The disposition of the shrike, untethered.

[Reverance]

Maena​

Wherever monsters sleep… ​

Hands moved across the board of ivory, gliding over the gloss as matte of black interrupted the level of his palm. Each note hummed, half depressed, as he looked along the data pad that rested across the sheen of the rosewood piano. Lacquered to a vibrant shine, it was almost distracting. He thumbed his way through the different songs, countless in style and and genre and tone. Organized in whatever way he desired, he ended up with something approaching melancholy.

https://youtu.be/nT7_IZPHHb0​

The world of Maena was ever persistent in its reminder of the duality of the universe. That with the good, one needed to accept the bad - to ascertain the pleasure, one must learn from the pain. A mugger steals money, the victim realizes how lucky they are to be alive. The storms roar above, destroying homes, only to give people appreciation for the things that remain. He, of course, tilted towards a far more drastic and visceral approach but nevertheless, he appreciated the leaning of an entire world. So it only made sense that sadness should pour through his fingers, even as a particularly spectacular sunrise greeted him through partially opened auburn blinds.

The smell of fresh caf filled his nose as he considered what he had read in the evening news, prior to this forgiving morning. The news described an obscene murder spree, the sort that reminded him of the early works of a certain Atrisian God. Patterns were few and far between, but a connection was made that tied it to a singular entity. That entity, of course, was still a mystery for those investigating the deaths - because they approached these cases from the perspective of sanity, not realizing that frame of view dictated the ability to perceive hypotheticals and casualty. It was an illusion, the sense of safety in law enforcement that had been bought and paid for, money dolled out to the hardly capable - but the thin veneer was likely better than nothing at all, if only to appease the masses.

His knuckles were bruised where they hit bone, scraped where teeth cut open skin. But everyone talks, especially when you threaten their family. With a couple of hard hits and a candid conversation from a man who would kill planets to get what he wanted, Reverance had managed to put a freeze on the investigation. Even put a halt in documenting an untainted crime scene. Once Raj was awake and ready to proceed to the lower levels of New City, deep within the belly of the 500s, he’d take her. And see what powers truly lied beneath the untarnished skin of someone who survived what millions couldn't.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

The smell of caf and the sound of Rev at the piano was a distinctly pleasant way to wake up.

Even knowing their plans for today and what they entailed, Raj lay curled up in the large bed, warm and perfectly content to not rise right away. To let the sunrise filter through the window and the sound of the music plucked from ivory keys lull everything. She smiled, stretching finally.

A few minutes later she was leaning over his shoulder, laying a casual kiss on his jawline, her hands full with an offering of caf for him as well as one of her own. He scooted over slightly and she slid onto the bench, listening without a word as he continued through the piece. While they had things to do, neither of them was particularly prone to rushing when there was no need of it. While much of her time was spent on Coruscant these days, the regular returns to Maena were important to her.

Of course, this wasn't merely a visit.

He had asked if he could teach her, and she had agreed. Other work had kept it from happening immediately. Setting up the facility on Coruscant and her studies, his own tasks that she had not pried into. But when an excuse had arisen for them both to set those things aside for a time? Well, she had met him here the night before, enjoyed company-

Now?

"Shall we?" She murmured, only when the piece came to a close. After all, there had been not a single chance she would interrupt his playing. Not when she enjoyed it so much.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

The piano keys chirped their final notes at the draw down of the sonata. With her taking a seat next to him, silent and eyes filled with something that taken time to arrive, he smiled slightly as he withdrew his hands. The tender kiss on the jaw, the offered caf, it seemed otherworldly when compared to what the day had in store. Monsters, lazily hanging in the limbo between events of catastrophe, taking in the brevity of these softer times. Lions, licking blood from each others manes.

Drawing the ceramic cups to his lips, he winced at the surprising temperature as he sipped, taking in the tones and flavor. It was a rich thing, warm to the touch, full to the body. But he wasn't here for caf. He was here for her, caught between the worlds of Nadir and Maena and so many others. He was beginning to appreciate the transient nature of his existence, removed beyond the desire for conquest. This was a form of challenge, though it ran deeper than taking worlds.

