These sconces burn for you.

[Pravus Zambrano]

Serenno​

​

En route to Dooku's Palace, Serenno City​

​

Large eyes, unnaturally forced into the frame of his sockets, peered upwards from the passenger seat of the topless speeder. Robes, ornate and sanctified in all their whimsical colors, fluttered in a symphonic rhythm with his long greasy black hair. With flesh the sickly color of jaundice olive, he looked down at the eldritch diary. Licking his fingers, he shook his head as he continued to turn the page.

"Ooop, turn left!" He screamed, high shrill voice carrying an eerie tone through the high winds. With a visage that could have been carved with a manic knife, jagged in all the right places, he leered up towards the driver. Eyes, blackened if not for the bilious illumination with every passing overhead lamp of fluorescent green, dripped venom and judgment. "What has gotten into you?!? Was I not loud enough for you to hear?" He leaned over, close enough to whisper into the rotting ears of his driver. "Should I ask you like this?"

"This road...we are headed towards damnation."

Frustrated, he plopped back down in his seat. Flipping the book over for his driver to see, he pointed towards the comical drawing of Serenno City. "No! See!?! We are headed towards the Borgin Castle! If I wanted to go to the Borgin Castle, I would have said 'Darron, drive me to the Borgin Castle' and you would have said something stupid like 'we are all lost.'" His voice changed to a deep melancholy tone, before resuming the pinnacle of all oration. "And then we would have gone to the Borgin Castle!" He smacked the dash of the speeder with his book. "Honestly, I have to assume you are both deaf and blind!"

"I will walk through Hell this way. Blind...and deaf."

Pravus pressed all five of his bony fingers against the wrinkles of a furrowed brow, sighing heavily. "Is this about her?" His bulbous eyes darted towards the shrunken head of the woman, dangling from a tether that was suspended from the rear view mirror.

"I wanted to save her from you." Darron admitted as such, milky white eyes looking towards traffic. He spoke and dribbled from lips that were peeling upwards, exposing missing teeth and decaying gums. Even half a nostril was gone now.

"We have gone over this." Flabbergasted, Pravus gestured towards the jostling head. "I thought you were making eyes at her! She was a gift!"

"You killed her."

"Noooo..." Pravus stopped, leaning over the passenger door as he caught the wake of wind. "Well, yes. Okay, I did. But not at first Darron, not at first!" A finger wagged at the driver, dismissively. But then...an unearthly smile crawled across his face like the slow eruption of methane from the filmy surface of a forgotten moor. "First, we enjoyed our time together." He perked up. "But then, then I killed her. And then..."

"I know. I saw everything. You force-"

"I shrunk her head." He held his two hands apart, fingers outstretched, as he slowly urged the tips together in jagged maneuver. Smiling warmly, his hand flung out towards the left. "Here, Darron! Here! Turn!"

And nothing. Except the slight smile of a ghoul as he drove. And Pravus baring his teeth, propping an elbow up on the door of the speeder. "You know it wasn't really sorcery. It was more like...cooking. I even put essential oils on her, just for you Darron. Even though...you can't really smell anything." Pravus giggled as the speeder cruised down the thoroughfare.

[member="Sam Paige"]​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLYlMq6MU2s​

 

[Sam Paige]

Sam was nervous, walking down the street of Serreno City. But, in fairness, Sam was nervous most of the time when she wasn't ensconced in an engine room, so it really wasn't anything note worthy.

Of course, she wasn't usually walking in broad day light with the intention of meeting refugees that wanted to get out of Sith space in secret.

She had finished the modifications to the freighter early. [member="Benedict Ortega"] was still wrapping up his loose ends, but he'd promised to meet her on Etti IV when he was done. They'd work, together, to get the light siders hiding here, and on other Sith held worlds, to safety. Working off of a planet right on the edge of Silver Jedi space, both had doubts that order could do what needed to be done for these people. They had their own problems breathing down their necks, and there was no possibility of aid from that quarter. But these former Dominion worlds had been a haven to those who had no particular love for the Silvers, and yet still called the light their own. Sam had grown up on stories of the Jedi from her grandmother, and those resonated with the young woman here and now. This was something she could do. This was the story she could write.

Despite the nervousness, she was excited. She knew just how serious this was, how fraught and dangerous. Gosh, Ben had gone over it enough that even if she hadn't, he would have made sure she understood. But it was still.... kind of exciting! To be here now.

Dressed in normal street clothes, she hurried down the main thoroughfare. Long red hair was tucked up beneath a cap, and she had her hands pushed deep into her pockets. She had the coordinates, where she was meeting her contacts, but she'd gotten turned around at some point. Pausing, deep blue eyes squinted at the street sign on the corner. Tipped her head back, and pushing glasses up her nose, she scratched her forehead and frowned furiously.

