"The Boonta is far more dangerous than any amateur race I've flown!"

[Lilla Syrin]

On the outskirts of Mos Espa was an immense venue for watching the popular Boonta Eve Classic Podrace. For mainevents, over one hundred thousands beings filled the Grand Arena to capacity. They would file into the grandstand seats, crowd into broad viewing platforms or cluster into the upper tiers to catch a glimpse of the high-speed spectacle.

For a modest fee, spectators could rent hand-held viewscreens which displayed images recorded by fast-flying Podrace holocams tracking the race. From a distance, the arena's seats would look to be a flowing tapestry of colour, as race-fans from all throughout the Outer Rim Territories congregated.

Alien food vendors would roam the crowds, offering exotic wares, bands both amateur and professional tootling race themes and popular melodies to cheer on their favoured pilots, fans brandishing flags bearing their racer's emblems.

The wealthier of Mos Espa's residents and guests could afford private viewing boxes separated from the rest of the rabble. The most opulent of viewing boxes were reserved for the ruling Hutts. And the shrewd Hutts turned a love of speed and crashes into a massive influx of truguts for their coffers.

The arena wasn’t just a place where they held Podraces, for sometimes the Hutts sponsored fights there, too. Since the fights were between some of the most fearsome creatures in the galaxy, the arena had some holding pens built where beasts could be locked away until they fought.

Soon Lilla saw the arena in the distance, its lights already shining in the late afternoon. It rose above the desert on the outskirts of Mos Espa. Crowds of slaves and free people alike were filing through its gates.

Music played. A commentator announced the night's events. A series of fights.

The slaves were allowed to enter for free. Some were required by their masters to watch what happened to any slave who dared try to escape from Tatooine. The early fights pitted slaves against any manner of fearsome creatures. It was never, in reality, a fight.

And the free people paid for their own entrance, a minimal fee to satisfy their morbid curiosity.

And Lilla? She was here because greed, combined with excess always led to sloppiness. The petty criminals would be out in force, and she was here to cream was she could from their ill-gotten gains.

[member="Paige Blossom"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

So this is what I'm making a living out of. Priscilla thought into herself. While usually she wouldn't be 'up' for this type of work, it certainly beat grunt work on ships or mercenary jobs. Beating up a few petty criminals and getting a small portion of the local sweepstakes was what she was used to now. Not surprisingly, she was a little overdressed for the situation - her regular body suit clinging tightly to her skin. Oddly enough, she wasn't sweating, and no, before you ask she hasn't had her sweat glands removed.

Unlike most things, they served a purpose.

Occasionally a wanderer would slip by her in the underground portion of the massive arena, giving a glancing wave or simply smirking though she never responded instead continuing to stare forward into what seemed to be an abyss, though was really a myriad of colors. One woman moved within breathing distance of her, expecting Priscilla to be... easy, at which the Chiss promptly responded with a fist to the woman's face, grunting as her skull slammed onto the stone cold floor, knocking her out and leaving a sanguine pool for the beasts to smell, taunted by the tantalizing effect of the liquid.

Rather than await a guard to come and disqualify her, she moved along swiftly, searching for something of interest before she was scheduled to fight.

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

It was invariably a restless crowd. And restless was a polite euphemism for nasty.

The racing crowd was boisterous enough — and too much for the unsuspecting. When there was a fight on, the combination of the smell of blood, all that testosterone and the promise of violence attacked a certain type of onlooker.

Many simply liked to watch. Lilla didn’t really understand this type. She could see where those that chose to compete were coming from. Some needed the money and others enjoyed the sport. She didn’t approve, but then, she didn’t have to. But at least they were in control of their lives and success depended upon their skill.

But the voyeurs she did not connect with. Why watch someone fight? In fact, why pay to watch someone fight? You could head into any Mos Espa canteen after dark and watch it for free.

She shook her head absent-mindedly, then, realising what she was doing she picked up her pace and strolled towards the odds-makers. There were controls in place to ensure the Hutts gained their slice of every action — including the proceeds of any gambling.

And where there was gambling, there were credits. And credits attracted pick-pockets. And pick-pockets were what Lilla was looking for. She would liberate their ill-gotten gains. She would keep what she needed to pay for a couple of days of food and the rest she would hand over to a hospice she had used more than once — one that she knew the donation would be passed on to those that needed it. It would pay for food and shelter. She knew only too well how these commodities were taken from granted by most and out of the reach of too many.

