First Reply Malleable Moderation

[Decima Zambrano]

Vibrant, coarse, turbulent, even daunting. Each apt in their nature, divisive in their course but all incorrect in juxtaposition of the other the longer she observed it. It sitting in her hand pulsing with the same warmth and reflection as the day it had become as it was. It mattered not how long she watched or studied it, nor how far she strained her mind to understand it. The crystal remained defiant in it's unwillingness to welcome her into recognition, as though the very essence of it craved for something she knew not how to reproduce; standing as both a temptation and a testament to an indiscernible mystery she had yet to solve.

A look of contempt furrowed her features as she slowly clenched her fist around the glowing red stone and tucked it away into a pocket of her coat as she rose to her feet. How many times had she stared at it in an inane effort to seek answers she knew wouldn't come? How long had she pored over the reflection of herself she saw in it whom she could not reproduce with which to reach it? Again, for the first time in days, she grit her teeth and passed a sharp and rigid sigh through her nostrils as she glanced up towards the polluted night sky. The stars weren't visible, twin satellites shining through the thin miasma as the only means to signify passed time.

She found such sights to be grotesque. Not out of contempt for they themselves, but rather for the means by which they coalesced. As her eyes fell upon the lights and buildings on the horizon a moderated scowl that formed stood testament to her feelings as she watched billowing pillars of smoke rise to the skies from the colony's mines. She understood the need for such things, the nature of resource on the galactic economy, but an itch at the recess of her understanding contemplated why some backwater colonies resolved to implement rudimentary technology vastly contrast to many, many others. Even still the notion was fleeting.

Moments passed, lights streaking about barely permeating the sheet of miasma, and her gaze was gradually captured by a large vessel lowering itself into the space above the colony's city center. The light from the satellites slipped away behind it's vast hull, the shape of it determining it's nature to her from the catalogues in her mind that had been shown to her by her raving patron. It was a cruiser by the looks of it and one that appeared to be present with the purpose of collecting whatever material this colony produced, regardless as to what value it did or did not hold. For a moment she let her gaze linger, tracing along the sleekness of the craft before pulling away and turning back to her makeshift camp.

Even should she know it's origin, or it's purpose, a days travel from the colony moderated her anticipation as she accepted it would still be there when she departed and arrived there the next day. One of the loon's few sane adages came to mind as she closed her eyes and tilted her head with a small pop as she relieved tension in her neck. 'Giving way to impatience and expectation only grants an inadequate perception of true value regardless of it's nature or purpose.' As much a sane as it was an inane phrase, she thought to herself, proving to be just as much a confusing riddle as it did a comfort when desires often loomed just within reach of such things.

With another heavy sigh and a click of her tongue she once again produced the stone from her coat and rolled it around between her fingers. In time it too would have no longer be able to hide behind the demands of patience.

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Satiate //
// Focus // // Decima Zambrano //

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The low growl of the ship's engine had managed to create a soft relaxation for the Echani, something so foreign to her in the recent years. Much of her time lately had been spent increasing her abilities in the force and the weaving of flesh. There was little that she could do to distract herself from the call of her new alchemical powers, and yet she found herself in a calm mood tonight.

Her mission was anything but.

The colonies offered boundless potential for research of the form, from the way that sickness poured through the commoners in such a place to those that didn't have a family that would miss them. A soft smile curved her lips as the lights of the city came in through the viewport, such boundless potential of discovery.

Even from this distance, she could put a lithe finger of the literal pulse of the city. Such fine specimen to work into her research that would allow her a further understanding of her own abilities as well as just what she was capable of in manipulating the blood and meat of others. There was a perversion in her thoughts, drowning in the intoxication of just what she had been reborn capable of.

She would be unattended for this venture, preferring the isolation in which to practice her craft. A hood did little to hide her visage, silver strands of hair still hanging loosely as the outline of her horns could be seen in the silhouette past her hood. She breathed in the air as she stepped out from the craft, drinking in the scent of blood from the busy starport.

It was delicious.

Operating in the city held little value for the Echani however, risk of discovery too high to be deemed worth. As valuable as the specimen here were, the real quarry would be found away from the centre of the city, out amongst the commoner's that delved into the depths of the planet. Where none would notice a missing man or woman.

It didn't take long to procure a speeder from the city, a Zeltron male acting as chauffeur for her time here. Even sitting in the back of the car, she could feel the siren hymn of blood racing against the man. It sung sweetly to the senses of the Echani, tantalising her as she simply stared against the back of his neck.

The man's discomfort could be felt, though whether it was more base than fear in its nature Jorryn couldn't tell. A finger ran along the back of the man's neck, ever the provocateur, she revelled in the rush of his blood as the lithe digit carved a crescent against his neck. It had been so long since she partook in her debauchery.

A bloody scene would be left in the car as she exit in the middle of nowhere, self control having taken leave of the former Lord Inquisitor as she toyed with the man. A small vial being all that would be remembered of the encounter as she stepped foot into the fields of wheat that decorated the area surrounding the mountains.

And as she breathed in the air of the world, calming the rush of her own blood, another siren song called out to her from the distance.

This one was darker in its nature, more significant in the strength and potency of such magic. An impish smile crossed her lips as she realised exactly what the sensation told her about it's bearer.

How much more delicious they might be.

 

[Decima Zambrano]

It began as a whisper grazing against the bottom of her skull. Or that was as she described it when the presence of another graced her intimate vicinity. They had no words, no utterance of conscious thought, but rather were more of a hushed rasping of inclination that drove her mind to acknowledge the origin with what manner she was able. It had been the same with the acolytes when they'd been her first experience with an outsider familiar with the darkness and a similar dichotomy with the stranger that had sought to execute her and remained as nothing but a memory inside the stone that rest between her fingers.