"Pretty sure I'm going in circles," she muttered, then let out a small yell as the wind tore the cap from her head.

Turning, she gave chase, red hair billowing out in the wind as she scrambled after the hat.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

His oblong head drifted back as his eyes were filled with vibrant greens and yellows. Serenno had a certain appeal, he had to admit. Between the circular and dome like architecture philosophies and the recent proliferation of Sith and Darkside leaning, this was as good a place as any. And besides, he had heard that the level of sophistication at Dooku's palace was enough to topple the common man. Which was good, for he was no common man. He was a Zambrano.

"Oh my God."
"What now, you dilapidated necrotic vile piece of-"
"We're gonna crash!"

Pravus looked up just in time to see a hat hit across the wind shield. It was a hat. Just a hat. He looked over as his left hand moved calmly to the steering wheel, steadying it between the constant movements of the ghoul and his feigned neurotic tendencies.

"You were about to kill us both, weren't you?"
"Justice will be served, in this life or the next." Darron turned, white eyed, as he looked the tall Zambrano in the face.
Pravus smiled and chuckled. "I doubt it."

But then something caught his eye. Something vibrant in a sea of bleh. Greens weren't important any more. Neither was the architecture. It was all red, red for days! Rose.

"My GOD!" He looked towards Darron as he jerked the wheel to the side. The speeder fishtailed as it waffled across the thoroughfare. "Did you see that Darron?! So many freckles!" He screamed as the speeder drifted in entirely the wrong orientation. The engine squealed, the ghoul prayed for the final end, and Pravus looked back in awe.

Then the speeder stopped. Because it hit a post, the sort of impact that caved the driver side door in but left Pravus unscathed. Touched by the Gods, the signs were clear! The door creaked open as he stepped out, forgetting himself, as he patted down the robes and various finery that hung from his neck or fingers. But he could only forget for so long.

Staring forward, he looked towards the woman with a mixture of awe and Darron get the kidnapping bag. But rather than jump at his first instinct, he did what made sense. He smiled and waved, muttering from the side of his lips. "Darron...get the kidnapping bag."

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

Sam went dashing across the sidewalk, focused on the hat at it went merrily somersaulting along. She almost had it, fingertips catching on the brim before the wind whipped up, catching the soft material inside and sending it airborne.

"No stop!"

But it was too late. Either the wind didn't listen, or the hat didn't, and it whisked off and into coming traffic. She barely managed to pull up to a stop in time, toes just over the edge of the curb and arms cartwheeling to keep herself from tilting headlong into the street. She watched, dark eyes behind glasses- dismay was clear on her face as it passed over the front of speeder. She followed the skirling of the hat as it fluttered-

So the sudden sound of shouting and crashing took her by surprise.

She blinked, whipping around, the hat forgotten for a moment. The speeder the hat had ghosted over had crashing into a pole, one of its occupants stumbling out and patting himself down.

Sam wasn't sure how it had happened exactly. But obviously the hat had distracted the driver enough to cause the crash-

Her hands went up to her mouth, eyes widening.

Ohmygosh-it'smyfault.

She was already hurrying in their direction when the strange looking man in robes started waving at her. Oh gods, had the accident done that? The way his eyes looked.... head injury? A concussion causing swelling? Sam had no idea how any of that worked, or if it could happen so fast. She was a mechanic, not a doctor, and all of the worst case scenarios seemed possible, nay, likely, in that moment.

It wasn't apparent until she was closer, just stepping up onto the curb in front of him, just how tall he was. Unreasonably tall. Impossibly tall. But she barely noticed, her hands fluttering at her sides in a small, anxious flap. She practically squeaked when she finally managed to get anything out at all.

"A-are you o-okay sir? I-I'm so s-sorry! Your driver, is he-"

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

Talon like fingers ringed over one another, over and over again, as she approached. He wasn't nervous, Zambrano's don't get nervous. This was just a tick!

Freckles...red hair!

Internally, he might have been losing it...

Spoiler

But externally, he was as cool as an overripe and oddly shaped cucumber. Until she got close, looking up at him. He hadn't appreciated the height difference until she was right there, staring at him and his beautiful angelic-like features. She must have been nervous as well, given how prominent his eyebrow line was or the fact that his eyes were just a tad bit too large. The better to see her with!

"Who?" He turned and looked over his shoulder, the crook in his spine apparent with the every consistent hunch. Like a hungry vulture waiting to be hand fed. "Oh, him. No no no..." He laughed and threw a sharp thumb over the shoulder. "He's just sleepy. He pushes himself so hard, that one. I'm amazed this doesn't happen more often."

This was unfortunate. Kidnap bag was entirely out of the question.

