Private Snap Back to Reality

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The city was ripe with opportunity. Many a corporation had seen its headquarters built here - almost a rite of passage for some. Proof they'd made it in the business world. But corporate greed wasn't the only thing that lurked in the nooks and crannies. The city was ripe with danger just as much as it was the opportunity for financial success. For wherever fortune paved its way, ruin followed.

It had been months - years? - since death given form had mingled with the likes of civilized society for more than a bite. Time had lost meaning - reduced only to hunting time and rest. There was no need for social calls, no hot trends to jump on, all fell obsolete in the face of pure, unchecked hunger. The shadows were his ally, the back alleys his hunting ground. His prey, any who caught him at the right time, the livelier the better in his book. The stronger the soup, the sweeter the taste.

A ping of technology, a relic nearly forgotten, grabbed his attention at the tail end of a meal - an admin assistant who'd missed the old sayings about talking to strangers. The hunter greeted the metallic noise with a snarl, turning his attention back to his meal and, finding them finished, letting the corpse unceremoniously topple. His prey had earned his most attentive esteem for the soup they provided, an esteem that vanished the moment they became an empty bowl.

​

The ping persisted. The Waking Nightmare was far from gentle as he fiddled with the device, the ghost of memories trying to slink to the forefront of his mind and place its purpose, thoughts clouded by the never-ending call to feast. A summoning? A banquet. A location? New hunting ground. Old allies? Fresh prey. Oh yes, he'd meet these relics of an old age.

But first, a bite.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

The days of the Confederacy were far off, yet everywhere the wolf looked the remnants of it lingered. Srina Talon was now the Empress of a Sith Order. Gerwald had stepped into a role that suited his talents, but perhaps not his power. That would change. More and more of the Knights Obsidian which had remained behind as he had to keep promises made were on the move. They continued to appear in the most unexpected places.

Gerwald decided to send out a broadcast on an old frequency for anyone listening to it. He would bid those who had once been under to enter his service once again. It would not be for the nation they once served, but for legacy. The wolf craved to prove he was more than the puppet of Sith Lords. He was a Sith Lord himself. Those who were losing their power would give way to those waiting to take it, and Gerwald was among the eager.

His loyalties to the Emperor and Empress made him a natural choice, but as was the way with Sith, Gerwald had been told to prove he deserved the honor and power. To do that he would need more than former Knights. Gerwald would need his shadow. Their frequency had been different. The wolf would ping it as well, and perhaps see if by an off chance he could locate the Anzat.

A summons was sent with a location to meet. Gerwald would be discreet for now. Only one among the current order knew of the shadow which had once followed Gerwald around, his agent and chief assassin. The lupine was not above employing him again for his own purposes or those of the current power he served. Nothing was hidden from Srina Talon, but this was a secret he would keep from the rest. Not even Empyrean would be made aware of the sinister agent Gerwald kept under his employ. Emypyran was not the only one with a weapon to wield. Where Gerwald was a blunt instrument, Oleander was a tool of exact precision.

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The ever-present hunt was put on a momentary hold as Death poured over his old tools. It hadn't been that long since they were put to use, just long enough to cause pause. The nagging hunger made the process more difficult, leading to frustration before answers as he fiddled with the various buttons. Squinted eyes lead to a slight scowl as he went back and forth between fiddling with the technology and holding it as far from him as he could. Farsightedness had likely always been in his genes, but hibernation sickness had only worsened his vision. Fortunately, vision was a secondary sense when it came to his particular purpose. Annoying still, yes, but workable.

The pinged location wasn't too terribly far, nothing a speeder wouldn't make a short trip of. And it wasn't like his most recent meal would need theirs. In another day, a clearer head, the trip would've been spent contemplating the reasonings behind the summons. Perhaps it was by accident? Or a last-ditch plea for assistance. Or maybe someone's half-desperate attempt to reclaim what was lost. The options were endless, but in his current state he was far more concerned with other questions. Who would be there? How many? Was a simple yet hearty meal waiting for him or a veritable feast?

He stashed the speeder not too far off from the set location. It was better to walk in on his own terms, after all. Even under the guise of familiarity, stealth would always be his greatest ally. The shadows had been the closest he'd had to friends for the vast majority of his lifetime, second perhaps only to ravenous hunger.

It was a lonely existence, good in the name of survival itself, but sorely lacking in stimulation. Leander could use a good challenge. And perhaps a small, near silent part of him did long for some return to structure, to purpose. However small, that part of him that craved a familiar face was only another reason that propelled his feet forward. Silent, curious, hungry.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb

Gerwald waited in seclusion. He could not risk others happening upon them in the meeting, and knowing the nature of his compatriot it was a caution which had been well taken. If Oleander was going to attempt to feed on anyone in this meeting it would only be the wolf. He knew that would not stop him from feeding anywhere else if he wished, but the wolf was certain that Oleander's curiosity, and another chance at the lupine, would be enough to draw him out.

He was late.

That annoyed Gerwald because it could mean too many things, and several of them were not good. He took in a breath as he stretched his senses out further, hoping to locate the Anzat. A smile crept on the wolf’s lips when he found his shadow to be close. Close enough the wolf called out.

“I know you’re near. Come out into the open where we can talk.”

Out in the open. It was not how they often met. Gerwald had usually seen to it that their meetings remained hidden away. Oleander had been just another member of the Knights Obsidian as far as anyone officially knew. His capacity as Gerwald’s agent, his shadow, was knowledge only two others outside the lupine had been aware of.

Srina had known. The Lord Commander never dared to hide anything from her. She was one of a few Gerwald could not lie to even if he tried. He had never wanted to. Metus had been the other, only for the sake of transparency. Gerwald had respected the leader of the Confederacy, but he could never have described their relationship as close. Their interactions had been borne of duty, not familiarity. It had never bothered the wolf as it may have some. It was not his destiny to be close to everyone he met.

“It has been too long since we last met. Come now, show me your face.”

 

[Oleander Webb]

TAG: Gerwald Lechner

The calling out gave him pause, recognition setting in. He knew that voice, yes. Not too long ago, he was loyal to it, in his own way. A sentimental figure would've mistaken the ping of excitement for sentiment. In his state now, however, he'd scoff at the notion. But sentiment was something he could take advantage of, if given the chance.

"Out in the open? That's new."

His voice had just the hint of scratchiness from a lack of use. He'd been an entity of few words before, when there were reports to be made and appearances to keep up. On his own, it was a tool that seldom saw use.

"I rather enjoy the shadows."

Instincts suggested he ignore the other's request, begin the hunt right then and there. Gerwald's force of will was something to be reckoned with, this he knew and had almost grown to respect before. The lupine-flavored soup promised to be a feast in its own right, nevermind his previous appetizer. But that wouldn't make for as fun a chase, would it?

"Oh? I haven't aged, if that's your concern."

Taunting as his words were, the creature pulled himself from the shadows that often encapsulated him. Still in his usual leathers, the Waking Nightmare was a shadow of his former self. The old weapons were still at his side, having gone unused but not quite forgotten over time. Not aged but weathered, cheeks sunken, bags casting shadows under his eyes. Said eyes once sharp with the intense focus of a single blade now a pit of just as sharp but far from focused knives. There was a spring in his step, maddened glee.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"