Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Monster In The Sewers

The Borrower

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T


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Lights flung to and fro. The dripping of leaky pipes and the rusty round corridors were disgusting. Mildew coated the metal frames like moss, and the stench of waste clouded the air. The sloshing of boots was a sound that could make one puke. Fortunately for the two souls walking through, they were wearing air filters.

<"I don't need to smell to know this place reeks of bantha poodoo!"> One growled as they waded through knee high liquid.

<"What the kark. I hate using the kriffing sewers to escape the law enforcement, the karabasters.">

The flashlights continued to faintly show where they were. As they turned a corner, one of the men paused at a strange echo.

<"Oi, Kolbi, did you hear that?">

<"Hear what?">

It was then that Kolbi detected the faint sounds of... was that crying?

<"Kark, there's someone down here too!"> Kolbi groaned.

<"I think that's a gal."> The sharp hearer pointed out, <"A crying one at that. Think our luck just changed, Kolbi.">

It was difficult to figure out just where the noises were echoing from, but the two outlaws kept an eye on their holographic map as they followed to the best of their abilities.

<"Black market trade, hostage, stick up, who cares? We might actually make some credits today!">

Eventually, they rounded a faintly lit corner. About halfway through through hallway, they saw a scrawny woman leaning against a wall, hunkered.

<"Er,"> the disturbed Kolbi took a step back, <"Dunno about this, Mike.">

Mike rolled his eyes, <"You get scared over nothing!">

He lifted his flashlight and shone it towards the girl, forcing light into her eyes. The redhead was skin and bones. How long had she been down here? She recoiled from the light, moaning in fear as she turned her back on the two, still hunkered.

Mike smirked, pulling a blaster from his belt, <"This'll be too easy!">

The sound of the blaster clicking caused the girl to sharply turn back towards the group. Mouth gaping open, foaming, she shakily looked at the pistol with fear and rage.

Kolbi reached for Mike suddenly, <"Kolbi, I-">

A sudden screech blasted through the long sewer system. Followed by the sounds of claws, teeth, screaming, then silence.

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The cases of disappearing folk were becoming more and more common. Criminals were being forced to find alternative escape routes to the Denon sewer system beneath the forty sixth sector. Citizens above ground, mostly parents taking blasters to the sewers to take care of whatever aye the family pet, also fell victim to whatever was in there. Local law enforcement would sent patrols, but the first two did not make it. Then the third finally had survivors, which reported a horrid monster within the pipelines. From there on out, the marshals were called in. They survived the encounters with the beasts, but they recognized that this was something too big for them to handle.

Meanwhile, the monster in the sewers became an urban legend to the locals. Everyone kept their pets and even children away from every hydrant and manhole. People were becoming wary to even use the refresher. Law enforcement tried to sell the story that they had things under control, but blood trails of tooka prey leading to the sewers proved otherwise. This was getting out of hand.

Law enforcement noticed that cases of the beast involved stalking pets, and that people were only attacked if they provoked the thing. Still, this was a deep and dangerous threat. Force Sensitive children reported having nightmares and feeling disturbed, cold, and scared.

After three months of struggle in the forty sixth sector, a Jedi was finally called in...

Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
This was usually Dagon's 'turf' as it were. But for whatever reason the Watchman of Denon was not around to receive the call from the local Marshals. Coincidentally, Aaran was on Denon, mostly doing his own snooping, his own ambling around and laying some groundwork of his own, Planting seeds that would hopefully bloom into something more, something that could bring more of a net positive to the common folk of this world.

It wasn't long before he heard the rumours of disappearing folks, signs asking for the return of missing pets and some auspicious meetings with Force Sensitive children that involved copious amounts of Force tricks and various bribes of candy before they would open up about their nightmares.