Staring down the beak of his impressively shaped nostril housing, he pressed the tips of his fingers together as they naturally orbited towards waggling. "You don't have to be sorry. It wasn't your fault at all..." He waved at her flamboyantly, managing to unstick his fingers. "I'm not too far from home, it should be fine. We can uhh..." He raised a finger to his lips, eyes taking to the skies to contemplate what normal people do in this circumstance. That same finger lifted towards the sky, indicating a thought that was not only appropriate, but also normal and totally sane."Ah yes, we will call the insurance company. Yes, that seems proper."

He heard the ghoul mumble something as he shifted before his head fell back, a deep slumber taking him like a succubus in the sultry and humid night. Pravus brought a hand to his mouth and coughed. "So...are you from around here?"

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

She watched with a certain horrified fascination as he moved and spoke.

"Um."

She was trying to remember what the warning signs of a stroke were. There was some sort of mnemonic to remember them. FAST maybe? But she couldn't figure out what the letters stood for beyond 'F' for 'Face' and it was honestly a little difficult to concentrate on it anyway.

Sam tried, just once, to peer around behind him, but the way he kept shuffling made it impossible without being down right rude, and he did say his driver was okay, so he probably was? He wouldn't say he was if he wasn't, that would be weird.

When he mentioned calling someone though, that she could do. Her hands went fumbling at her hip, the comm unit there stubbornly refusing to unclip from the belt for a moment. She was fighting with it when his next question took her by surprise.

"Um. Do I- Oh, no. I d-don't live. Here. I mean. On Serreno. I live, um, on my ship I guess?"

Her gaze went up and down while she fumbled with the comm- which unclipped at a moment she was looking up at him and realized she wasn't sure which eye was looking at her. She almost dropped it, catching it with the tips of her fingers and then losing it again.

"Here- you can c-call- I mean. Oh drat."

The comm went clattering to the ground, bouncing hard enough to make her wince. She stooped down to pick it back up.

"Um, if you are. Um. Both okay. I. N-need to get- I mean, I need to go," she mumbled, reaching for the comm.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

An angelic face of beatific splendor watched as she fidgeted around, mirroring his own exquisite movement with darting expression. And the comm device! Pravus mentally slapped his mammoth size forehead with a veiney palm, realizing that he actually had no contact information for insurance because, surprise, he had no insurance. She was fuddling about with her device, and he started to the do the same. Hands began patting down his ornate robe, pulling various items from the many pockets. A golden chain, a glass eye ball, the remains of what looked to be a rat tail that had been chewed almost entirely clean, and a particularly rigid snake shed. Then the comm went a-bouncing to the ground, red hair and freckles nervously following it.

There was only one thing left to do.

Karate chop!

Palm moved swiftly in the open air, cutting and whistling with triumphant speed, as it connected just at the base of her neck. He could feel the consciousness flee only moments following the strike and he leaned in, catching her and lifting her over his shoulder.

"DARRON!" The earsplitting tone jumped excitedly from his sharp smile as he frolicked back to the banged up speeder. "Darron!" He screamed again as he kicked the passenger door awkwardly, caught on the length of volume of his gypsy clothing. "Wake up! You aren't even alive. I KNOW YOU CAN'T SLEEP!"

"I can't sleep..." He lifted his head, wiping away dribble on his bare and bruised arm. "But I can dream..."

"Of what?!? What could you possible dream of?" Pravus stated, confused, as he throw the ragdoll body of the red head into the back seat. Looking over towards the back, his fingers wrapped around the metal frame of the speeder as he peered over at the woman. Darron looked back as well, surprise painting a face that could use a good deal more paint...and skin. "She landed funny."

"She did!" Pravus cackled as he cracked open the passenger door and sat in. "To the castle, Darron!"

"To Borgins Castle..."

The streets grew quiet, eerie glow overtaking the world as shadows enveloped lights and even the stars. A silhouette descended down Pravus' face as he turned towards the ghoul, like the final curtains of a comedy tour that was coming to an abrupt end. Tenebrous expression was suddenly hazed by the corporeal tones of visual malice. Frustration and irritation overtaking excitement for the night to come, the Ghoul shrunk back against the door in fear.

"To Dookus Castle...?"

Pravus' head turned like a rusted lighthouse beam, stopping to focus on the thoroughfare ahead. "Take a left here, Darron." He stated calmly. "Don't miss it this time." The half of his face that was visible revealed a growing smile, cheshire and full of intent. "You wouldn't want to miss this turn."

The speeder powered on and reversed away from the pole. And then, with the thrusters powered on, it took that left turn like a champ.

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

She had an inkling of something. Just a hint and she started to look up-

Stars. Fading to black.

Consciousness came on slowly, like a migraine.

​Wait, no, that was actually a headache.