As she walked forward with purpose, she spotted an incident out of the corner of her eye. The centre of attention was clad in a tight-fitting bodysuit that left little to nothing to the imagination. Lilla by-passed the already congealing pool of blood and deftly removed a purse from a pickpocket that had no doubt used the woman’s antics as a diversion. Lilla slipped the purse back into the pocket of the Rodian that still hadn’t realised she’d lost it, and decided to follow in the wake of the person she could only assume was here to fight officially. Assuming she didn’t get arrested or disqualified first.


[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

Unconcerned, her head turned back and saw that of what looked to be a regular street rabbler, tutting and turning back and continuing to her destination; and that destination was a few hundred meters down the straight and narrow path.

Should I really just stay for this? The enjoyment that I get is... minimal. The patrons are... disgusting. The Hutt who runs the sweepstakes even worst. It was about now that she usually went and submitted a bet for herself under a close personal friend, moreso an accomplice. Priscilla's wealth at this point was extremely large - larger than your average bounty hunter. Through both contracts and this corrupt scheme it had been rising slowly for the past year. After her multiple journeys to the system and her even more numerous fights that she had participated in the crowd's boos, yells and whatnot were but a mere whisper.

One final corner.... And there she was. Sulokinn the Hutt. Well, she is probably a wrong classification, but Sulo didn't mind. So long as people were feeding her credit chips and weren't trying to get their money back 'it' was more than happy to let her clients call her whatever they wanted. Sulo had taken it upon herself to hire out a few guards, 2 to be exact to keep the revelers from assaulting her, there was some sort of queue now being formed though it was very disorganized and anybody who made the mistake of running to the front were blasted with a stun charge.

One shoulder touched a sandstone column, leaning against it and waiting for the entire thing to die down slightly. Occasionally, she would look behind her, swearing that the girl from earlier was following her. It's just in your head...

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla had to hand it to the woman – she knew how to make an entrance. Her display had already attracted a small entourage that followed – albeit from a safe distance – the bodysuit clad warrior.

This suited Lilla, who knew that anyone who paid particular attention to her would no doubt notice her, but a casual observer would not and even a keen spotter would no doubt put her appearance down to the same reason as the rest of the small crowd – morbid curiosity.

The followers were, as far as Lilla could tell, honest citizens. Their choice of entertainment could be questioned, but not their integrity. It was the followers of the followers that interested Lilla. She could tell them apart because their interest was not on the warrior, but the crowd.

Lilla noted who had pocketed what – regularly passing their ill-gotten gains to a second person, in case challenged and their booty discovered. So now she kept an eye on the handlers – checking if they passed on the various credits and items their pickpocket masters had pilfered.

As she did, she glanced at the warrior – at precisely the same moment the woman looked at her. This was awkward. Eye contact was always a bad thing when looking to remain incognito. Lilla wished she had a hood she could pull over her head, but she didn’t have. Her clothes were little more than rags and bore holes at regular intervals.

Lilla’s eyes cast around for a solution to her problem and she spotted a dark brown cloak left on the back of a chair. Clearly the owner had forgotten it – and the design and age was such that it would not stand out if the rightful owner came looking for it.

Grabbing it as if she’s asbsent-mindedly left it behind, Lilla swung it around her shoulders and raised the hood. Now only unfortunate direct eye-to-eye contact would reveal to the warrior that she was the same young woman.

And as Lilla swept the crowd again, she noticed the warrior was now preoccupied with a Hutt, waiting patiently next to a sandstone column. Lilla wondered what the warrior had in mind and had to admit to being curious.

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

Priscilla's eyes glanced back one final time, confirming her suspicions that the girl from earlier had left her presence before casting her eyes into Sulokinn's den. The poor gamblers had made their bets, and fighting, clashing and bashing could be heard from within the arena. It appeared the first preliminary duels had begun, though from Priscilla's own knowledge she knew this was the stage at which the Hutt's used to cull their slaves rather than any actual entertainment. The final one had made their bet, a slimey looking fellow who seemed all too happy to make money off of others misery.

"How wonderful to see you again, Sulokinn. I trust my money is being kept safe?"

The Hutt looked down towards a lockable piggy bank, square in shape before swiftly turning the key and looking back up, eye's widened slightly.