It was only after his third conjuring of illusionary animals did he get a more concrete picture. And one quick change into more appropriate sewer spelunking gear later, waterproofed pantsthat were tucked into boots, sunglasses replacing bandages, his hair pulled tightly back and the traditional leather jacket of his order zipped up over his shirt, a sealed pack of what he believed to be necessary supplies strapped to his back. He descended into the foul depths. With the first real hurdle of his journey being dealing with that truly impressive stench that came from the sewers of a planet-wide city.

He didn't need maps, he did not need lights. Such things were of little use to a blind man. He was already more perceptive of the world around him than most could hope to ever be. If he wanted to leave the sewers, he would simply let the Force guide his steps, and conversely if he wanted to go deeper, he simply needed to follow the trail that had been left for him.

It didn't take long for the lingering echoes of fear to reach him. Some of them fresher than others, some of them more complex than an animal. But most of them were similar in nature. The primal fear of running from a predator, of attempting to scrabble away from something dark and terrifying. But underneath that, there was a deeper layer of fear.

The desire for safety, the lashing out in confusion and hurt. Terror of the unknown. All very different types of fear across a broad spectrum.

Was it some kind of animal? An escaped experiment of one of the Corps? That did seem likely considering the rather impressive lack of ethics that many of Denon's ruling elite held. They'd be more annoyed at the loss of an investment and a depletion of the workforce than they were about the loss of lives.

His suspicion was debunked the further he got in. On the edges of his senses he could feel something. Something dark, something attuned to the Force. But whatever it was, it was good enough at hiding that it was rather difficult to pinpoint, even to his senses.

So that meant he needed to lure it out. And if his suspicions were correct. Whatever this was, it was food motivated and relatively unafraid of lone individuals.

So, he made a show of letting out a dramatic sigh. "Welp, I have no idea where I am." He mused aloud, before moving to sit on a relatively clean corner of a pipe, hand reaching towards the pack on his back to pull out........ a burger?

A King Bacon Bantha Burger to be exact. Heavily processed meat and cheese wrapped in a bun and covered with sauce. Extremely unhealthy for you, but very, very pungent.

And so he simply sat there and waited, taking small slow bites of his food, all the while slowly rotating his free hand, subtly moving the air around him with the Force in order to have the tantalising scent of cooked meat slowly circulate through the sewers around him.

The Borrower
 

The Borrower

Guest
T


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Survive.

Survive.

Wandering.

Stench.

Darkness.

Turmoil.

Bad memories.

Blackouts.

How did she come here?

Fear.

Fear of others.

They wanted to hurt her.

Kill her.

Torture her.

So she retaliated.

Hungry.

Yes. Hungry.

Food?

Stray felines in the streets above.

Food.

Still hungry.

Still searching.

Still scared.

Still confused.

Still dark.

Still surviving. Barely.

In the pungent waters of the sewers, the swimming soul was coated in grime and gunk. She had grown desensitized to the smell, and unaware of the filth she regularly was drenched in. She had no idea still, how she escaped her masters. Her tormentors. She had no idea how she got here. She did not know light anymore, so used to the darkness. Ripples in the water made her slow, steady swim known. Sewer rats, adapted to being hunted by this feral, skirted away in a rush. She breathed in and out, slowly swimming. She looked up to the direction the rats skidded off to, her stomach aching in starvation. She had not eaten in... a long time...

She looked hopelessly back down the pitch black sewer system. She swam more, ever fearful and ever suffering. She was struggling to breathe lately. Her head ached, her nose ran, and her eyes were puffy. Her chest felt heavy and congested. Was she sick? Did it matter? She was scratching and clawing, clinging to life. But what was she even fighting for, when agony and hate were all she knew?

In the distance, a faint scent far different than the base stink drifted about. What... was that? It smelled... positive. It was an aroma nothing like anything else she had smelled before. It smelled... like slop, grub, food. But something far better. The cramps of hunger drove her to swim, slow due to her low energy levels, towards the food. Eventually, she heard the sounds of chewing in the distance. Someone... already caught the food? Her stomach roared in desperation, echoing through the sewers. She - she had to try! With mucus dripping out her nose, and slobber dripping out her mouth, the disgusting figure crept to where she visibly saw the shadow of person, eating the food.

