River Carry Me

[Vereshin]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1L2z7wCB1QY​

A bridge of stone stood high above a river beneath the melancholy sky of Necropolis. Placing one pointed toed boot on the grass between an opening flanked by trees, Vereshin hovered cautiously while he observed the slow movements of a woman. A blurred and graying seepage of light stretched through far reaching darkness and struggled to completely grace the damp surface of the world. The movements of a filthy night gown swayed against the breeze as she dragged her feet along the grass. Vereshin remained in his stance. He watched her with growing intrigue.

Across the other end, on the opposite side of the woman, another figure approached, one proficient in the Force as Vereshin could sense. Cigarette resting in his fingers pressing lightly against his lips, he billowed smoke into the fog as he placed a foot ahead of the other. Something about the presence of the woman in the center of the bridge felt unsettled or corrupt. Poisoned, as though an otherwordly force controlled her. Vereshin moved forward and as the space between them dispersed he could clearly witness the black windows which shone where her sclera should have been.

She did not see him and he parted his lips in curiosity. A trail of saliva hung from her cracked lips and her mouth hung open slightly in an incoherent daze. She turned around abruptly and stepped directly onto the stone edge of the bridge, before falling limply into the river below. A muted crack echoed through the quiet landscape followed by the shrill impact of water. A bell tolled on the horizon. Vereshin realized she had been a victim of a wider curse affecting the young women on Necropolis, although he had never before seen one in the flesh.

The dark sorcerer's eyes widened in slight shock. He did not recognize any remorse, merely a pang of unexpected curiosity and an insatiable need to know exactly what was happening. Studying the curse to utilize the mechanics in his own work lingered in his ambition. Agent Evoros contacted him for assistance in deciphering the curse on Necropolis and possibly compounding a solution for a counteract. She approached him surely and Vereshin wondered with his hands in his pockets to the other side of the bridge. The limp body of the girl trailed swiftly through the running water, the river her final friend.

"Good morning, agent." Vereshin greeted Evoros as he turned around to face her. He wore a long, black trench coat beneath a dark, fraying scarf. His trousers too, were black and loose and puffy, tucked into boots with pointed toes and rows of buckles. He discarded his cigarette over the edge of the bridge and into the water. The cooperation between Vereshin and Evoros would prove a clash of intellectual prowess and mentalist techniques, no doubt.

[member="Evoros"]

 

[Evoros]

[member="Vereshin"]​

She could've been a statue for all she seemed to notice the woman's death.

Yvonne Evoros had a great deal of experience with death, with violence - too much to let it move her. Work like hers didn't allow for the chaos of emotion tangled into a mission. She was always careful in gambling sentient life, painfully meticulate in measuring the value of successes against casualties, but apathy's glacial hold had chilled sentiment to nothing. Once, death would've done something for her - a sense of distress, injustice, maybe even guilt.

Now?

“It is,” the agent agreed, and it was a good morning suicide and all.

Necropolis was a more melancholy place than most, not that Evoros minded. At least it was warmer than the frozen plains of Arkania - work with the Collective had its perks, but the location wasn't one of them. But naturally, she hadn't gone this far to sightsee. Her life was comprised near wholly of missions - the times where she wasn't planning or executing or tying up the loose ends of missions, she was training to be better still for her next one. All the things most did outside of work were either inconvenient or inconsequential. Going out for drinks? She ran the risk of being caught in an emergency intoxicated. Friendships, relationships? Attachments were a danger and anyone knowing the first thing personal about her even more so. The only thing she gave value to outside of her work was her search for answers to her own mysteries, and even then...well, she was very carefully too busy to devote long to that.

She was here as Agent Evoros, investigating a curse on behalf of her unnamed employers. Her--the Board's--motivations were practicality rather than intrigue, but it paid to be curious - on some level the two went hand in hand. The Collective believed strongly in creative solutions, creative methods. As for Evoros herself - on the surface her interests were fluid, moldable to those of whoever was offering the credits. On the surface she was whoever it paid most to be. Beneath that, well. She didn't presume to have strong beliefs one way or another. Morality itself, for her, was flexible. Everything had to be. Evoros had learned long ago to leave behind whatever didn't help her.