"Yes...in a second." He placed the caf back on the piano top, finding leverage on the bench, as he leaned over towards her. Pressing his nose into the crook of her neck, nuzzling, he placed a kiss against her throat - right where the pulse could be seen and felt if one just paid attention. He didn't need to say it, lips could speak without talking. That he had missed her, like the time spent between nightclubs and rainy days on Maena. Maybe that time gave him perspective on what was important.

"Alright, if you're ready." He stepped up, donning not more than slacks and a button up white shirt that was trimmed and fitted properly for his size. Grabbing a set of keys off the top of the piano, he took another sip of the caf before looking towards her. He wasn't expecting trouble, not that it would really matter. These things tended to gravitate towards him. Nevertheless, he was armed with nothing more than a pad for doodling and a stylus that might make a good stabbing item in desperate times.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

She smiled as his 'in a second' became clear. Lowering her own cup of caf, she tilted her head enough for full access, eyes closing for a moment and a contented hum murmured from deep in her throat as he offered meaning against it. The cup of caf, the kiss on his jaw had been her way of saying she was happy he was there- the hum answered his equally, missed and been missed.

Focused between Maena and Coruscant, Irajah felt equally at home both places- Maena familiar and comfortable both in sensations and company, while Coruscant offered her work.... and the life she and Jairus were building, one slow brick at a time. She did not feel torn or lost between the two, weaving them together into a tapestry that told a story she was only just beginning.

Turning her face against his for a moment, she ran lips just over the curve of his ear before they parted, coming away with a smile that was softer than the smirk she frequently offered him. But only for a moment. Taking one last sip from her own mug, she settled it beside his and stood.

Unlike the last few times they had spent in each other's company, Irajah was more practically dressed. Dark hooded tunic belted over snug leggings and tucked into calf high boots. Comfortable, easy to move in. Reaching down, she retrieved a small satchel from beside the piano, shrugging it over her shoulder with a practiced motion. Sliding it around, strap crossed between her breasts it settled at the small of her back, out of the way and entirely ignorable until it might be needed.

"Yes," her smile turning brighter and slightly crooked, as it tended to be when she was at ease. She was expecting trouble. But then, Irajah had learned to always expect trouble. Between the two of them, well, it was inevitable.

They headed down, the tower quiet as it was wont to be. The city itself, however, was the roiling mess it always was. Of course, that was part of its appeal.

"Where do we start," she asked quietly as she moved beside him, head tipping up slightly to glance at him out of the corner of her eyes.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

​Conflict brewed on Nadir. Between the cultists that seemed to be popping up everywhere, and the turmoil of a brother that he couldn't seem to kill, he felt that he was losing a sense of control that was once so prominent in his life. He admitted to love, only to feel the sting of all of its consequences. Not that it changed how he felt, it was just a level of strife that he wasn't accustomed. He and Aver had been together since the early wars of the One Sith, dating back to the reclaiming of Kashyyyk. But it was only when they had been honest with each other that the cracks were revealed beneath the dust, removed by warm breath. And those cracks would eventually need filling.

​Raj was more than just a distraction to him, quickly becoming more than just a curiosity or another thing to play with. He had asked her, when they first met, what made her so special. And as the days went by, it seemed the answer would repeatedly surface beneath lapping waves. A rocky monolith, buried just beneath the crests of white, that reveals itself most keenly in the recession of a great wave. And his ship was caught on it, anchored and stabilized.

​They exited the tower to find a speeder parked nearby, a rather loathsome individual scurrying away at the sign of Reverance and Raj. He stood quietly, tonguing the side of his cheek, as he watched the rat move along with a hefty bit of credit in his pocket. Hired by the former Wrath, the mustached figure was nothing more than a city mouse that had been given valet responsibilities for the day.

​"To get to the heart of it..." He looked over to her with a smirk. "We'll need to take a ride."

