Things You See in the Graveyard

[Scherezade deWinter]

Madalena closed her eyes and let the cool breeze of Maramere caress her face. It was such a stark change compared to Geonosis, where she'd been spending most of her time since joining the Knights Obsidian. She knew this planet almost intimately by now; her first time there had been with the CIS. She'd held no official position but had jumped into an assignment, contaminating the enemy's drinking water with powerful laxatives. She'd been sent back to the planet a month later to deal with a spike group of pirates that were giving the Confederacy a headache. But now, months later, she was sent here again, not as a simple test to see what the wild card of the CIS could perform, but because there was something important happening, and the KO had deemed her good to deal with it. Not just a cheap meat shield, but someone who could actually get something done.

She had not kept many of her secrets from the KO. She had told Cardinal of some of her gifts, among which were her ability to "smell" blood through the Force. When the mission came up, she'd jumped on it almost immediately. Some spooky mysterious creature who was probably using either Sith or Blood magic to do horrible things. Bodies were showing up, mutilated.

The Sithling found it hilarious that the Confederacy preferred this person dead rather than alive, considering the crazy amount of Darksiders in its ranks. To end these... Whatever they were, instead of learn from them. But... No one said she couldn't do any of that before she stabbed whoever was responsible.

With a grin, Madalena mounted her speeder bike and sped towards her first destination; the local graveyard.


[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

Outer Rim Territories​

Maramere - Unknown Graveyard​

Unspecified Time​

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

​

​

Maramere could rightly be called a resort world. It was luxurious in nearly every feature that it openly presented to the eye of the fortunate beholder. The shining oceans that characterized the bright azure planet were breathtaking to see in person. Those imposing and sloping mountain ranges were equally precious as they were viewed by his gaze, crags of grey rock and a symbol of the less savory features of the planet.

[SIZE=9pt]Yet, there he stood, in the cool shadow od one of the larger graves. There, in the midst of the unconventional beauty of the bleak graveyard. It was such a quiet place, quite serene and tranquil as there was no one to bother him. At least, not one of the physical realm in which he resided. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Perhaps, on a metaphysical level if he reached out far enough with the Force. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]But, the pale male had no intention of using the Force on purpose during this trip. He was here to get away from the bustle of his normal “routine” of missions and outings and meetings. So, with no particular goal or task in mind, he closed his eyes and leaned back onto the stone behind him. His head unsupported, he drew [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Amnesia[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt], his vibrosword, and drug her along the edge of the cornerstone. Ears tuning in to the clashing note that he drew from his instrument of choice, playing its part in the Knight’s twisted symphony. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Yep, this was absolutely [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]lovely[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] to him. With hope, he’d remain undisturbed. Ragnos help whoever decided to interrupt his personal time.[/SIZE]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The meeting with the graveyard's caretaker had lasted less than she would have liked. The man barely had any information to give her, and it seemed as though he was confusing her for a detective. No, Madalena was not here to investigate it in that way. Clues that might tell an actual detective what and how happened were not part of her skill kit. She wanted to see what was done to the bodies, and for that she needed to actually see them. Preferably before their blood dried out.

Instead she found herself being walked around the graveyard, receiving a full lecture about the various graves. They passed by a pale man (@Kyrinov) along the way and Madalena gave him an apologetic smile as the caretaker simply ignored his presence.

She managed to make it through a dozen graves and speeches before she finally rolled her eyes and gave up on the man giving her anything useful.

The Force rose around her as she gathered it, swirling around the man's head.

"Where. Are. The bodies." she asked, her voice giving away just how irritated she was.

"The morgue," came a robotic answer.

"Where. Is. The bloody. Morgue." she asked what she hoped was the last question.

"At the hospital, five miles north of here."

Well then. That had been a complete waste of time.

Madalena released the man from her hold and sighed. Five miles took more than a minute to pass, and working in the amount of time it took to get to the planet, and then to the graveyard... What a complete and utter waste of time.