She was lying on something soft, the rumbling of a speeder engine familiar in her ears. On her side, she was snugged up against the backrest. She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly into the growing dusk and trying to shake the cobwebs from her head. Her arms and legs felt heavy, leaden, and at first she assumed it from whatever had caused her to pass out.....

Why couldn't she move her legs?

A muffled sound, something between a yelp and a meep came out from behind the gag. She started to struggle, but the bounds at her wrists and ankles were tight. She froze at movement in the front seat, eyes wide behind glasses.

Oh gods he was smiling at her.

She shrank back against the seat, shaking her head, but at what she wasn't entirely sure. Red curls fell into her face and she couldn't push them out of the way. This wasn't happening. This was some enormous mistake, some misunderstanding. Please, please, this had to be a misunderstanding.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

Teeth showed behind parted lips, like well maintained tombstones in a military graveyard. Grey and shining, ever apparent, he looked over the head rest at her. Engine still rumbling, wind sending his slicked black hair across his face, his smile might have been the only apparent thing in all the dusk and twilight.

"There is a seat belt law in Serenno City..."
"Like you would know that!"
"I just saw a sign for it."
"Oh."

He turned around and plopped into his seat, pulling the strap across his broad chest that was breathing far too fast for such a lovely night.

"She looks just like her, doesn't she?" The large Zambrano turned to look at the decrepit and hideous driver. A face that only a mother or slightly deranged sorcerer could love. Silence jumped out from the ghouls lips, amidst heavy breath and glassy gaze.

"You know who!" Pravus nearly yelped, not fully understanding what a cold shoulder was. The ghoul simply continued his chauffeur-like responsibilities , not providing a retort.

"Fine. Head straight. Should be just a few more blocks." He crossed his arms, all up in a tizzy.

Looking over his shoulder, he was reminded of her and couldn't help but smile once more. Lifting a hand to claw the oily hair from his face, he wanted nothing more than to reassure her. "Don't worry, Rose. We're almost there. I'm sure you'll love it!" Reaching over, he stretched with a gasp, as he tried to tuck the fiery curls behind her ear. "There there, all better now."

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

Not that Sam envied this Rose for an instant. But it meant a thrill of hope because she was Sam! Not Rose! It meant that yes, this was all a misunderstanding!

She tried to speak around the gag, but it came out as nothing more than so much gibberish.

I'm not Rose! My name is Sam!

"Om-od-oth! Ay-aim-ith-am!"

​​Flinching back from his hand, she didn't have anywhere to go. She closed her eyes tight, feeling him tuck the hair back behind her ear. A small whimper sounded deep in her throat.

Even knowing, knowing that she wasn't who he thought she was, she couldn't pretend that the fear heavy in her chest wasn't real. Even knowing this was a mistake, there was a sunk feeling in her core when she looked up at him- because that wasn't a logical, reasonable person gazing with such intent back down at her when she opened her eyes again.

Head straight. Should be just a few more blocks.

They'd turned off of the main thoroughfare, the sound of other vehicles fading from her ears with a growing sense of panic. Alternating shadows fell across her face, flashing dark and light, long avenue of neatly planted trees flanking them. From her vantage point, she was the last to see their destination. It's shadow, cast long and low by the setting sun, fell across her before she actually laid wide eyes on it.

She struggled to sit up, almost managing it before the speeder came to an abrupt stop and losing her all progress. She squeezed her eyes shut again, praying that this was almost over. All she had to do was explain that she wasn't this Rose.

That was all she had to do.

All she had to do.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

"Did you hear that, Darron?" Pravus looked towards his necrotic man slave. "She whimpered!" The tall sorcerer smiled, clapping his hands together, as he turned back to forward facing. Stretching outward, he watched with massive oblong eyes as they left the city and entered an esteemed estate. The Dooku castle, named after some figure in the distant past who didn't matter. But what did matter was style and decor. And based on just the brief and distant view, Pravus was already pleased. Gun metals, gothic blacks, elliptical and abstract shapes, and ghastly shades of green. "Oooh, this looks lovely. Doesn't it, Rose?"

He looked over his shoulder, looking for her to agree. He was being so nice to her after all, it would be a shame if her presence suddenly lost the pleasing tones. But she was gagged and bound, pleasing enough for the time being. They'd have time to talk soon enough, he was sure of it. All the time in the world.

"Park over there, Darron."
"Where?"
"There Darron, there!" He pointed towards a clearly labeled parking spots. But the abrupt stop came not with a solid parking maneuver. It came with them running into a tree, denting the hood.

Pravus caught himself, eldritch book held against the dash. He didn't even have time to criticize the ghoul beneath clenched teeth.

