correct, and to do that, he needed to see it with his own eyes.

Thin lips pursed in silent question as the woman pleaded again. She was a pretty thing with hair much like his own, and eyes of a similar shade. Her features were high browed and haughty, much like the Essonian nobility. A detached part of Cedric thought she was striking. The majority of him went on guard.

"What's the issue?" He asked, his voice gruff albeit laced with compassion. He waved her toward the side of the street so that he might hear her better.

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

Easy enough, so far. Tschov's face melded into something akin to concern. Rather, she hoped it looked concerned. Mimicking other sentients in appearance was easy enough. In action, however, was another story entirely. She glanced over her shoulder, partially checking for witnesses, more so concerned in determining where exactly this little charade should lead.

"There were these kids, playing," she started, using her lack of improv experience and the shakiness that came with it for a more emotional performance. "Some men showed up, saying something about getting what they were owed, I don't really know. I-I tried to stop them but, well, look at me." Cutting the story off while she was ahead, impatience in the hunt starting to weigh in on judgement, she gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't know who else to go to. Please, help them."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Such things were unfortunately not uncommon down here. The youth often found themselves wrapped up in skeems far beyond their ken, and disaster followed shortly thereafter. Such issues would normally be dealt with by the police, for even down here there was no such thing as true lawlessness, but getting them would take far too long. Cedric only needed a handful of seconds to run through his options. He carried his father's weapon within his jacket, though he doubted he would need to use it. A simple rewiring of the minds should do it.

A pale hand was held up for the girl to cease.

"The local thugs. Nothing beyond what I can handle," he muttered, offering the woman a smile that would have comforted most. It was a confident one - assuring those that saw it that Cedric could have the situation handled in just a few moments.

If there was any hint that he understood the misconduct being undertaken, then it did not show.

"Lead the way, and quickly now. When we arrive, you can just stand back. The problem will be resolved quickly."

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

In all her years this was by far one of the easier charades she'd pulled. Very few had gone this smoothly, even with far more polished acting on her part. She felt a brief twinge of pity for the other. For such a strong life force, he was incredibly gullible, not that she had any right to complain about an easy meal.

"Are you sure? They-they had blasters. I wouldn't want anyone else to get killed." If a maniacal laugh was within the range or interests of her internal monologue, now would've been the perfect time for it. Humans were just so simple to manipulate, so quick to play the hero.

"R-right. This way." She took off, dashing through the crowd, looking back every so often to be sure he followed, finally coming to a stop in a more abandoned area. "They were here, last I saw them."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

There was a certain suspicion to the way she moved. Perhaps it was the way she broke into a run, or perhaps it was the odd tremble in her voice, but something set Cedric on edge. That being said, it may very well have been the adrenaline that often came when one was about to find themselves in a dangerous situation. It was quite likely that his sudden suspicion was anything but logical, and his mind was simply on a hair trigger at the moment. Then again, he may have been right.

"Blasters are no issue for me," he answered reassuringly. He had commanded some of the galaxy's greatest armies across the stars in conquest. A few thugs were not going to intimidate him. Besides, if he couldn't help his people on the home front, then what good was he?

"And now they're gone," his brow furrowed. His senses extended outward beyond the alley they had found themselves in, but he felt nothing. Those that wandered by were far away now, and there were no traces of a struggle anywhere nearby.

Cedric's brow furrowed. "You think to play me?" He asked, arms lax at his sides. Despite his sudden realization, it seemed he had little intention of getting into any kind of conflict with the woman.

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

The closer they got to that particular area, the less she bothered with the facade, eventually dropping it entirely. With her target basically cornered, she dipped into a far more comfortable, predatorial posture. Part of her was hoping he'd go out with a fight, present some sort challenge despite being so easily tricked. The other, far more interested in the meal ahead rather than playing with the food itself.

"Thinking would imply that I haven't begun already, would it not?" Voice dipping into a hiss, once hidden proboscises freeing themselves from pockets of either side of her nose, twitching in anticipation. "Now, if you don't resist, this won't hurt at all." Wasting no time in waiting for a reply, she lunged.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Were he an ignorant fellow, Cedric might have fallen prey to the woman's intentions. He had not expected to see an Anzat here on Ession. Their race was not particularly populous, and they tended to stay away from the capital world due to the large amount of trained force sensitives on the planet. This one was bold, desperate perhaps. The Archlord's brow furrowed as her proboscises stretched forward to turn his mind into an easily digested slush.

That would not be happening.

The woman lunged, and so did Cedric, only his was within the ethereal realm. His presence reached out, his mind opening to this bold creature. It fell upon her own like a tidal wave, seeking to shatter her mental defenses with Cedric's own iron will.

The intention was simple: to stop her right where she stood.

"If you don't resist, this won't hurt at all," he echoed her words, a hint of arrogant amusement lacing his voice. "You made a poor choice of prey."

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

If strong life forces had a particularly exquisite flavor, force sensitives were a delicacy. Tschov hadn't ruled out the possibility that this one was a force sensitive, but she hadn't anticipated the mental attack. Not one of that magnitude, at least, whatever defenses she had easily swept away, keeping her frozen in place.

With little other course of action, she glared daggers at the would-be prey. The thrill of the hunt interfered with self preservation, trading reason for nonsensical, sanity for animosity. "Hardly a poor choice, I'd say. The payoff's going to far outweigh anything you could deal out."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The will did not waver, even as the Anzat looked upon him with obvious animosity. Her gaze was intense; predatory and murderous. He had no doubt that if she was allowed be set free, then she would pounce upon him. This was no please to meet his end, here in an unmarked alley with the dregs of society. No, he held her in place as best he could. The mind was his realm to rule, and there were few individuals whose thoughts he could not conquer. Even if this Anzat broke free...well, he would have his answers nonetheless.

