Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Impressions [Eclipsion]

Cadomai Prime
Brella Art Galleria
Renowned throughout the Galaxy as one of the prominent exporters of art of any kind, Cadomai Prime was also a frigid inhospitable world on the surface. Despite it's exotic allure of tourists from all corners of the cosmos, it was still a rather harsh and arctic climate. Mountaintops caked with year round snow, and the plains themselves barely saw any growth over the permafrost that layered the landscape. The lower levels and the subterranean tunnels leading to vast underground cities were a different matter entirely; as they connected a wide array of homes, shopping centers, and museums. Art was the passion of the people in all of it's forms from holography to music and even the written word. A talented lot of sentient beings known as the Snivvians were responsible for such creations. Most of the art was normally exported for sale and trade, but some of it - the best of it they kept here for the local tourist traps. Brella hosted a galleria of their finest works that had been donated by the citizens (or forcibly taken) as their government was heavily bred on dictatorship. It was on a transport ship that Nazo the Wanderer had made his way through the Galaxy to the ice ball of a planet, and there were many regrets on that front.

Within the museum proper of stark white walls, ceiling and tiled floors a curious seven foot tall creature stood motionless surveying masterpieces of art that either projected onto the wall, or hung in more old fashioned variety. Nazo stood out, in the worst ways possible - one of which was his pet Gizka, who decided that one of the warming lamps that was originally keeping a plant company was best served as his own warming station. The lizard's intolerance to the cold was it's first priority to overcome, and a snapping venomous Gizka, no one wanted to touch. While it seemed that the figure's emotionless mask of white and red was fixated on the paintings, and other varieties of art, it was in-fact the creature inside the exoskeleton that was musing on masterpieces. Already a philosopher for many centuries, Nazo was already well aware of the diverse classifications and meanings behind the various tools used to accomplish such sights. However sharing these brief glimpses into the mind of the artist hadn't bode well for many of the tourists in the lobby.

Some poor and unfortunate but highly curious Snivvian had asked about the opinion of Nazo. That had led to a metallic palm being placed on the creature's wrinkled and leathery forehead combined with the touch of his articulate tongue. Magnetic resonance did the best job it could to scramble the beings brain circuitry in an attempt to convey the opinion of a holo-display that was using fractal geometry along with pulsing colors to show his emotions on the fall of the Galactic Empire's fourth incarnation. That seemed to cause quite a fuss, as the man fell into an immediate vegetative coma like state. Nazo didn't filter that kind of communication, and it was indeed a price to pay for any with a weak enough mind to fall prey to his indecipherable ramblings. The only reaction it received from Nazo though was a healthy shrug and a continual perusing of the pieces.

An hour later, the entire museum had been cleared out, with several security guards dead. The galleria had been locked down, and no one was being permitted entrance while they waited for authorities from a nearby system to respond to their call. Something had invaded their home, and it was violent enough to stop their meager response team. It was also quite hardy, as it had taken several pot shots from a blaster to various limbs. What these sentients did not know was that primarily he was made of durasteel, and that wasn't going phase him. With his Gizkla happily napping under the warm glow of a heat lamp, the creature stood in front of a new piece that was assembled in line with the rest. This one he would normally call 'Security Secured' as the guard was strung up on metallic wire, and bleeding out onto the floor from every orifice of it's body. The blood being contained by a ceramic bowl made by another artist. The piece spoke to him, and for the time being, he basked in the emotions of this current selection.

[member="Lord Eclipsion"]
 
'Ah, Cadomai, you and your artist and artisans, thinking you're superior than the rest of the galaxy.' The Sith Lord thought to herself, as she strolled through the allies of the Brella Art Galleria. The planet had become like a second home to Lord Eclipsion, as she frequented the planet often ever since the New Order burned down an art festival here. The smell of dry and caked blood remained in her mind as she walked down the hallways, examining the masterpieces of the Snivvians.

Suddenly, a storm of utter chaos broke out in the galleria as patrons shrieked and sprinted for the door, as the Knight made out some distinct comments about multiple security guards dead from some maniac. She noticed a small trail of blood, and followed until it stopped at an intersection. Eclipsion craned her head to the right, and saw [member=Nazo] standing there. She noticed a man bleeding a river of blood onto the floor. " Clever. You make this masterpiece yourself? " She inquired, pointing at the strung-up man.
 