​The closed cabin let out a pressurized breath as he swung her door open, looking in. It was the first time he had gotten a look at it. The speeder was sharp, painted gun steel, and felt like edges pressed across a frame. It was a scalpel, which was good. Would need it to cut through the skin and fat of the upper layers.

​Taking a seat on the drivers side, he waited for her to hop in and close the upswinging door. Pressing keys across the low hanging roof, blackened fingers transitioned to the dash in front of him as he put in intended location and corresponded with traffic control.

​::Sigma 14, this is air traffic control. We see you're looking to descend beyond the 200 levels. We can't safely advise that at the current time, sulfurous clouds are causing a bit of disruption between level 212 and 245.::
​::Understood. I'm forwarding clearance codes for authorization.::

Reverance looked into the dash as there was a pause.

::Understood. Good day.::

​He pressed a few more buttons and the power kicked on. The speeder lifted from the platform and took a turn as they headed towards the gaping maw in New City, the tunnel where they were descend into the belly of the beast.

​[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah wasn't much impressed by fancy speeders, but she *did* appreciate a tool well made for its use. With an eye more accustomed to biological systems and medical equipment, she scanned over the sleek machine with a certain appreciation. It gave her the same impression it had given him- scalpel- a tool simple in it's beauty. Elegant and fine but with a purpose required quality.

She smiled up at him when he opened the door for her, sliding in and reaching up to draw it closed. The barest whisper of pressure, a soft hiss. Slender fingers ran casually across the interior dash in front of her, settling back comfortably.

"I haven't gone into the lower levels," she said absently, more curious than concerned. There had never been a particular reason to. A few clinics she had drawn subjects from, but they were still close enough to the surface to see the sky.

They shifted into the scant flow of traffic, but only for a moment. After all, most of the movement on this level was lateral- these people had little to no reason to go down.

Raj smiled, a crooked flicker of amusement and she shook her head slightly.

As always with Rev, he found ways to show her new depths. Experience with him seemed bottomless, the next level down unfathomable until they were actually there. And then it seemed as though it had never been strange and distant at all. Just one step off of the familiar instead of fear of aphotic depths.

In truth, from the beginning, she had never been afraid of Reverance. It wasn't because she dismissed him- far from it. Here was a dangerous animal in the wild. She could see the teeth and razor claws, the way it stalked, the way it eviscerated its prey. She was well aware that, in different circumstances, she could have been that prey. And yet....

And yet she easily opened the cage door, bumping heads and stroking ears. Running hands over fur and claws alike. Accepting bite and scratch offered in affection, only shades off of what could consume her.

She did not regret opening that lock.

The speeder cut through the murk as they descended, the sight of yellow, sulfurous clouds roiling beneath them. Reminders, of the planet's volcanic heart and the events that had led to it being rebuilt by the woman who had originally been the bridge between them. Now, however, they were here for the other, no external link required.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

​"Most prefer to avoid it and for good reasons. " The ship cut hard through the traffic. Like a surgical tool pushing through the fat and skin of traffic, flowing against them, he pushed down on the accelerator as they descended straight down. Braces within the ship anchored them to their seats as he strung his hands across the top of the dash. "Murder, disease, plagues, cults..." He looked towards her from the corner of his eye. "A place for all forms. Including us."

​He turned the wheel and they spun, the whirl of another speeder headlights caught his window as they nearly clipped the tail end. He furrowed his brow as they continued, pushing through the sulfurous clouds that were reported by air traffic control. The lights of advertisements were nearly blinding at the surface and as if following the money, they began to diminish as one descended into the depths of New City. People didn't prosper here. They barely even survived, making wages that were skating by on bare minimum. What blaring billboards were left were advertisements for medical visits, urging people to get regular checks for common viruses and sexually transmitted diseases. They even did the ​favor ​of making the advertisements incorporate beautiful people. The sort that would never be seen in the three or four hundreds.

​Condensation was trapped in the sulfurous clouds and in the lower levels, an atmosphere formed of it's own accord. From breath, from industrial machines releasing hazardous chemicals, or from the refuse dropped by the upper echelons. When it rained, one couldn't be sure if it was water, bile, or acid wash. Or a combination of all three.

