Private Carnival of Oddies & Elves

[Fiore]

//: Amelia von Sorenn //:

The carnivals market bustled with chatter, with people bargaining and browsing the wares of the merchants. A few off-world stands were set up, which drew curious eyes. Several dark silk curtains hung in front of the small tent, and an interesting individual in a top hat waved people through. "Curiosities await the traveler," he spoke as he waved a few individuals in. On the outside of the stand were posts highlighting different items the owner was trying to sell.

While the market had legal items to sell, this man knew he had a few items the Alliance would frown upon. Lucky for him, they resided just at the border of the Sith Empire and the Alliance conflict. If one disagreed with his sales, he could run and hide in the other. He cared not for either side but only for those with the most credit to spend. More customers came and went, and a few asked about the hidden gem in the back. Each time the topic was brought up, there was a gleam of excitement in his eye.

In the back of the small stall wagon, a carbonite slab rested, hanging almost by sheer will of the Force. When drawing closer, the face of a young Eldorai woman slept peacefully. It was an odd state to find a carbonite prisoner because, in most cases, the jailer captured the pure agony of their victim. Whoever placed the girl peacefully with her arms and saber hilts crossing her chest did so with care. Many walked by, gawking at the woman encased in the material; the display was done up almost like a shrine to her.

"Who is she?" a young man asked, his eyes narrowing, trying to determine whether he had seen her somewhere or if she was a celebrity and this was a hoax.

"Unknown, found her on Nar Shaddaa - tossed away after a raid on a Hutt palace." The man responded, a grin curling his lips, "Does the young man fancy her?"

Hearing the origins, the man waved his hand. "No one would be stupid enough to buy a prisoner of the Hutts. Nether be damned, she's probably some enemy of the old Black Sun." The man shuffled away, almost sprinting to escape the salesman and his prize. As time passed, most of the crowd left the man's stand and tent, leaving him to stare at the encased woman.

"Cursed in life and in this facade of death, it seems you are my dear." He reached up, caressing the curve of her cheek and chin. "If I had the money, I would own you more than you are now…" The devilish grin appeared on his face again, his brow darkening as his thoughts wandered.

Either he'd make a fortune off of her or make a fortune to have her. Whichever happened first - he'd be a happy and wealthy man.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

War brought out the worst in people and the black market carnivals that seemed to pop up regularly were evidence of that simple fact. Some individuals were merely trying to survive, to collect enough credits to flee from conflict. Others were looters and robbers, pilfering treasures and artifacts from those systems affected and smuggling their ill-gotten gains to sell later. What she was doing at this place; even she couldn't seem to answer that fact. Perhaps it was a mere curiosity, a means to slip away from Coruscant for a few moments and see the effect that the war was having on the common individual. Or, perhaps she was merely seeking to save some forgotten treasure in hopes of returning it once peace or some semblance of had returned to the Galaxy.

She was, first and foremost, in many areas, a collector, having amassed her private hoard of artifacts and rarities that graced the walls and halls of her private residence. That was what she was looking for that day, oddities, items that others thought garish or morbid; artifacts from cultures long since dead and equally forgotten. Even in these difficult times she still found a means to keep herself hidden, her identity obscured to prevent gawking eyes or allow an individual an opportunity to deprive the Alliance of one of its greatest assets.

Each step fell heavy, the armor-clad woman moved among the crowd with an eerie fluidity that shouldn't be possible in the armor she wore. Despite maintaining her helm in its rightful place, a heavy cloak still covered her head, the fabric seeming to entwine itself with the heavy kamas secured to her waist. Beneath her helm, golden-yellow hues slowly observed the carnival, watching the people as they moved from booth to booth, yet there was only one that caught her eye.

Tucked away in the corner, almost like the proprietor was attempting to keep it hidden and out of sight despite the dark silk curtains. It was intriguing enough to draw her focus as she made her way toward the stall even as the other attendees had already made their rounds and slipped off toward the other stalls and booths of the carnival. Her arm slowly pushed the silk curtain away as she stepped in, rising to her full height as she towered over the proprietor of the strange stall.

"And what curiosities do you offer?"