The scent of blood filled her nostrils before any sound of movement reached her ears. Fresh, visceral and overwhelming as it had been with each time her fist had been caked in it. It was a smell that brought a nostalgic sensation to the skin of her digits that caused them to instinctively flex away an invisible layer of residue as she turned to face the direction from which the smell had come. She understood what lengths it took to extract an amount of life's essence to produce such a strong odor; she remained poised.

"I give you a minute." She uttered in a low and chillingly calm tone, leaving the purpose of that minute to interpretation as she drew in a slow and decisive breath through her nostrils and raised herself to her full height against the illumination of the far before her. What she could discern through the soft light, permeating the darkness only enough to present a minuscule level of details, was that the other was a woman with frost white hair and features she could have easily confused for species known not to posses any hair for any means other than what her patron had described as depraved experimentation.

As she stood in silence, what few moments would likely fill the air between them in anticipation of utterance, she took a moment to allow indulge the whispers. Wordless as they were, flickering and dancing along the line of sentient communication, they told her in volumes what she needed to know of the nature and magnitude of the others relationship with the darkness. And what she began to discern from it was that this being, this person, was more than merely bathing in the darkness but rather tethered with it in a manner that she still found difficult to comprehend; the darkness was not merely her companion but it was a part of the reason for her very existence.

Refraining from exhausting her mind, withdrawing her inquisition, she instead rolled her neck to release a building tension. The darkness in it's hush bade her posture in favor of establishing a turnabout, her eyes simultaneously observing the distance between them and measuring her size at a distance she could hardly fix her exact size. As the moments passed and the silence grew invasive, she leaned towards waiting for the other to explain themselves; if they chose to.

If they did not? She would do as she'd always done.

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Satiate //
// Focus // // Decima Zambrano //

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Shadows of the night obfuscated much of what was revealed, only the lights of the holotaxi illuminated a path forward. It mattered little to the Echani, it wasn't exactly like she had been using her eyes to move forward. The ever familiar feeling of the dark side wrapped around her hand, pulling her where she meant to go. But tonight was different.

Tonight something came to find her instead.

The lights failed to illuminate the figure as much as the sensation coming from her did, a power that saturated the air around her. A smirk curled on Jorryn's lips as she turned to her target, overjoyed that she didn't have to venture far. It was still undecided exactly what the Echani intended to do tonight.

Using the woman as simple practice seemed a waste, especially considering the full stature as she raised herself. And with it came a warning, a measure of time for the Echani to do... something? Nothing?

The former Lord Inquisitor wasn't sure quite what the woman meant, but it was hardly enough to scare her away from such potency. And so she would assume that the girl offered it as an invitation, allowing a minute to chat with one another.

Jorryn grew closer, though stayed distant enough to allow herself enough time between friend or enemy.

"A minute? That's not long enough to do anything of note..." Her words feigned disappointment, amber gaze never leaving Decima Zambrano 's direction. "Reveal yourself and I might permit you more than a simple minute, depending on the appeal."

Hands fell behind her back and the tips of her fingers rest upon the hilt of her lightsaber even as an easy smile fell upon her face. There was a joy in provocation, but it always needed to be tempered with caution.

 

[Decima Zambrano]

Mere moments passed between she and the other woman after the words fell from her lips. As they did, her fiery orange eyes studying what details she could against a luminescent backdrop, the rest of her body bristled instinctively. Hushed whispers brushed against her consciousness in invitation of that which emanated from the uninvited guest, though their intent she could not discern as they seemed to both encourage and discourage her from pursuing further inquisition. In spite of this, however, her own selective intent to remain frigid took precedence.

Even her own naivety could not deflect her towards ignoring what had been precursor to her present standoff. No stranger to death, violence and bloodshed, she a relative ease in allowing herself posture and time to decipher others intentions whilst in and out of conflict; though she would have been hard pressed to deny that she found a comfort in relishing the latter and the clarity with which it brought to her senses and the promise of power that came from victory attained.

One of the very few things that had been gifted to her was an understanding that power was earned and not simply given. All one needed was to simply take it.

"Turnabout my words if you like, but it changes nothing. Have the time you like but at expense of the time I give you to give me reason not to assume you are a threat to me." She uttered again, this time adding a greater deal of ice to her words to emphasize her disappointment. It had been a mistake to assume that the other would understand her intentions behind her initial warning. While her tone had been practiced and often understood by many she'd encountered prior, it was clear to her now that some seemed to be prone to interpreting such things as they saw fit. Their intentions and whims more easily hidden or complicated in a way she herself could well learn to attain.

Rather than fixate her thoughts on such, however, she instead chose to meet the other woman's words with her own physical reaction. With a step and a half, shifting herself further into the light, sucked in a sharp breath to center herself and adhered fully to the bristling of her body into her full height as she continued to fix her gaze on the smaller woman. As she did so, her muscles tensing and jaw tightening, she felt the dark fold about her like a blanket against the lights that shone upon her from the speeder that blended with the inky backdrop behind it.

The subtlest of movement against the folds of the other woman's cloak had not gone unnoticed, of course, though the distance between them and the shadowing of her figure made determining just what was happening all but impossible. The only reality that she knew well enough was that she would not allow herself to be caught off guard as she'd almost had so many years ago. For even if she'd wanted to the whispers within her mind would not allow as much. Every person she encountered was an enemy until they proved themselves otherwise.

Jorryn Fordyce