​As the speeder broke through the smog, the air seemed to be perpetually filled with haze. Contrails of jaundice followed them as the speeder leveled off, the traffic all but non existent. Pulling up the data pad, he flicked through the crime scene information. Looking for something in particular. And there it was.

​"The Lime Array Apartment Complex. Security forces call it the LAAC district because of how big the building is. Based on the demographics, it's a city within New City. Many years ago, the complex was quarantined off due to a plague outbreak and during that time, the apartments developed their economy, security force, everything. Drugs, industry, sex, violence, criminal activity...even unique forms of body disposal. Now, free of disease, they thrive to such an extent that they are better off left alone - cost of re-integration was decidedly too high for the minimal return on investment. " He flipped through another page as he handed over the datapad to Raj. "The Maena Security Council doesn't often dole out ​security ​in this place but due to the nature of the crime, a shaky accord was struck."

​He turned the wheel and cut at a gradual angle downward. "The LAAC district spans multiple levels on the interior of the 300's, across nearly a quarter mile. They have landing pads we can use for entrance."

​[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

"Across a quarter of a mile....." Irajah trailed off, slender fingers flicking through the information as it scrolled past- surely too fast for someone to absorb and yet-

"This population density can't be right," she muttered, hazel iris's flicking up right to left and back again as she ran the numbers in her head.

"They're stacked on top of each other like sardines."

An exaggeration, but only slightly. In truth, she was half talking to herself, almost as much as to Rev as she mused.

"Without outside aid, proper doctors, birth control, taking into account crime and drug use, the violence and malnutrition, the population should have stabilized years ago. There shouldn't be half this many people living there, Rev. Less than that even. But these estimates..."

She trailed off, frowning and thoughtful. She didn't know what it meant yet, if it meant anything at all. But it bothered her, on a logical, intrinsic level. Something settling like a burning in the pit of her stomach when the data did not match up to the observed stimuli. It irritated her, to realize there was some variable in play that had yet to be measured and accounted for.

It was messy, and not in a way she approved of.

The air outside the speeder was thick, almost gelled against the glass. Simply the air pollution alone should be dropping the life expectancy and raising child mortality rates to account for-

She spent most of the trip down, flicking through the information, muttering this detail or that, far more annoyed by this than by the murders themselves. Even if she didn't have the answers to those yes, it did not vex necessarily. She was in truth more interested in his interest. She wasn't there for the mystery, not exactly. Not directly.

Like a miniature mountain, the Lime Array apartments melted out of the thick yellow miasma. She paused in her musings to look up at the particular cell. Most of the exterior windows were broken, boarded up from the inside. Those that weren't still sported the wrapped plastic, red x's spray painted roughly, left behind from that long ago quarantine.

"Somehow I doubt there is a parking lot convenient," she said absently and then pointed out a literal hole in the side of the building, the lights of the speeder sweeping past it.

"I don't know if we want to fly right in, but I *do* want to know what made a hole that looks like it was *burned* into the brick."

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

Countenance contorted ever wiredrawn, the hint of a smirk breathing outwards from the corner of his lips. Rough skin, worn from use and scars, failed to hide the amusement at the bemusement of such a poorly thought out apartment complex. He had the same reaction when he read over the census information, until he dived a bit deeper. She would see soon enough.

The flight continued as they passed by levels upon levels until, along the stygian horizon of New City's underbelly, the LAAC came into view. From afar, it looked like a brick wall that had formed beneath the tutelage of multiple masons. Uneven stepping, poor deterioration of mortar, oblique construction practices, and a total lack of color symmetry. But as they got closer, those bricks revealed themselves as houses or individual apartments.

The original sizing of the facility had been stretched beyond reason. Where the schematics were once sound, it now was an incondite hodgepodge of structures that failed to comply with any form of building codes. A gallimaufry of inconsistent systems that resembled a game of stacking stones, just to see how many could be placed before toppling. Water lines, septic systems, and electrical infrastructure hung from the exterior like ornaments from a tree, bouncing and colliding with every strong wind or vibration from a jackhammer.