"Arg-.. Priscilla! Yes, all's well. Your best to win at this stage, 50,000 credits worth in total, as per usual the 10% commission for yourself so long as you take that di-.."

"Indeed. I think it's time we had a discussion about the 'commission'."

The Chiss walked forward, appearing slightly uninterested as she glared the guards up and down. Regular humans, probably slaves the hermaphrodite. They too appeared uninterested, turning and walking to some storage containers and setting their blaster pistols down. The Hutt moved back a few centimeters in response.

"50,000 credits you say?"

The woman's arm slammed into the piggy bank, busting the lock immediately. She wasn't that strong. The lock was almost busted anyway given the age of the equipment.

"Do you think I'm stupid? 50,000 credits? We both know my average total is around 300,000, Sulo. What exactly are you doing with the excess of say, 250,000 credits? Fueling your sparkle crack addiction or whatever you're on this week? I think not."

The guards grabbed their blaster pistols, turning around and firing a shot down though easily sailing past Priscilla's head and thudding into the sandstone. The Hutt turned around and yelled something in her native tongue, if anybody nearby knew the language they would decipher, "something something non-lethal something something no noise". Interestingly enough, Priscilla's voice seemed monotonous throughout the conversation, with very few shifts in pitch and only making necessary physical movements with no fidgeting whatsoever.

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

There was something magnetic about the warrior. She exuded confidence and seemed driven by a purpose. And Lilla was curious to know what that intent was. For whatever it was, the woman had waited until all of the Hutt’s business was concluded before engaging with her.

So she moved constantly. Slowly, assuredly but ever in motion. No quick or flashy movements to catch the eye, but not remaining anywhere long enough to draw attention or be recorded in the memory banks as a fixture.

And her meandering drew her ever closer – until she could hear the conversation between the woman and the Hutt. And whereas the Hutt was clearly used to being in control, this woman challenged that. Lilla was unsure if this was a meeting of equals, or if the woman was about to demonstrate where the actual power in the relationship resided. For their conversation spoke of familiarity but not of friendship.

And Lilla’s ears pricked up at the mention of money. No Hutt ever made an honest credit, and if there was a chance to part the creature from its ill-gotten gains, Lilla was ready to seize it.

At the mention of 50,000 credits, Lilla stopped still, forcing the person behind her to bump into her, cussing loudly. Aware this would draw attention, Lilla offered a profuse but quiet apology and move swifter than usual to a different vantage point – still within earshot.

The short period of silence between the Hutt and woman was, quite literally, broken by the sound of the portable safe being opened forcibly.

It was all Lilla could do not to gasp audibly at the next sum mentioned. 300,000 credits. How many homeless people could eat, drink and rejoice in sleeping somewhere with a roof for that amount?

As Lilla reflected on where the credits could be spent, her attention was brought sharply back into focus by the sound of a blaster that missed its intended target and was closer to hitting Lilla as she stood next to the sandstone pillar.

But what Lilla found most remarkable – and given her training she found most impressive – was that through all of this, the warrior remained calm and impassive. In fact Lilla and the bodysuit clad woman were the only two not to flinch as mayhem ensued.

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

"There's no need to get hasty here Priscilla. 5,000 credits is still enough to pay for your karky appartment."

"5,000 is a far cry away from 30,000. What's the real amount?"

"Uh well.."

The Hutt pretended to look down at the now destroyed piggy bank, searching around the table for some documents. Meanwhile the two guards proceeded to make their way forward, tip-toeing every few seconds while Priscilla stared at the ceiling, clearly understanding Sulo's attempt at stalling out as long as possible.

"Well I'm sure whatever it is, it's nowhere close the amount I'll get paid for collecting the bounty on you."

There was no bounty.

"What bounty? For what?"

"Illegal gambling... lying... backstabbing... stalling."

At which point the woman looked down and found the two guards now standing directly infront of her. Her eyebrow raised in response and unfolded her arms, followed by one of them charging directly at her. This was quickly dealt with, lowering her body slightly and grabbing the woman by her torso, vaulting her over and slamming her head into the floor. By the time she had turned around however, she was now on the receiving end of a tackle which resulted in her falling backwards and now struggling to pushing the Hutt's grunt off of her.

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

It was odd that a crowd had travelled here to see fighting. They’d even paid for the privilege. But now something less staged was happening in close proximity to them, the assembled throng were creating a wider and wider berth around the Hutt and the woman – Priscilla apparently.

