Abelain Narv'uk
The Bloodseeker
For all the time that Abelain had spent exploring the galaxy, and for all of the metropolises and urban areas that he had run across, he had never quite grown used to the overwhelming amount of noise common in heavily populated places. His own home world had been inhabited by a remarkably low number of persons when compared to the vast ecumenopoli which were often located throughout the major core worlds. Even when the One Sith had owned Coruscant, and he had spent several weeks there, he had never grown used to the noise.
He tried in vain to ignore the blaring sound of persons meandering hither and thither, but it was an altogether awkward arrangement, and he found himself frustratingly glaring at the door far more often than he would have liked, the scent of blood alerting him to the presence and physiological conditions of those who so blatantly interrupted his rest. There were moments when the darker energies that surrounded him urged him to simply give in to his frustration, and to ram his lightsaber through the doorway and into the unsuspecting soul who had deemed it reasonable to march up and down the hallway a dozen times, but he restrained himself on the basis of being a decent guest.
A surprising amount of politics now lay in his own behavior, and that added an additional layer of stress to his already busy schedule. Of course, he had not been summoned before the Queen after their last discussions with the Councilor, but it stood to reason that the instant anything went wrong on Ghul, or there was an issue communicating, or goodness forbid one of her researchers was eaten by a wild animal; it happened quite often on Ghul, she would call upon him and ask him to explain.
Another fresh body meandered outside of his room, and he scented the aroma of their blood, the succulent flavoring that lingered upon the air, even as the crimson delicacy flowed uninhibited through their veins. Ah, if only he might have stumbled upon them an instant after they had met an unfortunate demise so that he might satiate the lusty desire for consumption that rattled around in his alien stomach.
Perhaps a meal of that nature would do him well, he considered as he brushed open the door, and exited the structure in search of something suitable to eat. He stalked along the alleyways and corridors of the city, twisting and turning until he picked up a scent that was notably non-sapient; at least, he had never smelled it before and so he presumed that it was non-sapient. The galaxy was arguably a rather large place, and the potential for error was always present, but he doubted he was incorrect in his assumption.
It took him little time at all to find the creature, and he was relieved to discover that he had been correct in his analysis. There was little doubt that the pitiful beast was incapable of conscious thought. Its fur was unruly and messy, and the bottoms of its legs were coated in a thick layer of mud and detritus, its head seemed to be stained somewhat by what he identified as the blood of other creatures, none of which scented of any species he was familiar with; the alternative was far more frightening to consider.
The beast growled, tucking its tail between its legs as it bared its teeth angrily. Abelain for his part simply raised a hand towards it, as though he were attempting to console it from an attack, though the radiant dark side energies which poured off of him would have informed any Force sensitive of his true motives even before their eyes could discern his plan. The creature levitated upwards, letting loose a shriek of both fear and anger, beginning to elicit a cacophony of violent noises before it was promptly thudded with force into the side of the nearest wall.
After the third or fourth thrashing, the thing was entirely limp, its bones broken, and its life having ceased. The method of killing had managed to preserve a majority of the animal's blood, and he promptly dragged it to himself, snapping into its side and beginning to drain it. He did not bother consuming the flesh for fear of parasitic lifeforms inhabiting the unclean musculature, but he was satisfied with the taste of his crimson meal.
As he ate, the proximity of the spilled meal was enough to blot out most of his situational awareness, his attention directed entirely on the small furry corpse. He only hoped that he would not be interrupted as he ate.
[member="Ghorua the Shark"]
He tried in vain to ignore the blaring sound of persons meandering hither and thither, but it was an altogether awkward arrangement, and he found himself frustratingly glaring at the door far more often than he would have liked, the scent of blood alerting him to the presence and physiological conditions of those who so blatantly interrupted his rest. There were moments when the darker energies that surrounded him urged him to simply give in to his frustration, and to ram his lightsaber through the doorway and into the unsuspecting soul who had deemed it reasonable to march up and down the hallway a dozen times, but he restrained himself on the basis of being a decent guest.
A surprising amount of politics now lay in his own behavior, and that added an additional layer of stress to his already busy schedule. Of course, he had not been summoned before the Queen after their last discussions with the Councilor, but it stood to reason that the instant anything went wrong on Ghul, or there was an issue communicating, or goodness forbid one of her researchers was eaten by a wild animal; it happened quite often on Ghul, she would call upon him and ask him to explain.
Another fresh body meandered outside of his room, and he scented the aroma of their blood, the succulent flavoring that lingered upon the air, even as the crimson delicacy flowed uninhibited through their veins. Ah, if only he might have stumbled upon them an instant after they had met an unfortunate demise so that he might satiate the lusty desire for consumption that rattled around in his alien stomach.
Perhaps a meal of that nature would do him well, he considered as he brushed open the door, and exited the structure in search of something suitable to eat. He stalked along the alleyways and corridors of the city, twisting and turning until he picked up a scent that was notably non-sapient; at least, he had never smelled it before and so he presumed that it was non-sapient. The galaxy was arguably a rather large place, and the potential for error was always present, but he doubted he was incorrect in his assumption.
It took him little time at all to find the creature, and he was relieved to discover that he had been correct in his analysis. There was little doubt that the pitiful beast was incapable of conscious thought. Its fur was unruly and messy, and the bottoms of its legs were coated in a thick layer of mud and detritus, its head seemed to be stained somewhat by what he identified as the blood of other creatures, none of which scented of any species he was familiar with; the alternative was far more frightening to consider.
The beast growled, tucking its tail between its legs as it bared its teeth angrily. Abelain for his part simply raised a hand towards it, as though he were attempting to console it from an attack, though the radiant dark side energies which poured off of him would have informed any Force sensitive of his true motives even before their eyes could discern his plan. The creature levitated upwards, letting loose a shriek of both fear and anger, beginning to elicit a cacophony of violent noises before it was promptly thudded with force into the side of the nearest wall.
After the third or fourth thrashing, the thing was entirely limp, its bones broken, and its life having ceased. The method of killing had managed to preserve a majority of the animal's blood, and he promptly dragged it to himself, snapping into its side and beginning to drain it. He did not bother consuming the flesh for fear of parasitic lifeforms inhabiting the unclean musculature, but he was satisfied with the taste of his crimson meal.
As he ate, the proximity of the spilled meal was enough to blot out most of his situational awareness, his attention directed entirely on the small furry corpse. He only hoped that he would not be interrupted as he ate.
[member="Ghorua the Shark"]