 

[Kyrinov]

While he was busy doing nothing in particular, a woman walked by. She was tall for a Human, if that's what she indeed was. Her skin was fair in complexion, pale and darker than his own pigmentation. It was smooth and unblemished from what he could tell. The girl's hair was brown in color and it was long, framing her delicately strong face perfectly. But, the feature that Kyrinov noticed first about her were those vibrant emerald moonstones of hers. They drew him in and he found himself staring and getting out in their forest depths.

In truth, the eyes of a being were the first thing he noticed about anyone he met. They would tell him far more than that being ever would admit aloud. They spoke in a silent and screaming matter. Those orbs could express love, hate, or calm. Resentment. Anger. Sorrow. Glee. All manner of feelings and emotions could be seen with so much as a glance, unrestrained and raw. Hers spoke of determination, of purpose.

It was not long before he knew of that purpose. Sure, it took some ease-dropping on his part. But, that never hurt anyone much. Amnesia halted in her melodic playing and came to his grasp in a reversed grip, the blade stretching towards the crystal clear sky.

After a brief "discussion", if it could be called that, with the caretaker of the graveyard, she turned heel and began walking the five miles he'd mentioned. Apparently she was looking for some bodies. She needed them for something, what that was exactly he couldn't wait to find out.

The Knight's sword found her sheath and he stepped silently several feet behind her, not bothering to conceal that he was walking in the exact direction that she was. He wove in and out of the dense throngs of passing tourists, eager to see all the marvelous planet had to offer to them and make the most of its many riches. Boots struck pavement for one mile, two, and then finally five. He paused and stood almost expectantly, watching her next movement.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Madalena was walking. And cursing. There was a lot of cursing underneath her breath, a vocabulary that could've put a sailor to shame and make him blush. Five krakking miles. The caretaker had known of her mission, had known of its importance, had known she needed the bodies as warm as possible. His inefficiency was mind numbing. She was going to file a complaint against him later, get him fired. That graveyard needed people to run it who were not completely impotent.

Her cursing was probably why it took her longer than it was supposed to before she realized she was being followed. Not with her eyes, no. Her senses had picked it up during the first mile, and then she continued to monitor the presence through the Force, realizing it kept following her. Had she "tasted" the person at the graveyard, she would have known it was him, but she did not.

Still, Madalena resolved to keep going. Every fiber of her muscles ached for a fight, and if whoever was following her was stupid enough to give it to her, she'd beat them senseless. Her time with the Knights was surprisingly and disappointingly lacking in the violence she sought.

The corners of her lips curled into a smile as she approached the hospital.

With ease, Madalena cloaked her presence in the Force, using a few people as she twisted and turned, vanishing out of sight and into a nearby alley, emerald green eyes peering from the relative darkness, waiting for the owner of the presence that was following her to show themselves.


[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

He knew that she knew that he was following her.

After all, he put in no effort in attempting to hide his intentions or even mask his presence within the Force as they walked along. The man was an open book for any nearby or passing Force Sensitive to read at their leisure, if they so desired. Except, no one did. None except for the brunette that he'd followed from the graveyard.

The one he was tailing to the morgue.

He allowed her to probe and search him to her heart's content on their unofficially "shared" walk out on the town. She seemed t continually poke and prod and look about for any and everything that could be read through a being's Force signature. What she'd fine, he couldn't say.

Meanwhile, the unseen and unspoken tension between the two moving figures grew in size as they perused. It ebbed and intensified with each passing step, each strike on a shoe on the concrete below. Amassing power for that precious split moment that it could be unleashed upon the unfortunate few. Straining against its confinement until she disappeared from his sight, into an alleyway by a hospital. It threatened to explode the second her rounded the corner.

And it did exactly that, all of the pent up energy and suspicion burst. Spewed out of the very core of their beings.

Their eyes locked on each other and a small, uncharacteristic smile disrupted his facial features and forced into onto his pink lips.

"Hello, darling."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She knew that he knew that she knew that he was following her.

There was no other option, when the person flourished their presence like some sort of a Force-Peacock like that. She didn't know that it was a 'him' though, not yet.

As soon as she had spun into that alley, she regretted one thing; that she had not cast a mist spell, covering her from sight entirely. It was a small spell, but a very powerful one that she had used on such occasions before, but the thought of using it now had not even crossed her mind for the briefest of moments. A mistake.