But Lilla was fascinated and also curious to see how high the credits would go. And how long Priscilla’s patience would last, given the Hutt’s clear attempt at stalling.

The answer was not long, as the warrior called out the Hutt’s true motives and almost instantaneously two guards engaged with Priscilla.

Right now, Lilla was keen to observe. In an ideal situation, there would be sufficient turmoil for the young woman to sneak in and grab the contents of the safe. She did not fear the Hutt, or the guards. But she needed to know the warrior was definitely out of the equation before she would risk such a move. Lilla figured this was not someone to cross and almost certainly someone she could not evade if a chase ensued.

So for now she watched as Priscilla dealt with one guard and was now wrestling with a second.

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

From a distance, all that any bystanders could see would be a few indiscriminate punches being thrown into the dueling partner's stomachs, each having barely any effect. Occasionally, a grunt could be heard from either side as they continued to be ineffective at dealing a significant blow. The fight was getting tedious, even Priscilla was initially excited, something she usually never was, at the prospect of fighting a worthy foe, but as the large man laid strew atop of her and the relative quickness of dispatching the other incompetent she grew less and less amused.

She conserved her strength, for now. The man was in no such patient move, and continued to throw fists at her face, each time she would move her head just slightly enough, or manuveur her arm in a way which countered the impact from reaching her at full force. Despite happening in the short space of a few seconds, his movements grew sloppy, and letting her guard down for just a moment resulted in a direct hit to the Chiss' jaw, causing her neck to snap left as blood began to drip from her mouth.

Fueled by rage, a blunt grunt escaped her lungs as she rushed the man throwing him to her left and landing an equally deadly blow to his face, followed by a few more for good measure. While not actually being that injured, the man was stunned at how such a small woman had mustered such strength, and laid hopelessly on the floor.

The woman's eyes looked behind her to see if anyone of importance was there. Nope.

Effortlessly, she began to move towards the hutt now.

"I believe we'll be discussing my payment in blood at this rate."

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla remained transfixed by the scuffle that was ensuing. She was unsure if the Chiss was playing with her opponent, as – despite his size – his pace and abilities suggested he was someone she could and should defeat easily.

His weight may have been an issue, but Lilla figured that a seasoned fighter – and this woman definitely came under that category – would use it against him. Although she had to admit that was easier said than done when the weight was lying on top of you.

Maybe the Chiss was simply conserving energy? But then, a quick end was potentially the best way not to exert herself unduly.

Then the unthinkable happened. It may have been a lucky punch, or the woman may have been distracted – but either way, he landed a punch on her jaw and the ensuing noise and blood suggested it was more than just a glancing blow.

Maybe that energised her, but whatever the reason, the Chiss rained a few good hits on his face. He lay on the floor. Lilla did not think he was unconscious but was clearly stunned and may have chosen to stay down, rather than face more of the same.

If the Hutt had hoped this was going to end well, she was now very much mistaken, as the Chiss gave the loathsome creature her full attention again. And as she did, Lilla took a few steps forward, keen to hear every exchange between the two.

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

"Oh uh-... Mistress Priscilla! You must understand..."

"Do be quiet. We both know you've had it out for me for months."

As she approached the table, the stunned guard looked up, grunting and trying to catch his breath but was unable to move, still shocked at the blows that had been dealt to him.

"Now I'm not one for revenge, I believe we both know that. However, sending your lackeys to rough me up so you can make off with not only my credits, but I would guess an extra few thousand of the attendants credits to pay your pimp or whatever, is not only the height of bad manners but also excruciatingly disrespectful that I almost feel a bit of loathing in my very being."

The Hutt's eyes were closed at this point, holding their arms up and awaiting whatever punishment the Chiss decided was fit for the crime of disrespecting her. Some audible trembles could be heard, muffled and grunting. Her arm raised and was lined up perfectly to hit the scum in their face, though as the fist propelled forward with lightning quick speed, it stopped just as it was going to make contact and Priscilla grunted one more time.

"However I'm not in the mood to ruin my fist punching a ball of fat. Be fortunate that my rifle was confiscated before I entered the arena."

"Th-hank you Mis-..."

A booming sigh of relief escaped its vocal chords, followed by a few simple instructions.