But wind wasn't common here, air taking on a toxic tone that steered headlong into a state of pre congealment. Above, communication lines ran across the roofing and were strung between uneven tops like jostling cats cradles. Rain collected in the basins of satellite systems, hinged and decrepit in standing above the LAAC, where invasive and hearty bird species used these baths for their monthly acid washes.

“They took it upon themselves to build outward…” He pointed out the window, a long span of apartments that stuck out from the LAAC like a massive foot. Beneath it, an expanse of black and emptiness. “It's adhered to the complex by columns that extend deep into the obsidian rock. Sever that, or even change the weighting at too great a scale…and it will break off at center point.” A catastrophe, to be sure. “Policies require that a room be 2.1 meters tall to be considered a living space. The average height of an apartment in the LAAC is 1.7 meters.” The connecting hallways, dented duracrete and exposed rebar, maintained a more uniform and reasonable height.

The vehicle strafed by the hole once and amid commentary towards this entirely risible circumstance, Reverance released a chuckle before turning her back around. “Yeah, that might be our best shot.”

The hole wasn't gaping but as soon as the control thrusters kicked on, leveling out and washing the building wall with tones of white and blue, their suspicion was confirmed. What stood for air traffic was indicated by vertical red lights within, control glow rods brandished by grimey children and a single ragtag officer. Reverance shook his head as he steered forward and wondered if the kids would get out the way.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

She blinked in surprise as the explanation of demographics unfolded. She offered Rev a sidelong glance, from his face, down to the curve of his hip and then back up again. 1.7 meters? Well, that should be interesting. She was accustomed to her height being a detriment. She wondered how often that was the case for him.

Chewing absently on her lower lip, she swiped back to the information, scant though it was, about what had brought them here. She'd glanced up as he'd brought the speeder through the hole in the side, but did not particularly seem to care about the scene before them.

The children scattered without incident, clearly accustomed to the process, laughing and jeering at the one who had tripped and almost not reached safety in time. Scraped knee and sour face was lost in the shadows and promptly forgotten again. Moments, slices that illustrated this place more surely than the haphazard architecture or sour smell of the air outside of the vehicle. The culture that made it necessary for children who ought to be in school to work in dangerous jobs because they were small and swift. A place where needs be ruled over all else.

As he brought the speeder to a stop, as indicated by the single, beleaguered adult, she tucked the data pad into her bag. The doors swung up, hers then his, and she stepped out into the muggy shadows.

Irajah wrinkled her nose slightly, the acrid bite of heavy chemicals mixing unpleasantly with the scents of too many sentients living too close and without proper oversight. Thick and cloying, settling into a taste at the back of the throat. It was a smell that no one who lived outside of it could ever truly grow accustomed to.

While the older children stayed a healthy distance away from the speeder, the younger ones swarmed right up to it- until the overseer barked something Irajah was not certain was even related to basic, and they scampered back again.

Dressed in a hodgepodge of reclaimed clothing and materials, the near human (perhaps he had been fully human, once upon a time, but Irajah did not even hesitate to label him as only tangentially related to that race in the here and now) tilted his chin up at the pair.

"Fifteen cred ta park."

Irajah arched an eyebrow at him.

​"According to who?"

​He reached down, scratching his protruding belly. Despite that, the rest of the man was stick thin, marking a lifetime of malnourishment coupled with a habit of drink. Bulbous red nose did little to dissuade her assessment.

"Wot? Who? Why da feckin' queen o' Maena 'erself, dat's who!"

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

Phagocytosis came abruptly as the vehicle swiveled and baltered within the cramped confinement, crankling as it could to fit within the claustrophobic port. As his door came open, upended and swinging like a broken wing, Reverance stepped out to a sea of approaching urchins and all the other defenses that such a microcosm had to offer. Appraising crimson eye searched the dank confinement as his free hand swatted the children away, absentmindedly, who had taken to the attractiveness of picking at his pockets.

