Symfora Karr'khash
...don't ask, I ain't tellin'...
The flickering holoprojection of the news broadcast had been playing on repeat for the last hour. A slender form beneath a voluminous cape stood at the edge of the crowd as it looped around again to the beginning.
“Good evening, citizens. A fifth fire in the Garden District has been reported today, believed to be the work of the same arsonist credited with the others. No new details have been released by the authorities, but they have made the surveillance pictures available to us. As you can see, there is a hooded figure watching the blaze at each location, and spatial diagnostics have determined it is the same being. Should anyone have any information, they are urged to contact the authorities imm-”
The holoprojector erupted in a shower of melted components and flames that began licking up the side of the building. The crowd turned into a hundred screaming individuals that each fled in their own direction, nearly trampling one another in an effort to flee. The petite hooded figure remained where it was, flame-kissed eyes narrowed in concentration as the fire eventually flickered out and left only the sparking electronics and smouldering components behind.
Blinking, they moved away from the scene in an effort to lose themselves in the teeming life on Coruscant once more. Anonymity was easy on a planet with such a diverse population in mind-numbingly large numbers.
Even if the number of times you lost control was growing, and your escapes were getting more and more difficult.
Her heart raced, and she savored the sensation.
It took the better part of an hour for her to make her way back to the half-constructed luxury high rise, and slip into the fenced off area unseen. A quiet bribe to one of the guards had ensured her use of one of the finished apartments on the upper floors, giving her a secure place to rest and hide the things she’d escaped with. Once the ‘lift had ascended and she had locked the door behind her, Symfora let the cloak slip from her shoulders as she took a deep, ragged breath.
Five minutes passed, then ten, before she could breathe normally and force her trembling limbs to function once more. She hung the cloak nearby and absently rubbed at the manacles still encompassing her wrists. Finding someone capable of removing them still eluded her, and it would be next to impossible to leave Coruscant with those bindings in place.
Symfora brewed herself a cup of tea and curled up in a darkened corner of the room, eyes flickering as she gazed sightlessly out the tinted window.
“Good evening, citizens. A fifth fire in the Garden District has been reported today, believed to be the work of the same arsonist credited with the others. No new details have been released by the authorities, but they have made the surveillance pictures available to us. As you can see, there is a hooded figure watching the blaze at each location, and spatial diagnostics have determined it is the same being. Should anyone have any information, they are urged to contact the authorities imm-”
The holoprojector erupted in a shower of melted components and flames that began licking up the side of the building. The crowd turned into a hundred screaming individuals that each fled in their own direction, nearly trampling one another in an effort to flee. The petite hooded figure remained where it was, flame-kissed eyes narrowed in concentration as the fire eventually flickered out and left only the sparking electronics and smouldering components behind.
Blinking, they moved away from the scene in an effort to lose themselves in the teeming life on Coruscant once more. Anonymity was easy on a planet with such a diverse population in mind-numbingly large numbers.
Even if the number of times you lost control was growing, and your escapes were getting more and more difficult.
Her heart raced, and she savored the sensation.
It took the better part of an hour for her to make her way back to the half-constructed luxury high rise, and slip into the fenced off area unseen. A quiet bribe to one of the guards had ensured her use of one of the finished apartments on the upper floors, giving her a secure place to rest and hide the things she’d escaped with. Once the ‘lift had ascended and she had locked the door behind her, Symfora let the cloak slip from her shoulders as she took a deep, ragged breath.
Five minutes passed, then ten, before she could breathe normally and force her trembling limbs to function once more. She hung the cloak nearby and absently rubbed at the manacles still encompassing her wrists. Finding someone capable of removing them still eluded her, and it would be next to impossible to leave Coruscant with those bindings in place.
Symfora brewed herself a cup of tea and curled up in a darkened corner of the room, eyes flickering as she gazed sightlessly out the tinted window.