"Don't be too pleased. If you're not dead, you're working for me. I don't feel like hauling these crates to a ship and get 50% of the credits deducted by tax. So, here's what you'll be doing in the next hour: In precisely 15 minutes, those guards will be dead. In 30 minutes, you'll be making a sizable donation to a local shelter. In 45 minutes, any remaining credits not used in the donation will be returned to the patrons who placed their bets."

She almost flashed a grin, but couldn't quite muster the emotional strength to do so.

"Oh and in an hour, you'll be off-planet in a different system. I don't care where. I'm assuming your pimp will be more than happy to accommodate that demand. A pleasure doing business as always."

Priscilla made a 180, looking down in pity at the guard she had toppled while passing [member="Lily"] Syrin. If she wanted to confront her, or simply speak, this would probably be the perfect time; her adrenaline had died down by now and she wasn't looking for another fight after almost having her teeth knocked out.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla observed. It was not the idle curiosity of a bystander but the earnest onlooking of a student. The Chiss was intimidating. But not only with her fighting prowess — any fool could observe that. But that very fool would miss the more subtle signs — the posturing, the language, the tone of voice.

But the thing that Lilla felt she learned most from the woman was her timing. It was impeccable. It was one thing to be able to fight, or back that up with intimidating words. But knowing when to perform each of those instruments she had at her disposal? That was akin to a conductor and her orchestra. To take those individual components and turn them into a symphony. To know hen to use each weapon at your fingers for maximum effect.

The was class, pure class. And Lilla appreciated this and knew she had to learn from it too.

So she drank in the display and had to suppress the desire to clap at the end. And the encore was the fact that the woman ensured that a local shelter benefitted from the situation. It was akin to what Lilla attempted each day — but on a scale that was a thousand times what she managed.

As the woman appeared to have concluded her business, Lilla wondered if she was generally magnanimous, or if she too had once lived in a shelter, and wanted to give back to her roots.

But Lilla knew better than to ask. At least not directly. And yet she did not want the event to pass without in some way intervening…recognising what had just transpired.

“Why?” she asked. It was the thing she most wanted to know and the word spilled from her mouth, unbidden. She thought it and her lips spoke it. Her rational brain never had a chance to get in on the act.

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

The Chiss grunted, turning her head slightly to whatever direction the noise was coming from at this point. "Why? Why do we do anything? To save the ones we love? Unfortunately, I don't have any. To satisfy ourselves? I don't find much satisfaction nowadays. To provide a spectacle for bystanders to watch? Well, I hope you were entertained, if you get your kicks out of fighting."

The two guards began crawling to a nearby table, coughing up thick mucus from their lungs and still being short of breath. Her eyes peered down at her attackers, then back to the hooded figure who had addressed her. "I'm assuming you saw the entire thing then. Report me if you wish, it's unlikely I'll be caught by the incompetents that run the local law enforcement. If you're not here to report me, then we can talk so long as it's nowhere near this cesspit."

Her slender and long legs sat into motion again, heading for the nearest exit. Of course, this by no means meant the conversation was over, but staying at a crime scene was no doubt going to her her identified under her local alias, and going through the process of purchasing a new identification yet again was something so tedious even she didn't want to do it.

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla listened and did her best not to gawp. This woman was assured and had an aura about her that meant you listened — whoever you were. It was an admirable trait, and Lilla suspected the woman would be able to command a presence, even without the use of physical violence.

“I…I wasn’t entertained exactly. Fighting leaves me cold. I mean, I can appreciate the art of a good move, but the actual fight itself? It does nothing for me, trust me.”

“And no, I won’t report you…of course not. And yes, I’d like to talk. To understand you and your motives. Which might make me seem a little weird, which I’m not. Well, not precisely. We’re all a little odd after all, aren’t we?”

“No, I just want to know why you acted selflessly when you clearly did not have to. I have similar motives but cannot command anywhere near the impact you managed just then.”

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

"Well..." she started to question exactly why she had did what she just did, other than to get some revenge on the Hutt, she paused and looked at the woman awkwardly, gazing to several other directions before opening her mouth. "Some rich people don't deserve to be... rich?" Her eyes looked down once more and her lip wobbled with uncoordinated. "Uh and... sorry I'm not used to speaking to people without threatening them in the process."

The woman's composure waned, her body language appearing more and more sheltered as her once confident stature suddenly became smaller, both physically and emotionally. She didn't really have that many friends, so she was lacking in the social graces to say the least.