"I could snap your neck right now and be done with it woman," Cedric answered sharply. "You are at my mercy. Do not think it to be otherwise." That much was only partly true. He could influence thoughts, perhaps stifle her desire to attack him, but he was not all powerful.

The will did not waver.

"Are you the one responsible for the disappearances in this area lately?" He reached up to prod one of the proboscises, confident he could keep them from piercing his flesh for the moment. "Or perhaps it's the gangs, and you're only trying to survive?"

Cedric lofted a brow.

"Which is it?"

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

"Then why haven't you done so already?" The words came out a mix between hiss and snarl. The moment she had the slightest opportunity, she had every intention of ripping him to shreds. Even if he somehow stilled her immediate bloodlust, having such a delicacy just out of reach was maddening. Being rendered immobile, by means not of the physical world, no less, was an insult.

Had she any control of her limbs, she would've jerked away from his reach. Frozen as such, she could only muster something akin to a growl. His question was unexpected - a life or death situation and he asks about a different matter entirely? Sure, she'd fed once or twice since arriving on the system, yet she severely doubted those were the disappearances he was talking about. Still, she was far too petty too just give up that kind of information. "You seem to think you're so powerful, why don't you find out yourself?"

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"Because I have mercy." There was nothing to his words. They were cold, factual things that lacked any form of empathy or disdain. He did not hate the women for what she had tried to do to him, nor did he have any inclinations of redemption of the like that would have affected others of his ken. No, Cedric Grayson was apathetic - he did not care.

"I had thought to let you tell me on your own, however I have means I can employ if you choose to be so...stubborn." The Archlord's brow furrowed as he held out a hand. It was pale and calloused, as harsh as the man to which it belonged.

The hand pressed open palmed against the woman's brow, and then came the mental assault.

Cedric's presence was like a cleansing flame, moving to burn away whatever resistance she might have provided and open her mind for his perusal. He would dive into recent memories, past memories, and perhaps even some of the darker things that most would keep hidden from the galaxy. The mind was Cedric's realm, and he was its lord.

The Anzat had welcomed this intrusion with her refusal to cooperate. Cedric felt nothing toward this terribly intimate invasion of privacy, simple desire to find out if the woman had anything to do with the deaths of his people.

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

"Denying someone a meal is hardly a mercy," bitter sarcasm nearly palpable, Tschov continued to fight against the mental restraints to no avail. The implication that anything about this situation was merciful was a joke, and the delivery, lacking.

The Anzat's initial reaction was to resist. After all, the reverse roll of who was in whose mind was down right unnatural, an experience she wanted to stop. A brief moment, she entertained the idea that it was some sort of poetic justice that the rolls be reversed. Granted, if she was the one invading the other's mind, the chances of him surviving were minuscule.

Along with Tschov's own memories, those of her past victims, now portions of the Silent Voices, also came to light. Their hopes, aspirations, and that oh-so delectable fear that came with the last moments of their life. She, personally, had no problem recalling the memories. Quite frankly, she hoped the intruder wouldn't fair so well. Enjoy the show?

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"And letting you try to kill me would be a waste of time on my part," Cedric fired back.

The memories that came to greet him were anything if pleasant. They were the echoes of a broken mind; the promise of death and despair beyond that of a mortal ken. They whispered songs of annihilation in the back of his mind, and he could feel their death screams clawing at the back of his consciousness like a ravenous beast. These violated spirits wanted him to experience the same sort of pain they had been forced to undergo in their last moments of life.

It would have broken most men, but not Cedric.

The Jedi Lord straitened up, his hand never leaving the brow of the Anzat. He doubted it could if he wished it to. The temporary link she had forged was a particularly potent one, even devastating in certain regards. If broken, it threatened to rip apart his own mind with its leaving.

"I would be doing the galaxy a favor were I to kill you now," his words were quiet monotone things. "So much death just so you can feed your appetite. I pity you." The link weakened, yet Cedric remained. His will was battered, but it did not waver. It could not waver.

"This world is my home, and your presence here would lead to the deaths of many were I to let you go, my own likely included." The words were spoken through the mind rather than physically. "Do you feel any guilt for this suffering? For the lives and families your appetite has destroyed? Any regret? Or are you nothing more than a cold beast?"

[member="Tschov Bolyn"]

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

There was a sense of both dismay and begrudging respect for the man who appeared near unfazed by the mental onslaught of her victims. Also a slight annoyance that his hand had yet to break contact with her brow. Physical contact of any kind (aside from keeping a meal in place, of course) was an antonym of all Anzat customs stood around.

"One could argue that, yes," she didn't bother denying what would be considered true by the general populace. "But the killing won't stop with the death us just one of my kind. Would you stoop as low as genocide?" She quite enjoyed being the one posing the questions now, studying his reactions with vague interest. "Do you also pity the butcher that slaughters livestock?"

"People die everyday, everywhere, regardless of whether or not I go free." The Anzat did not, could not, see the point in stating such obvious facts. Of course she'd kill again if she wasn't killed now. Of course she'd strike him down the first chance she had. "Do you feel guilt after stepping on an insect? Why should I feel anything towards mere food?" There was nothing to feel remorse over. Anyone who'd allow themselves to get caught up in such trivialities was a fool.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]