Her voice slipped into existence as she slowly looked around the stall. As her attention fell on the back wall, she looked over the carbonite slab with a glance, her attention already shifting toward another wall when she stopped. Memories pulled from the past welled up, the faint image of Fiore flashing in her mind before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. Something tingled in the back of her mind as her attention fell back upon the carbonite slab. It wasn't... It couldn't...

"No... She was on Hoth..."

Amelia said to herself in a near whisper before stepping forward, her golden-yellow hues falling upon the carbonite slab and the sleeping Eldorai woman held within.

Fiore​

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[Fiore]

//: Amelia von Sorenn //:

The man took quick notice of the armored woman. She stood out compared to his other customers. He could sense the nobility and the wealth that poured off and bled in her aura. Thin lips spread into a pleasant grin. "Like what you are seeing, Ma'am?" the salesman bowed slightly, lowering his head further from the towering woman as a hand waved towards the carbonite girl. "Beautiful, isn't she?" He started, "I found her discarded on Nar Shaddaa; it was as if she called out to be under the pile of garbage the officials tossed aside." He caressed the carbonite form again, almost losing his thought.

"Oh, where are my manners?" he pulled back and offered his hand to the woman, "Master of Oddities Crik Horne." His smile widened, showing rotted teeth towards the back of his mouth.

Crik pulled his hand back and looked back at the woman. As much as he desired to sell her off, he also had grown fond of having her around. "Pity someone like her would end up with a fate like this; such an odd way to have someone frozen in carbonite - almost as if it was meant to be a tomb." The man continued to ramble as he started to rummage around. He seemed to be looking for something. "I've had her for some time now, I want to say a handful of years. Always tried to figure out if I had the means to unfreeze her, but you know about hibernation sickness and that it gets worse the longer someone is frozen." Stopping, he found the gauge and the information, "According to this, she has a few months left of life support - so maybe it was a tomb after all." The man giggled at the thought of the unfortunate girl being imprisoned long enough for her to die.

"Oh well, so do you still want to purchase her?" He waits and then runs his hand against the shape of the Elvin girl's form once more. "Great piece of art to hang in an office or over a fireplace. It's even better once the life support runs out." He shrugged, "Won't have to worry about the gaudy blinking warning system; her price is twenty-four million credits."

He smiled and held out his hand. "No more, no less"

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Amelia stood silently, her golden-yellow hues remained focused on the carbonite slab, and beneath the helm that obscured her face they began to slowly shift. Anger and Rage filled the woman, and had she been a Force Sensitive, the Dark Side could have easily been seen flowing into her as she listened with a growing annoyance and disgust to the one calling himself Crik Horne. Her golden-yellow eyes shifted, turning into those brilliant, vibrant blues as the emotions filled her form, wrapping themselves around her as she leaned her head to one side, rolling her neck slowly and biting back the anger that continued to fester deep within.

Stepping forward, her attention fell on the flashing display for the life support system, knowing all too well how important it was. Amelia had utilized such technology in the past, specifically on a timed sensor to release her at the end of a hibernation cycle, this system, however... It seemed that whoever or whatever had placed Fiore into it was expecting her to expire and become entombed within the carbonite; making the fact that he was attempting to sell her as an art piece all the more reason for her to take action. His voice grated against her mind as she heard his words worm their way into her ears, her jaw clenched, balling her hand into a tight fist, still barely maintaining the illusion of control and calm despite a raging storm brewing beneath the surface.

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment when she heard the price, the storm reaching its tipping point at that moment as her hands slowly rose and pushed the hood of her cloak away from the helm. Without a single word, she carefully removed the piece of armor, white tresses of hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back like a waterfall as her brilliant, blue eyes remained focused on the young woman. She mouthed something, the words seemed to slip in and out of existence with ease, it was almost like a promise, yet so soft-spoken as to be meant for only the two of them.

As he held out his hand expecting payment, she took his hand instead. Her movement was swift and fluid, like a rushing river tearing through a valley after a storm. Her hand had grasped the hilt of the vibrosword at her side and flicked the ultrasonic vibration generator on in a singular motion as it was pulled free from its sheath. The blade hummed as it oscillated back and forth, a hint of blood trickling down the blade before it fell to the floor of the display cart that they stood in.