"I suppose I commanded the impact while feigning my confidence. The trick isn't to be confident, it's to pretend to be confident. At the end of the day, you just do something if you feel like it's the right thing to do." Her voice appeared to be more caring, losing its slightly monotonous reverb.

"That's what I read in a book anyway." Returning once more to its tedious note.

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla listened. The woman’s words resonated with her, on many levels.

For a start there was a visible persona and a private variance. Lilla had been trained to put on an act when in company – often portraying a public appearance entirely at odds with what she thought and who she was.

She nodded by way of reassurance and agreement. Many people did not deserve what they had – either for good or for bad. Wealth typically gravitated towards power and the latter was rarely in the hands of those with even the faintest of moral compasses. Happy endings were the stuff of fairy tales, not real life.

“And don’t worry, I’ll not be offended if you don’t threaten me,” Lilla said, smiling. “In fact, I’d rather appreciate it.” It was a phrase used to hopefully put the other woman at ease – but there was a ring of truth about it. Lilla did find the woman intimidating and knew she was no match for her in a fight – despite all of her training.

“And masks come in many guises,” said Lilla sagely. “So one that tells the outside world you’re confident is not a bad thing. Not by any margin.”

“And that was a decent book, by any measure,” Lilla concluded. “I’d say the author knew what they were talking about. Definitely.”

“Anyhow, tell me more about those that don’t deserve to be rich. How do you find them, and how do you deal with them?”

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

Priscilla was surprised that this woman was still interested in conversing with her, her eyebrows raised slightly before she opened her mouth once more. "Well, before I was a borderline contract killer I used to be a secretary. Sucking up to karkheads who decide what your paycheck is at the end of the month gets you a lot of connections - good and bad. After that it comes down to whether or not they're willing to change and whether I can be bothered in hunting them dow-.." she held her breath for a second, realizing the insanity that she was pursuing; making a friend.

"Sorry, I never did quite catch your name...?" squinting her eyes before continuing to pursue her idelogy.

She thought into her head for a second and couldn't help but chuckling, that book doesn't actually exist. Nevertheless, if [member="Lilla Syrin"] was looking for a partnership, she was probably eyeing in the right direction at this rate. "I don't really do this solo work much anymore. I've done a few odd jobs for the latest incarnation of bureacracy, the Republic, and some weird group that said they were an old eye. Can't quite remember who they were."

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla listened and learned. In truth, you could learn from anyone and everyone, but sometimes more from some folk and less from others. This woman was a veritable library of information — not just the facts and connections she had — and Lilla was sure they were plentiful. No, Lilla was primarily learning behaviours and attitude.

You didn’t get to where this woman was by accident, or even good fortune. And from such humble beginnings? Lilla saw this as affirmation that she too could do good on a grander scale than she had in the past — if she just believed in herself, and maybe took a few more risks.

“I’m Lilla by the way,” she said, “and that was quite a jump — from secretary to assassin. I mean, did you wake up one morning and decide a change was on the cards? And if so, why assassin? And what training did you receive?”

Lilla paused. “Sorry for all the questions, but it’s not often you get the chance to speak to someone like you. A role model.”

[member="Priscilla Utorna"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

"A-A role model?" if it was visible, she would be blushing, though she managed to supress it after a few seconds. Seeing the woman's age - looking a lot younger than Priscilla, - she felt the need to intervene. "Let's get one thing straight; I may kill people for what some may call 'good reasons' but at the end of the day I kill people. I'm not good."

She swallowed some saliva, still stunned that anybody would want to look up to a murderer. Perhaps her disease hadn't made her that crazy that she thought what she was doing was normal. For a moment, she forgot about whatever question her new companion had asked her, but backtracked in her mind to remind herself. "It's complicated. I have a disease. It makes me seem so boring and plain all of the time. It gets worst over time, apparently my mother had it and its passed on genetically or you can contract it, though it'll take a really long time if you got it the latter way. To sum it up, it'll turn me into a sociopath when it's in its final stages. My family wanted me to go to some special center for people like me, but I ran away, changed my identity. The whole shibang really."

Pausing for a moment, she made a reassurance to the woman, "Don't worry. You can't contract it unless someone performs open brain surgery on you and they have it."

[member="Lilla Syrin"]