Reasons, motivations behind a mission didn't cross her mind once. Evoros did her job. She was here for that, nothing else.

“Tell me.” The agent's gaze danced over the river then ticked to her new companion, coolly observative. She didn't like to let on how closely she watched everything around her, but closely she watched nonetheless. “How much do you know of this...issue?”

It always paid to be on the same page in those instances where she couldn't work alone. And perhaps there was something she'd missed.

 

[Vereshin]

"The women have been entranced by a curse drawing them to the Void." Vereshin said to Evoros as he paced forward and glanced over the water. He failed to make direct eye contact with with her and obsessed with the mathematical weaving behind the spell in action. Unstable energy rippled through air and traveled to both of the Force users. Vereshin desired another cigarette and tapped at his pocket while managing some semblance of self-control. Instead, he drew in his hand and produced a pocket watch from his waistcoat. Glistening silver, a cyclonic vortex engraved in the back. He flipped it open and made note of the time.

"If you trust me..." He began. A thick eyebrow arched with an expression of silent warning. "... then I need you to take my hand." The agent belonged to a sect which interested him, one which his numerical capacity could be put to a deeper use. At the very least, this task might prove a gateway into the collective for the disturbed physicist. A pause held between them as Evoros motioned towards Vereshin, she placed her hand between his icy and skeletal fingers and he held by the waist while holding his watch. He moved back the hands one hour and set the time ticking.

They would experience a lack of consciousness for less than a second. A break of darkness fell before their eyes and returned the scene with a gust of energy. The grass rippled with waning sound of Vereshin's ticking watch. With a gasp, he held his breath and released as he released his hold on Evoros. "Follow me." Without any more words, he placed a foot forward and strode ahead. He did not look back as the woman caught up. They passed the trees crowning each side of the bride and followed the crevice between them to a dusty road

Vereshin walked ahead for any sign of the approaching young woman or what may have taken a hold of her before she began her entranced walk to the bridge. He failed to explain to Evoros that both of them had traveled backwards one hour in time and had no intention to shock her. Eventually, they followed the dust path to a stone road and the young woman stood in the center. She was waiting to be hit by a speeder. With a jolt in a stride, Vereshin quickened his pace and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her away to the side of the road.

The woman did not seem to protest, barely coherent and incapable of her own wits. Her hands shook and her eyes rolled slowly around in her head. Vereshin began to utter a simple incantation to calm her mind while leading her behind the trees. She collapsed onto her knees and fell into his arm. Vi reached for his black handkerchief and rubbed the dirt off his hands and clothes.

[member="Evoros"]

 

[Evoros]

If you trust me...

Never, never. Trust was an immeasurable risk, one that Evoros swore years ago to never take. But she could make believe. She could lie. It was, after all, what she did.

Silently, Evoros took his hand and she studied the Sith's watch, waiting. Idly, she realised she was holding her breath. The world went black for a heartbeat (and she could feel that single pulse in her chest, her ears, her throat) and she didn't breathe out until their surroundings returned. Quiet except for her breathing, her heartbeat- and a faint tick, tick. Evoros steadied herself and followed, content with the lack of words exchanged. She was a creature who could just as happily talk as not, just as happily lead as be lead. That was the idea, anyway. Perception was not reality, and Evoros was careful to keep a line drawn between the two in her head. But outside of her mind? The two could be exchanged. People could be deceived. On the outside, Evoros was whoever she seemed to be.

No words still, but Evoros wasn't waiting for an explanation. What wasn't there for her to conclude by herself wouldn't need sharing. Evoros liked to think she could solve for herself. The woman was there, the dead woman, and although the surprise faded from her face as soon as she'd ascribed Vereshin as having caused some shift, there was a sombreness on her features that lingered.

She didn't fear much, but she feared death.

There was no interruption on her part as the Sith pulled the young woman aside. Instead she observed, curiosity mixed into her look of seriousness. It was only when she knew he was finished that she strode to his side.

"But what curse wants...this?"

Intrigue and not horror. Emotions didn't fit into her work.

| [member="Vereshin"] |​