Fear, dread and absolute panic. These emotions boiled into a pot of seething energy that was being absorbed even now as the silent figure of the Wanderer stood in motionless peace. Dark crimson and dull purple hues decorated his normally grey garb. The flowing material covering him in folds and draping fabric while the rest of his attire seemed to speak of a mix between masculine and feminine. While Nazo himself was a male of his species, the blurred lines indicated that conventional gender wasn't so much an issue. Two long braids of white hair like material hung on either side of a porcelain mask with two large beady red eyes staring blankly ahead. The mane of feathers and other synthetic material rose above the mask and covered back of the head like object in a fan of plumage. Seven feet tall, lanky and lean. The vision was quite ghastly as he seemed at anytime he moved to do so with such ethereal grace. Months of observing dancers on an entertainment yacht had given him a wealth of knowledge in how to move with ease and grace.

As was his usual custom though, the Wanderer had found that his approach to even discussion of any topic had revolted the sentient population and drove them from his presence. If not for his adorable sleeping lizard nearby, he would be as he always had been - alone. That was the fate of many of his kind - even those not so fortunate to be touched by the enigmatic Force. They were odd creatures, and misunderstood by many. However gauging what species he was in this garb was quite daunting, unless you knew exactly where to look, and provided he was in a sharing kind of mood. The blood that ebbed out of the strung up man pooled into the basin below that he had situated just to keep that part of the floor clean. A curious time to consider the tile to be needing spared the carnage he created.

While the attentions were focused on his handiwork, a voice caught his peripheral faculties, and a slow ominous turning of his form shifted. Only the upper torso and mask shifted to gaze with a black unimpeded stare directly at the woman who had joined him in the Galleria, apparently unafraid of the havoc already caused. Very few things were known immediately about her purpose and presence here, but the outward display certainly gave him a good head start. The identifying blue skin and crimson eyes of the Chiss species that he'd seen elsewhere. A couple of feint scars visible on her flesh, especially her cheekbone. And for an average Chiss female, she was taller than most, indicating a unique quality. Nazo was silent in response - but that was hardly news. The slug had no ability to speak in any audible tones. Instead, he took her question in and pondered it for the briefest of moments. His form turned back to face the gentlemen draining out his life essence drop by drop now.

After a moment's pause his right arm raised, the digits of his metallic hand glinting in the overhead galleria lights. Speckled on the tips of each sharpened digit were the remnants of the crimson vital that slipped from the man's various wounds. Drawing the fingers one by one into a fist and then out, he extended his forefinger and took a graceful step forward. Touching the tip to the wall, he began to carve a straight line through the thin plaster, staining it deep with the blood of his victim. Several more straight lines came after, while the unmistakable sound of metal tearing plaster was heard in the otherwise silent corridor. Not more than a minute later, a step in reverse was taken and the self-same hand presented the finished signature. That of his name in deep red lines. 'Nazo'. After all, every artist should sign his work.

[member="Lord Eclipsion"]​
 
Now, Lord Eclipsion wasn't easily intimidated. When she faced a Jedi who in turn cut her arm off, she wasn't scared in the slightest, and when fighting a Rancor on Oberon didnt even make her break a sweat. But seeing a unknown creature, possibly an unknown species , began spreading bright, crimson blood on the snow white walls shook her a little bit.

But, right before she was about to spring forward and attempt to kill it, she noticed what looked like Galactic Basic. The Sith Lord took a couple steps back, and read out ' Nazo' , murmuring it under her breath. The knight swiveled on her heel and turned to the man, and spoke to his porcelain mask. " Nazo...? Is that your name? Ah, never mind, it must be. Can you communicate beyond writing? " Eclipsion asked, now genuinely curious.

[member=Nazo]
 
Most species in the Galaxy could speak, very few of them were innately mute. Even the Wookies of Kashyyk were able to bellow out their feelings of anger, or amusement in guttural rolling growls. Though it seemed incomprehensible, it was still a language that was documented as a legitimate communication of the species. Nazo had none of these qualities, no mandibles to move, or jaws to articulate sounds. He was one of the few who had to rely on alternative methods of communication. However, the slug knew well that his native form of transmitting thoughts and having discussions was lost on the large majority of the Galaxy's populace. In point of fact, it was rather jarring and unwelcome. Even the handful of times he'd introduced himself to sentient beings, they generally all went into a sort of shock state, save for just one or two who were able to handle the reaction. Thank the Force he had learned a secondary method of speech that was far easier to digest for a good portion of life.

"Between mind and mind the pathway can open. Should I loose my tongue, odds are trouble will brew." It wasn't exactly directly answering her questions, but it did enough of the trick. The telepathic sound entering her mind, echoing with the voice he'd constructed once he had become familiar enough to warrant a selected tone. This incarnation was his default, and it was a mix between that of a child, and a demon from the pits of Mustafar. Another movement, just as poised and elegant as he swept back part of his garment, to allow the still shocked face of the Snivvian whom he'd tried his other ability of speech with. The man was comatose and not dead, but he'd sure have one hell of a headache when he woke up. Whether the Chiss would understand what he meant or not, was moot at the moment. He had introduced himself, and now it was her turn. At least that was what he suspected from ritualistic greetings he had observed in his many travels over two centuries.