They would find no purchase. And if it weren't for the volatility of such a world, they would find no survival either. But this was a separate realm from Maena. In the tragedy of a plague, it could have recovered. But stilled away from the noise of modern movement and the cogs of progression, this place had stubbornly resolved to remain intact and unchanging. While technology and modern living had seeped in through the open seams, it was still cramped into a world that it didn't belong. A motley of epochs, anachronisms stitched together to form an environment that was glaringly unnerving.

He heard the comment about parking but was distracted. Pallid lamps lit the multi-storied entrance ways, giving off shimmers of incandescence that bolstered the sultry heat within the large vestibule. The walkways were patch work of rusted steel, wrought iron, and swinging chains that seemed to move of their own volition. The paths were all consistently grated and the acoustics of the surrounding area were overwhelming in characteristics. Like being buffeted by the infrangible noises of a steel and concrete jungle. In the distance, pistons fired off with pops and hisses. With every erection of the joints, steam let loose and showered the railings with condensation - the hypnotic movement concealed sodium bulbs that showered the surrounding area with rusted tinge at every thrust. Children laughed and whispered, little beady eyes and greasy cheeks peering over various guard rails. A flash light flickered through the woods, revealing the eyes of spiders and nocturnal beasts. And the troll belched a sonorous tone, with an itchy palm and dire need.

"Sure..." Reverance stated, maybe surprisingly. But he was told to expect venal tendencies throughout the hellscape of the Lime Array. Sticking a hand in his pocket, he tossed the man a chip that gave way to twenty credits. "Point us in the way of the Kerakatine Wing and we'll be out of your way."

The man was gobsmacked over the payment, hardly a thought paid by the former Wrath. It was pennies and dirt for the wealth he had accumulated and greased wheels spinned better than their rusted counterparts. "Oi, o'vah 'er!" He smiled with a mouth full to the brim of decay and rot, black and yellow teeth apparent even in the sickly light. A hand, marked by rashes and abrasions, pointed up towards a flight of stairs. At the top, a hallway of enclosed metal that bridged one of the many vertical fingers of the LAAC.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah arched an eyebrow, more interest than surprise. She had been about to pay herself- it was easier than making a scene and while she had not yet developed the utter indifference about as the rest of them had, it was such a small thing to ensure they did not return to a gutted transport. In truth, they probably could have given the man five and he would have been content enough. So twenty had him gleam eyed and gap-a-jawed. Of course, she still didn't particular trust them not to strip it down once they were out of sight.

"Nothing is to happen to that speeder," she said softly, leveled at the man as Reverance moved off.

He nodded, hard and vigorously enough that she wondered if a few of his remaining teeth were going to fall out.

"O'course. Ah'll keep it like it's mah own."

"No," Raj said. She smiled, all teeth and no joy. Feral and intent. Despite being taller than her, something in it cause the man to draw back slightly.

"Keep it like it's his."

She followed Rev, catching up with a few hurried paces a moment later.

Her footsteps were nearly silent beside his, even as they stepped out onto the caged bridge. She coughed, frowning, the air more caustic here between the fingers. While the air inside wasn't pleasant, at least the elderly air scrubbers did their best. Here though, it was nothing more than a swaying lacework of metal between them and nothing. Darkness plunged beneath them, further into the depths of the undercity. What lights there were reflected strangely against the yellow haze- not the same level of danger as they had passed through to get here, but unpleasant enough to breath.

Irajah looked down, enjoying, for a moment, the novelty at least.

"I used to be afraid of heights," she murmured absently. "It seems rather silly now..... though," she paused glancing up critically. "I still wouldn't relish a fall."

The bridge creaked and groaned, voices from the metal joints protesting. She could feel the vibrations of his step with each pace forward, and wondered idly at how much traffic it usually saw. And how much more it would tolerate before it failed. She suspected it was much like this place itself. Even when it failed, it would be repurposed into its next incarnation. Something more twisted and uglier than the last.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Reverance]

The ghost of a smile formed across his lips as he heard the finality of her statement, conveyed to the man that may or may not protect that speeder as if it were his own life. Whether he knew the truth of it, they would certainly find out. Perhaps happenstance, perhaps willful intention. Reverance didn’t much care so long as the speeder was there when they were done with the investigation.

