"Come on then, let's see you try," Isar goaded, right into his mind, spreading both hands wide to either side, saberfish nose held out and away.
Guys like these. Always so focused on the physical, ya know. The latest guns. The latest gadgets. The newest ways to kill somebody with a tiny scrap of metal or a big explosive bang. Cool and all, yeah? But whatever happened to the soul, huh? Whatever happened to the
psyche? To that war of wills and imagination? Isar thumbed his nose and winked at
Gavin Restur
.
The Dark Jedi drew upon his talents, raking the fingers of his mind across the masked man's like a tiger raking its claws.
"I'm gonna enjoy this, just for you, special, yeah? Let's go for a walk."
And with that, the world grew dark all around them as Isar
sought to drag their consciousnesses beyond this world and into a plane of dreams. The masked man could steel trap his mind all he wanted. But even steel rusts. Even steel leaks. And Isar would be there, with a bucket, looking at what dribbled out.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Somewhere far and distant. A cold place. A lonely place. Nowhere and yet everywhere. Beyond sight. Beyond hearing. No, wait, there's a voice. It's saying something.
"Who are you?"
A spark. A flame. In the darkness, light. Stutter-stop. Stutter-stop. A wild reel of images flickering over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.
A name. A name. A name. What's in a name?
Whole universes.
"Greetings. My name is Gavin."
A greeting. A callsign. A byway. A path. Taken? No, untraveled this.
Turn right.
"Name's Gavin, by the way. Pleasure to meet you. After watching all them moves of yours, I'm gon' assume you're one of them Jedi. Am I right?"
A name and a title. Not Jedi, but close to one. Words in greeting. Always in greeting. The handshakes, the smile, the easy lackadaise. Howdy, partner, name's Gavin.
Name'sGavinName'sGavinName's Gavin.
An echo in the solace of the mind. A leak. Drip. Drip. Drip. Dripping down through that steel box. Rusting as it went.
"Name's Gavin. May I ask for yours?" Although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, the tone was kept lighthearted.
"Hello Gavin. Who do you know?"
"Pretty name you got there, Valery. The name's Gavin, and it is...mighty fine, to make your acquaintance." Lifting one of his hands up from his belts, to give a brief flick to the brim of his hat. "I don't know much about you Jedi folk, but the past few minutes have left quite the sweet taste in my mouth."
There are names, then there are
names. Gavin knew
names. And- what's this? A spark of familiarity. A face once stolen, a mind once corrupted. Could it be?
My old friend. A face I've worn but I've never met.
Makko, Makko, Makko. Ringing in the hollows. Ringing like a bell. A dinner bell. A bell to feed. Down Isar dove. Deeper and deeper. Pushing and pulling and scraping every last drop from that cage. Oh that cage.
Though, he heard someone mumbling from inside the medical chambers, and glanced over. Watching as [IMG alt="Makko Vyres"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/23/23618.jpg?1660633200[/IMG] Makko Vyres was talking to the thin air. Maybe it was another thing with the Force that he didn't understand. But regardless, he elected to call over to the man. "You alright over there, stranger?" Asking the very much so not-alright stranger.
Unwell.
We are all unwell.
Talking to voices, talking to shadows. A name. A face. A name and
faces. Jedi all. But still, a question lingered.
"What are you?"
"Well, to be truthful: I'm a bounty hunter. The person I'm after was said to have passed through this planet... this area specifically, actually." There was some motioning, electing to sit himself down more on the bench. Might as well comfortable, if he's going to be talking with this person. "They're already long gone, but I'm meant to meet up with a possible informant on where they could have fled to. There's only a couple of planets they realistically could've went, but if I go to the wrong one, there's a good chance they'll slip away."
A gun spinning, a force pike twirling. Shoot and stab. Kill and hunt. The lone tracker, the far seeker, the hunter in the hidden valleys. What's in a job? Nothing. What's in a profession? Everything. A man had a name. And a profession.
"What else..."
Isar pushed deeper, pulling, pulling harder.
He wanted every last drop. And he was so close. There were images there, just in the distance.
A pathway.
A shrouded path.
A-
Gavin Restur