"I...I think I'm really blind."
"What, nonsense! You just need some help." Pravus reeled back and smacked Darron hard across the back. A wet plop sound was heard through the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind.
"Better?"
"I...don't think...no. No." He looked towards Pravus, sockets empty, as he held his two eye balls in open palms. Pravus grimaced as he clicked open the passenger door and stepped out.

"Gross. Put those back in before someone sees you like that." He didn't watch long enough to see if he listened. Shuffling around the speeder, the Zambrano knelt over the driver side rear and lifted Sam up over his shoulder. The relative ease of which was really not surprising, given his size and superior genetic lineage. "Come now, Rose. Lets take a look around."

Stepping up the duracrete stairs, Pravus yelled over his shoulder. "Get my bags when you done messing around! But leave the kidnapping bag, I don't need that one anymore!" He paused and thought for a moment. "Scratch that, Darron. Bring the kidnapping bag...just in case." Stepping up another step, he smiled and looked towards Sam from the corner of his eye. "You never know. Best to be prepared."

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

When he looked back at her for confirmation, she just nodded, eyes still too wide by half, not knowing what else to do. Deep seated nature, to never be rude, never say something that might upset someone dovetailed perfectly into the desire to not piss off the man who had her tied up in the back of his speeder.

All things considered, she was holding it together pretty well.

Until the scene between him and his driver unfolded. For a moment, she couldn't breath, couldn't think. It clashed at right angles with every experience she'd ever had. Unreal, like something out of a holo-horror, rather than happening right in front of her. For a moment, her vision actually tunneled, pushing her back from the view of milky eyes in rotting palm. She closed her eyes again, as tight as she could, breathing in deep, shaky inhalations that never truly seemed to fill her lungs.

Who were these people? What were they?

Come on Sam, of all the things your sisters accused you of, stupid was never one of them.

She'd come to Serenno to save people from the Sith. To smuggle them out from beneath their noses. It had seemed like some grand adventure. The stuff her gram's stories were made of. There would be near escapes, daring chases-

Not this.

She flinched, squeaking behind the gag when hands fell on her. She opened her eyes, half expecting Darron.

There was something deeply wrong with the situation that the bulbous, hawk face of the other was even a small relief.

A small oomph escaped as he settled her on his shoulder. Bound hands curled up to her chest, and she looked over her shoulder up at the castle as they mounted the stairs- she couldn't help it. It was better than looking behind them at Darron-

His words impacted then, and she inhaled sharply- already impossibly wide eyes grew wider as she met his.

Someone who had something called a kidnapping bag...... was not going to care that her name wasn't Rose.

Here she offered a struggle. Whipping her head around, she tried to shift her entire body, knees pushing against him, hard, not caring if he dropped her on the stairs. But they were running out of free air as the castle loomed.

She never should have come alone.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

He nearly tripped as she struggled against him, whipping around like a fresh caught fish. Smacking knees and hands against an unexpectedly rigid and firm body, he growled as he stepped down the previous stair and nearly dropped her. Catching her by one hand, fingers gripping the binding between her hands, he lifted her high up so that he might look her in the eyes. He wasn't a fighter but he was a Zambrano and strength coursed through them, like the gold of divinity. "Wiggling little wiggle worm, do you know what worms are good for?" He brought her close, putting as much effort into holding her weight as he would a burning lantern. Fire and freckles, chambered and harnessed for his desire.

"Nothing." He lowered her so that her feet might touch the steps. "Just ask Darron. His head is filled with them."

Stepping past her, grip like iron around the slack of her binding, he lumbered up the stairs and dragged her behind him. As if on cue, the door of the speeder shut and the ghoul tripped coming up the first set of steps. Dropping bags and goods all over, Pravus ignored the sound as he stepped up the last obstacle and approached the large doors. Eyes looked up towards the alien structure, gold embroidery against what appeared to be glass. His free hand moved towards the material, tracing across the etchings of matte and gloss.

Reaching to his left, he pressed a button and a lock system opened. Pressing his finger in, he pulled a spike from the wall, turned it, and pushed it back in. With a groan from the building, the doors shuttered and slid open. Sconces along the perimeter lit with gas burning green fires, blazing yet failing to scorch the walls they were mounted against. He peeked his head in, shifty and looking about as if a child investigating an abandoned shack on the edge of town.