She caught up with him, the speedy pitter patter of small feet as they rushed across dented and dinged tin. That ghost of a smile corporealized into something tangible, refined by the rake of his finger nail down the mixing scar where his eye used to be. “We all fall, from time to time. Though I imagine your dance across the Mountain would make this appear as child’s play…”

He stopped, feeling the sway and balter of the relic gantry, shadows and vagrant lights piercing through the pockmarks of the worn span bridge. If he paused just long enough, nearly closing his eye, it almost gave the illusion of stars shining in the undercarriage of Maena - breaking through the thick film of mucky residue that surrounded the molten world. Glancing downward, he leaned forward and pressed his hand against the worn center-path.

Don’t dare fall, who knows what might catch ya! Written first with the jagged edge of knife, repeatedly cut away to engrave the lackluster material with a medium for rust and decay. Reverance looked back just in time to see a small child race by him and Raj, giggling and casting a shadow of his own. The bridge rocked with the momentum, though it was feeble and unremarkable, and he cast his own gaze towards the woman that had joined him for this adventure. For the passing moment, he could find contentment in simply looking at her, taking in the noisy bounce of a bridge that threatened their life with every step. A moment of appreciation, fleeing for the purpose at hand, as he stood up and continued the path towards the end of the walkway.

The bridge narrowed to an extent of confinement, railings enclosing to allow passage of a single person at a time. As he stepped upwards, he suddenly realized with a look back that the bridge was actually paneled by sheets of metal taken from the exterior of passenger cruisers. Windows, covered by flimsy sheets of durasteel, stairs that had been used for entrance on a runway, and thick doors that hung from the banister below by hydraulic cords. It was a frankenstein creation if he had ever seen one, and far more vagarious than he had initially thought.

Turning to offer her his hand up the stairs and into the walkway, he looked over his shoulder to the refuse and waste center that was affectionately referred to as the Kerakatine Wing. Though it was more of an upright finger than a wing, it had the semblance of an official apartment complex. At the very least, a component of it. Trash found home in large pits and piles that stood several meters high, obscuring the view of the center courtyard. Where light might have shown through at one time, attenuation was obscured now by the ad hoc proliferation of new domiciles. Plastered or cemented to the interior courtyard walls of every level, Reverance looked up to what appeared to be a balancing jenga act of stepping stone apartments. All working together to block the view of the sky and molten walls that hung high above the Kerakatine Wing.

“Seven stories up, should put us in the right area...I’m sure they have stairs somewhere.”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

She accepted his hand, less because she needed it and more because it pleased her to do so. A moments touch and appreciation of him, his presence, his company.

Gazing out over the view, she eyed it critically. Interested, curious, trying to sift apart the surface squalor from the sheer, raw experience of a life so entirely unlike her own. Even in her time on Coruscant, she had never come across anything quiet like this, and she settled it neatly away in her mind to catalogue and sort through thoroughly later.

"I am less sure," she laughed, but started the hunt for them anyway.

When they did find stairs, it became immediately apparent that they only went up a single story. Each level they had to look anew for the next passage up. Usually stairs, but one time nothing more than a ladder with a hole cut in the ceiling above. Each time made of different materials, the stairs often uneven in both height and width, cobbled together from whatever had been available. They moved slowly but inexorably up, ignore the occasional moldering pile that may, or may not, have been a sleeping sentient.

It wasn't difficult to know when they reached the area. While someone had attempted to tape it off, it was clear that a number of people had traipsed around the level. People lived here, after all. Those denizens peered out, disappearing into the shadows again as Reverance and Raj passed through.

The smell of blood and worse, no longer strictly fresh, led them the rest of the way.

"The holos didn't do it justice," she murmured.

"This is a massacre."

[member="Reverance"]