"She belonged to me once long ago and I'll see that she is freed before she ends up hanging on someone's wall..."

Amelia growled as her lips slowly turned into a devilish smile, at first it was only a hint of her fangs. Slowly, as her smile grew, it seemed like her fangs grew along with an equally wicked grin, one that showed a lifetime of rage and resentment, pain and anger, that had been buried so deep as to be forgotten. Her hand reached out, grabbing at Mr Horne's shirt before firmly throwing him across the room against the wall next to Fiore.

"What other parts have touched her so I might claim them?"

She said in a calm, measured tone whilst slowly pivoting on her hind foot to face the man again...

Fiore​

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[Fiore]

//: Amelia von Sorenn //:

The loss of his hand came too quickly for the salesman to realize what had happened. His face writhed in horror as flesh flayed and his hand removed from his body. As soon as her attack came, the second followed, and he found himself hitting the wall hard, bones cracking, joints groaning as he slid and landed beside the carbonite slab. Only Amelia's words echoed after her brilliant show of strength. Nothing stirred, and the hum of the carbonite slab continued to prevent silence.

"I guess you aren't that interested," he laughed as his flesh began to stitch itself back together. The bleeding stopped from the stump as it began to slowly regenerate. It was going to take time, and the attack from the woman took him by surprise. He stood while his laughter grew louder. Suddenly, it stopped as he walked towards her; the room around them grew dark. Ribbons of red flowed from the stray occupants, people obviously loyal to the man. At a closer look, it was apparent the ribbons were sinew. The sound of death echoed around them as the last occupants sacrificed their lives to their Lord.

As he grinned at Amelia, his own fangs manifested, mirroring her. He stopped as he finished absorbing the life essence of his slaves. Wiggling his fingers, he sighed happily. "That was exciting. It's been ages since I met another like myself." With his hand regenerated, the man moved quickly, stepping forward with a dash and showing off his speed. "To answer your question," He started as he stood at Amelia's side for a moment, "All of her," His lips curled over every letter as his grin widened sinisterly. With every ounce of his ancient strength, he reinforced his muscles. He swung a direct punch toward Amelia's chest, hoping to drive her back with the same power she had tossed him aside.

"Did I forget to mention that I was her original captor? She fought brilliantly if she had trained under you - you taught her well." Another laugh,

"She did cry for you, Amelia; her tears were so sweet."

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

The room filled with a cacophonous crack, the kind that would come heralding a storm of lightning, the wooden floor of the cart splintered as Amelia stood silently, head down. She made no attempt to move, nor to dodge, she merely accepted the strike and further shown that she was a bulwark, a shield for those that could not protect themselves in a Galaxy that had fallen into chaotic discord. Thin lines spiderwebbed across the cuirass of her armor, the impact of the strike showing at the center as she remained silent and still as though she were processing the situation.

Without another word her left hand shot up, clutching the wrist at the base of the first that had skillfully landed the blow. Her grip slowly tightened as she began to slowly drop her elbow towards her side and wrench his arm up and away before flicking her own wrist to snap his. Amelia rose her head up slowly, those vibrant, brilliant blue eyes of hers shown a ferocity that few had seen before. The rage had reached its tipping point, and yet, after that first show of force, she was eerily calm, even as blood trickled from her mouth, the strike having done some internal damage.

"My turn..."

Amelia growled, her hand releasing the hilt of her blade that was imbedded in the floor, showing signs that it and her stance had been what prevented Horne's strike from pushing her back despite its power. Rolling her right shoulder back, she clenched her hand into a fist in the same motion, her eyes locking with his before twisting at her hip and driving her right hand into his chest. At the same time, her left hand tightened its grasp on his wrist, yanking his arm forward in time with the strike as though she were attempting to rip it from its socket.

It was only at the final moments that she released his wrist, her right hand recovering and quickly grasping the hilt of her blade to free it from the floor in a singular sweeping motion. The blade hummed, nearly screaming as though it were a conduit for the rage that Amelia felt, her knuckles cracking slightly as she kept a firm grip on the hilt. There had been a time for words, and now, now was the time for action.

If Horne wanted to waste his breath on words, he was more than welcome... each would cost him...

dearly...

Fiore​

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