Still, she waited.

And there he was!

Madalena had her usual arsenal of weapons about her body; ten Czerka knives and two lightsabers, though her armor and her glitter bullets were not with her just then. Still, she had survived worse than Force-stalkers wearing less than this. She would not die this day. Maybe get injured though. That was always a possibility.

He smiled. He called her darling.

Emerald green eyes squinted as ten knives flew from beneath her clothes and spread behind and around her like a fan of sharp and pointy fangs.

A small lick of the Force was sent forth - no, definitely not a human, though her eyes were more than enough to gather that. But she did not recognize the stamp of what species this person belonged to.

"You've been stalking me these past five miles," she said, her voice low, the predator inside her lacing every word with the danger of who and what she was, "give me a reason not to skin you and use your hair as a wig."


[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

He leaned his shoulder against the brick wall of the building to his left. His right hand and arm lax at his side, when as she silently displayed her literal weapons with her daggered words.

She was cautious.

Weary.

Ferocious.

Strong-willed. Steadfast. Steely.

Synonyms.

"I'm curious. Perhaps I even want to help you", his grin widened, stretching from ear to ear. "Also, my hair is quite dirty and unkempt right now, believe it or not, it is difficult to comb through. It wouldn't do very well as a wig unfortunately and my skin is a bit on a light side of the spectrum for you, love." Again, she reached out to get a feel for him. He wondered exactly what it was that she was looking for in him, perhaps he in some way reminded her of herself. That could be a possible explanation, but so could another million myriad opportunities.

"Now, the question becomes, will you accept my help, Miss....?", his voice trailed off, awaiting for her to fill in the blank by being so kind as to provide his desolate ears with her undoubtedly glorious name.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Help her?! Emerald green eyes squinted as their glow intensified. “People who want to help rarely start out by stalking,” she said to the stranger, her knives ever ready to rush forward and turn him into a blood fountain. The pale dude was enough of a shmuck to be entirely cocky about the situation too. For a lingering moment, she wondered whether she should turn him into a blood fountain after all, just to make a point.

“What do you even know about what’s going on?” she demanded, her body language not relaxing for an inch. He also wanted her name. Names had power, Madalena knew. It would be easy enough to track her down if he had it, when she least suspected it. “And what’s your name?” she wanted to know first. If he lied, she would know though the Force.


[member="Kyrinov"]

 

[Kyrinov]

So much for pleasantries, he supposed. Perhaps it was best just to play along for now, give her the answers she inquired about, to an extent, and carry on with this "conversation". "Well, Miss, it isn't exactly in my best interest to walk up to you and ask about bodies, now, is it? Quite the odd start to a conversation, wouldn't you say?"

Then, there became the matter of his name. His own individual staple on the Galaxy. Hers as well, if she would give her name to him.

"Ah, where are my manners? Kyrinov. My name is Kyrinov."

His head cocked to the side, a hand brushing against the leather hilt of Amnesia. He had no intention of using it or even drawing the sword. It was just a show he put on for her. She was already on edge, no reason he couldn't stroke the flames a little here and there.

"Now that you know my name, will you allow me to know yours, Miss?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"I can think of at least five ways to start a conversation that are was worse," came the quick reply from the usually bubbly Sithling. It was a semi lie. She could think of many more ways than that, and at least half of them had actually happened over the past week. Sometimes, Madsy felt like a magnet for bad conversation starters. She was fine with it though, as it usually meant that she'd have another hilarious story to tell her friends later on.

He gave his name. Kyrinov. Madalena squinted, trying to grab a sound off the name, if she could attach it to any planet or culture that she perhaps might have known of, but she only drew blanks. Well then. A name was a name, and since she had his, it was only fair he would have hers in return. "Madalena," she said, calling her knives back to her.

"You've yet to see how quickly I can pull my knives out," she said with a delicious grin as she eyed the pale guy, "so now… Let's go back a bit. You said you had some assistance to offer regarding the bodies. What exactly does that assistance include?"


[member="Kyrinov"]