"Don't worry, Rose. I wont let anything happen to you." Pravus yanked hard on the slack of her bindings as he entered the building to the sound of a zombie struggling to find spilled bags and baubles. Inside, the building was cavernous and coming to life with automated lights. Before them, a large set of dual spiral staircases, crafted of veined marble. A corridor sat to the left and to the right, an entrance to another room rested beneath the stairs. And he presumed there was another set of stairs towards the back of this foyer, leading to what he hoped was a dungeon or prison. If this Dooku was worth anything, he would have planned ahead for the Zambrano arrival. He pulled Sam over to him as he hunched over, whispering. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

Falling would have been one thing. It was, after all, what she was aiming for. If she could get to the ground she could try to run. It wasn't a logical thought, it was the part of her brain that fought against the feeling of a cornered animal. She didn't think beyond down-

There it was, that surge of hope as gravity took over- she tried to twist in the air, to keep from landing on her face against the stone stairs-

And screamed when he caught her (or would have, if the gag hadn't muffled most of it). Heart hammered in her chest as he effortlessly hoisted her up. Arms stretched above her head, she found herself face to face with him, dangling in the air a foot above the ground. As he brought her close, with no more effort than she might use to inspect a tool, closed her eyes tight, breath hitching in a sob that never made it past the gag. His strength terrified her, but even more so his words, the expression on his face.

The way he looked at her, with a sense of possession.

His threat was very, very clear.

Her feet touched the ground, almost gently, but the way he pulled her behind him cut that like a knife. It was walk, follow behind him, or be dragged.

She stumbled, once, catching herself just before the decision was made for her. Sam followed, trying to keep her breathing under any semblance of control, eyes casting around for something- someone (though who would be here that wouldn't be just what these two were?)- anything she could use.

Think Sam think.

She watched, gripping her hands together to keep them from shaking. Watching him, the mechanism, the lock.

You'll need to know that. Don't forget it.

She stumbled when he suddenly yanked her again behind him, the upward pressure of his hands on the binding the only thing keeping her from knees bruising against the floor. Following, because walking was better than being dragged. Because with everything, the thought of making this man actually angry was terrifying. Blue eyes cast everywhere, seeing things very differently than he did. Eerie, shadowed, menacing, long shadows of sconces and him.

When he called her Rose again, she almost started to cry. She wasn't Rose! With a sharp tug, she stumbled into his shadow. Turning her face down, taking a moment of refuge in curtain of hair and swallowing hard to keep from sobbing, she nodded again.

My name is Sam, she said to herself. My name is Sam.

But she nodded, when he called her Rose. Because it was the safest thing to do for now.

My name is Sam.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

"You're very soft spoken. I appreciate that about you." He said with an almost warm smile as he yanked on her chain, ever casually reminding her of where she stood in this place. At the end of his grip. Under his control and his protection, so long as the world didn't turn over. So long as he wasn't led down the same road that conjured Darron into existence. Curiosity and boredom, affliction of concern for time being wasted. But not with her, never with her! She was the love of his life and had been for years on end. It had felt like an eternity since he saw the flash of her hair, blowing in the winds of Serenno City. And that was only moments ago!

Giddy by the interaction, he walked into the first hallway beneath the right set of stairs. Past the main threshold, a door remained vigilant and prevented entrance. Until he entered the very same code as he did to get into the building. As the metal door swished open, painted brown to resemble lacquered wood, they entered the brilliant white of a sterile kitchen. Long lights across the ceiling vibrated to life by motion sensing, illuminating a wide area between counter tops, separated only by the granite topping of a single island. Despite the fact that this place was abandoned, it appeared that the droids and defenses had been programmed to maintain not only the rations, but the cleanliness. Which was preferable as he couldn't stand the thought of someone else's filth.

Running a long fing across the island, he smiled as he found not a trace of dust.

Guffawed by the spectacle, he approached the a datapad on the wall of the kitchen. Pressing a few buttons, it lit blue with acceptance of input. Across the top, it read [SECURITY]. At the request of the datapad, he pressed his full hand across the interface, allowing the input of his print. And he leaned forward in turn, scanning over the biometrics of his left eye. Following that, the screen flashed red before a loud noise echoed through the facility as metal shutters descended over all the access points. Pravus looked up, mildly shocked, as he giggled. "My God, did you hear that?" He looked behind him to Sam. "Looks like we are stuck in here together...Oh..." He let out a breath as his free index pressed against his lips, searching the floor beneath Sam. "I hope Darron made it in. I don't hear any complaining but I can't be sure. Ah!"

He tilted his head as his eyes narrowed into slivers of sickness, inspecting the woman. "Are you hungry? I'm going to remove your gag so you can tell me what you want...But!" He lifted his finger, thoughtfully. "If you scream, we're going to have to pursue more permanent solutions..." Index and finger pressed together, separated, and pressed together again. Repeatedly, like a pair of scissors. "You understand?" He nodded his head for her as he smiled, using one of his scissor fingers to draw the gag down from her lips.

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

If she'd had either an ounce less of good sense or an ounce more of anger and outrage, she would have given him a look at that. The fact that she was usually soft spoken notwithstanding, he'd gagged her. Instead she just closed her eyes tightly for a moment again, the tug of his hand on the chain sending a chill into the pit of her stomach.

