Jedi Sorcerer
Starlin stirred, then jolted awake. Pain shot up his arms, which were tied tightly behind his back. He was roped to a chair in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse.
The Force felt distant and clouded. "What the..." he blurted, trying to use it to untie himself, but failing. The cord tying him down must've had some sort of anti-Force properties, and of course his weapons and other gear had all been confiscated.
"Well, well," a female voice said from somewhere in the shadows. "You're awake. How are you feeling, Starlin Rand?"
Her intonation and the creepy way she spoke sent a shiver down Starlin's spine. "A little sore, but otherwise pretty good," he answered, keeping his tone casual. "Uh, how do you know my name? And why am I tied up?"
Footsteps echoed as the mysterious woman stepped into the light. Blonde hair, corrupted eyes, eerily beautiful features... Starlin groaned at the all-too-familiar sight of her white catsuit, the designated "uniform" of a certain Dark Side Cult with whom he had had run-ins in the past. "Oh no."
"Oh yes." She circled around him, grabbing a handful of his curly hair and yanking his head back. Her eyes were full of barely-restrained homicidal intent. "I'm shipping your ass straight to the Parliament tomorrow morning. But first, I think I'll have a little fun with you..."
"The Parliament? Who?" he asked, gritting his teeth as she continued to pull on his hair. If he could keep her talking, maybe he could stall whatever torture she had planned.
"Our new leader."
"Does that mean the last chick is dead? What was her name... the Amalgam? I didn't like her very much." With a snarl, she yanked even harder. Starlin saw stars. "Ow ow ow... You know, I always wondered why y'all dress like that. I mean, it's kind of... you know."
"Kind of what?"
"Kind of, well, cult-y." She scowled at him while he laughed. "I'm just sayin'. Would it kill you to wear something different for a change? You all dress the same, it's hard to tell you apart..."
The Force felt distant and clouded. "What the..." he blurted, trying to use it to untie himself, but failing. The cord tying him down must've had some sort of anti-Force properties, and of course his weapons and other gear had all been confiscated.
"Well, well," a female voice said from somewhere in the shadows. "You're awake. How are you feeling, Starlin Rand?"
Her intonation and the creepy way she spoke sent a shiver down Starlin's spine. "A little sore, but otherwise pretty good," he answered, keeping his tone casual. "Uh, how do you know my name? And why am I tied up?"
Footsteps echoed as the mysterious woman stepped into the light. Blonde hair, corrupted eyes, eerily beautiful features... Starlin groaned at the all-too-familiar sight of her white catsuit, the designated "uniform" of a certain Dark Side Cult with whom he had had run-ins in the past. "Oh no."
"Oh yes." She circled around him, grabbing a handful of his curly hair and yanking his head back. Her eyes were full of barely-restrained homicidal intent. "I'm shipping your ass straight to the Parliament tomorrow morning. But first, I think I'll have a little fun with you..."
"The Parliament? Who?" he asked, gritting his teeth as she continued to pull on his hair. If he could keep her talking, maybe he could stall whatever torture she had planned.
"Our new leader."
"Does that mean the last chick is dead? What was her name... the Amalgam? I didn't like her very much." With a snarl, she yanked even harder. Starlin saw stars. "Ow ow ow... You know, I always wondered why y'all dress like that. I mean, it's kind of... you know."
"Kind of what?"
"Kind of, well, cult-y." She scowled at him while he laughed. "I'm just sayin'. Would it kill you to wear something different for a change? You all dress the same, it's hard to tell you apart..."
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