Metallic hands clasped together as if to signify a waiting posture while the seven foot figure loomed above. His mask and head tilted down to indicate direct contact, as if the figure was waiting for her to respond in course with some preliminary information about her presence here. Thus far he had not frightened the woman or caused her to lash out at him for simply observing. He didn't always understand the bipedal condition of most beings, and their reactions. He did however relish in their emotional upheaval when he assaulted the commonplace with his rather unique desires. That alone was buying her courtesy enough to extend the invitation to discourse. At least they would have some time to talk before the port authorities arrived and stormed the galleria. Nazo had already calculated that he would need to leave soon, or else be stuck on the frozen planet for a while longer until another ship came in that he could hitch a ride on.

The Intergalactic trail of the slug had moved from mid to outer rim several times. He'd been a part of cargo trips back and forth between the hyperlanes, and he'd seen many wonders both inside and out of the freighters he stowed aboard. Even for a brief stint was the silent slug a guest of a Sith Lord. There was some passing of knowledge, but nothing of structure. While he had no set destination in mind, he generally found something to satiate his sadistic and philosophical interests. Currently though, he was already plotting as to which next masterpiece he would make a meal out of, for he was already finished digesting his last meal aboard the tourist transport that he came in with.

[member="Lord Eclipsion"]
 
" Between mind and mind the pathway can open. Should I lose my tongue, odds are trouble will brew. " The strange mixture of a light, childish tone and a low, guttural growl echoed in the Chiss's mind, as the Knight pondered [member=Nazo]'s words. ' So...He's telepathic. Interesting. ' Eclipsion thought, as she watched the creature put it's hands together in a tight grip.

The Lord gazed at him, as he swiftly and gracefully shook off some of his outfit. In turn, she spoke to the mysterious enigma. " It's intriguing that you can communicate through telepathy, Sir. I do not believe that it can be the only way you can communicate, but it will suffice. What is your species, if you'd be willing to share such vital information with me. "
 
Confusion washed over the slug, as he was never at fault to find surprise in these curious bipedal creatures. Their mannerisms and approaches to strange sights and sounds. While most were commonplace by now, every now and again, he'd find a reaction he hadn't seen coming - making it stand out so much the more. The form of Nazo however didn't give that aspect speech, but silenced all his emotions as they radiated within. Only a tilt of his mask in curious reason perpetrated his own emotional state. The Chiss interested him enough that he did not return to the death of a guard as his current level of entertainment. She however was being awfully polite for someone he only expected to be of a darker persuasion. He had not gathered information from the Force about her, but merely her observance in casual non-nonchalant manner of his own handiwork. Those that took murder as some sort of crime had already fled, and yet she stayed. Even he wasn't that polite - though polite for him was far from normal.

Drawing a hand up to the porcelain mask as thumb and forefinger drew over the chin portion, as if calculating and weighing her question. Things had become natural for him, symbolism of humanoid action translating to the state of their thoughts and feelings. Nazo acted them with great alacrity and zeroed in on most of the key basics to make this seven foot tall ruse acceptable. Digits left the mask, each hand falling to his side before another pondering motion came into play. The mask tilted towards the ceiling in another bout of expressing his thoughtful process. His concealment was not only for mobility, but for anonymity. People generally did not fear a slug of his size, clinging to a wall. He knew that well enough from his previous experiences. People paid him no mind in that form. However in this guise, he was a monster to the masses, a demon come to haunt their dreams and harrow their very soul. Still it wasn't as if she was going to do him much harm - not with that tone and body posture.

"Only fitting that identity be revealed mutually." The space slug tested the Chiss before he made another movement. She had yet to reveal a single thing about herself, and he'd already written his name alongside his new piece of art. Revealing his identity required her to offer up ample payment of the same. He knew enough about her to perhaps be an acquaintance, but a name, perhaps a profession might indeed help. His social skills were a bit lacking however, as his own persona was not so much the subject of social inquiry. From the corner of the room, the mutated Gizka finally woke, stirring from other noises it heard nearby and rolled out from the heat lamp, and scratch at it's reptilian hide. Large glossy eyes blinked until it found it's Master, and began to merrily hop in that direction. Skittish a bit of the new creature, of which he tentatively smelled and then slipped into the confines of Nazo's flowing garments.

[member="Lord Eclipsion"]
 

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