She followed like a kite on a string, pulled and tugged by a deranged child at play. What happened when the wind grew too strong, or the fabric caught on a branch? She didn't want to think about it.

Just as before, she watched. Eyes casting about, she memorized the code he entered-

Not that it would matter a moment later. Watching the system scan first his hand, then eye in that too bright kitchen, her heart sank. She cringed when the sound of metal crashing filled the air with a certain finality that sank into the base of her spine.

Looks like we are stuck in here together...

No no no....

Then again, flash of hope, because if she could just explain maybe still, there was that sliver. False, bright- brilliant even as it hung over her- There was too much white to her eyes as she nodded, blue gaze flicking from his face to his fingers before realizing just what he meant. She bit down on her tongue as he pulled down the gag, keeping a whimper at bay. But the shaking from her hands had slowly spread through the rest of her, tremor sneaking from joint to joint. She didn't make a sound as he pulled it down to hang around her neck, but it cost her in a trembling that moved through her entire body.

"P-please," she finally pleaded, her voice tiny. "Please, this is a mistake. I'm not who you think I am, my name isn't Rose, my name is Sam. Please, just let me go, I swear I won't tell anyone what happened, just, please. Let me go."

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

The words escaped her lips but it was wasted breath. Luckily for her, it wasn't something that could spur his anger. This wasn't the first time someone hadn't accepted their given name by his prestige. He just hoped, for her sake, that it went smoother than the jagged riffles of his past. No need for harm, no need for the bitter end to this two week honeymoon.

Lifting his hand to her mouth, he pressed a finger against her lips to shush her. "You don't need to shake." He nodded, smile apparent through the length of his very lengthy face. "Our meeting has me excited as well." Her voice was so small, wavering throughout a tremble, as he assessed her for the first dialogue they had had since years ago. Since she lost that hat and brought fortune to her door. Dressed in finery and gypsy clothing. This was the luckiest she would ever be, she was better off not cursing her future with misspoken words or failed attempts at rebellion.

"This isn't a mistake. And you're not Sam..." He shook his head. "Not anymore. Now you are my beautiful and loved Rose. Petals of fire, pistils of blue." He lifted his hands, removing the grip from the binding as he held her by the narrow span of her shoulders. His strength was ever apparent, present throughout every interaction. "One day, you can profess your love from whatever rooftop you desire. Just..." He looked down at her hands. "Don't run. If you run, then I have to chase you. And that won't please me...I trust that you'll make the right decision."

He took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. "Now, my love. Would you like a sandwich? I can whip up something real quick or perhaps you want something a bit more filling? A full entree, perhaps?"

Just then, he heard the sound of scraping and moaning. Then a buzzard chimed through the kitchen. Pressing his fingers against his forehead, he clicked on the datapad and put on his polite voice. "You didn't make it before the shutters, did you?"

::...No.::

"Just break in."

::...I can't. These defenses are...::

"You are a zombie! If you had a strength, breaking into a house would be it! Figure it out!"

He released the button as he rolled his bulbous eyes, looking towards Sam. "Sandwich?"

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

He was entirely insane.

She might have stopped breathing. No, she was certain that she had. What she was less certain of was if her heart had actually ceased to beat while he spoke. Blue eyes cast, slowly at first, back and forth between his, then more frantic before devolving into a physical shake from side to side of her head.

My name is Sam, she intoned mentally.

This wasn't a matter of a mistaken identity. There wasn't a different Rose that simply looked like her. Whatever Rose meant to him, he had decided it meant her. She didn't know why. Didn't want to know why.

She realized just how important that intonation might be. Because the zealot's smile on his face, expression sublime in itself but terrifying when shone outward spoke volumes. It wasn't a language she knew, not one she could navigate with familiarity. She didn't understand in any depth or grasp. But there was no mistaking that her safety hinged on only one thing.

That he had decided she was Rose.

My name is Sam.

She thought of Tegan, what she would do here. But she wasn't Tegan. She wasn't strong and tough. She didn't know how to fight- how to head butt someone hard enough to shatter their nose for being too friendly. She thought about Ben. His quiet admission that he was only good at fighting. At killing. And just how much more it was to have the skills she had.

But they didn't help her here. Here, now, she would have done anything to have what they had. What good did knowing the difference between the primary bumper panel and the secondary manifold matter here? She could take apart a droid and put it back together in her sleep.

With someone who could lift her over his head like a child drawing a frog up out of a pond to study it, none of that mattered.

It took all of her self control to not start crying. It meant she had none to spare for getting the tremors under control, and certainly no admonishments of his were going to calm that. Instead she shook her head again. And because she didn't know what else to say, managed to stammer out.

"I'm n-not hungry, th-thank you."

Growing up, politeness had been a shield against the torment of bored older sisters. She just hoped it would work just as well here.

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

"Not hungry?" He shook his head. "Hmm, I was really looking forward to making you something." The tall figure of sallow tones was quickly awash with melancholy, the upbeat and positive attitude draining from his face. "Is it because we don't have what you want? Because I can make a run to the store! It's not a problem!" His tone turned from a low earthly resonance to something of an angelic crescendo, raising and stretching to the very heavens above. But he caught himself. He needed to be better, better for her! That was the promise he made that night, finding her walking down the street. It wasn't stalking, it was love at first sight! Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the choppers block and withdrew the chefs knife.

"You are just being polite. That's one of the thing's I've always loved about you." He moved towards the cooler, opening up one of the doors after a hard tug. "Lets see lets see. Oh, here we are." He pulled out a hunk of meat the size of a head or maybe a shoulder. It was quite difficult to tell the origin of the meat but it looked good enough to eat. Pulling out a chopping board, he set it down and withdrew bread from the loaf shelf. "I make a very good sandwich. Everyone says so. Though..." He lifted the knife, blade pointing towards the sky. "They were always crying when they said that. The pure emulation of joy on their faces..." He had to stop, wiping something from his eye. "It was so beautiful."

Chop!

The knife hit the board, cutting through the meat like a knife through meat. Wielded by godly strength, precision that showed persistent practice. The meat slice rolled away from the husk, falling out in a thin layer. He did it again. And Again. And again. "There, that should be enough."

A stumble was heard in the foyer as the sound of bags hit the stone. A ghoul of nightmarish proportions hand-walked himself in, feeling the walls and seeing with eyeless sockets. "I...I found a way in."
"Darron...no one cares!" Pravus was layering the meat over the bread now, though he had found no condiments.
"It was a difficult task but..."
"Darron, what did I say!? You're being rude now. Show Rose some respect, she's earned it after all these years!" He moved on to cutting the sandwich diagonally, putting it onto a ceramic plate with meticulous effort. Somewhere between here and there, he found lettuce that was only slightly wilted.

Pravus turned towards the zombie, showering him with distant disregard that waffled between irritation and curiosity, though strong in the former and meager in the latter. "Did you come in from downstairs?"
"Yes."
"Anything interesting?" Large eyes were suddenly complimented by lofted brows.
"An interrogation room, though..."
"Ooooooh, Darron! That sounds lovely. Take my things downstairs please, we will join you soon!"

Darron let out a sigh as he turned, feeling his way back out of the kitchen. Pravus redirected his attention to the small woman, offering the plate with a warm smile. "You really should keep up your strength, Rose." That warm smile shifted, taking on an almost imperceptible hint of joyful malevolence. "You are going to need it." He was thinking only of what was best for her.

[member="Sam Paige"]​

 

[Sam Paige]

The way his emotions played in sweeping arias and then down into hollow dirge- all played in a minor key no matter the register- might have been fascinating in a holodrama character. But here in front of her, with the gag still light against the base of her throat and bindings on her hands, it was not merely disturbing-

It was dangerous.

Polite, agreeable. Those things had always kept her safe. Almost always. But one time was an outlier. Her mind raced, heart loud enough in her ears that she thought she might pass out if she couldn't get it under control. She closed her mouth tight, eyes too wide when he withdrew the carving knife. She took a step back, fortunately missed in his manic desire to....

To what?

To please her?

The passage back and forth from casual threat to that was enough to leave her nauseous.

She closed her eyes when he took the knife to the meat. But she couldn't block out the sound of it slicing, heavy and final with each stroke.

The arrival of Darron didn't help matters.

It was her first good view of him. And she wished immediately to unsee all of it. She swallowed an uprising of bile, the sour sting bringing tears to her eyes as her chest shuddered once. She closed her eyes when he called her Rose again. Too many things. Too much. All these years? Her head swam, and she could feel the room tilt around her. This wasn't real.

My name is Sam.

She opened her eyes to him in front of her again, offering the plate with the sandwich, so carefully arranged. But the words sunk in and she found her mouth was as dry as a desert. She tried to swallow, a knot in her throat.

Keep him happy if you can. Buy time. You'll think of something. Remember where the knife block is.

She reached out with shaking hands- needing to reach with both, the bindings allowing not nearly enough slack for anything else- She focused on the sandwich. On bringing it to her mouth and taking bite. On chewing without moisture in her mouth while her stomach revolted from fear and worse- like ham, but gamier, she had no idea what it was- she swallowed that one bite, offering him a closed mouth smile that took far more effort than she thought, for a moment, she had in her.

Swallowing, it felt like a ball of sticky sandpaper.

His face, expectant.

"I-it's very g-good," she barely managed to get out. "P-perfect. I could-couldn't eat another b-bite. Th-thank you."

[member="Pravus Zambrano"]