The monster in the sewers was careful and paranoid. Skiddish like a tooka, she carefully approached the figure. A thin, pale near-human face was pathetic and frail. Her eyes were empty like a void of space. She was horrifically thin and staggered. She lifted her shoulders up from the water. Brown liquid splattered into the pools below as she audibly sniffed at the food, practically glaring as if threatening it would make it fly into her mouth. She reeked, a horrendous smell which was abominable. Her Force Signature screamed of her her physical and mental state were, bone thin and deteriorating even more. The fear was extending out in shockwaves, as well as the desperation.

She seldom spoke, but in this instance... well... she hardly ever attacked unless she was killing animal prey or was being threatened and attacked herself. Here, however, she was on her last leg. If she could not eat, she would pry the food out of this soul's hand. She did not want to attack, but she was dying of hunger. And so, she parted her lips. She was wheezing in sickness, and her vocal chords were cracking from lack of use. And yet, her dry vocal chords eventually gained volume, and she was able to rasp two parched words.

"Give food."

Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
"Give food."

The shape around his eyes visibly softened as he saw this creature pull itself out of the filth. Now that they were closer, he could get a much better picture of them. Humanoid, young, female, extremely malnourished. Almost impossibly so. It would be impressive that they had the strength of will to drag themselves towards a stranger and demand nourishment were it not so tragic.

And if his senses were correct, which they usually were, this creature was very, very ill. No doubt constant exposure to the filth around her had her catch a medley of diseases. He was fairly certain that the only thing that kept her figuratively standing was that terror inside her fueling the Force to keep her alive.

Scared, alone, desperate and wanting more. A classic recipe for the Dark Side. Another reason why he needed to reach out to this poor creature. Not that the sight of a starving child was enough reason already to help. Although he couldn't help but feel that coaxing her into a Refresher Booth was going to be an ordeal in itself.

So baby steps would be needed. And that started with the building of trust. "You can have." He said gently, holding out his palm whereupon rested the large burger, only missing a few small bites. While not the most nutritious of meals, it was good for satisfying the immediate hunger pangs. The rich taste would no doubt cause a surge of dopamine to surge through the body, associating Aaran with good and this food with good times.

He'd give her something more calorie dense once they got past the initial introductions.

Focusing outwards, he allowed the Force to flow through him, carrying his feelings of warmth, of concern, of care from him through he air, as the Burger would float from his palm and begin to gently drift towards the small, scared creature that had just burst out of the muck. Doing his damndest to radiate enough positivity to make it clear to even the most empathically impaired of individuals that he was no threat, that he was here to help.

The whole telekinesis trick was simply to ensure he didnt get too close and cause her to lash out at him. And once the food was delivered, he would reach back into the pack on his back and pull out a simple plastic bottle of water that was gently slid to the halfway point between the two.

"Drink?"

The Borrower
 

The Borrower

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She was... given the food. Freely. She would not question this kindness as she swiped the food out of his hands. Hunkering like an animal, she devoured the scraps of burger in an instant, not even processing how it tasted until a couple seconds after it had been swallowed whole like a snake. She paused, eyes widening in awe.

"It's... pleasant!"

Anything she had ever eaten had been "gifted" by the Maw or a creature she caught herself. Food was something eaten out of need, but usually tasting gross and nasty. Eating something and it being physically good was a completely foreign to her. She smacked her lips together with slow and deliberate thought, a tiny spark of something aside misery in her life.

When offered water, she looked up in confusion. Unlike food, which was scarce here, water was aplenty here. She was still half submerged in it. Still, it was in her nature to take. So, she reached and clutched the water away from him, drinking it. Much to her surprise, there was a difference. Was this even water? It was... uncontaminated and... plain. It was... more refreshing than a barrel full of the Maw's water or a bucket of this sewer sludge. She threw the plastic bottle away, into the sewage she had immerged from. Alas for her lack of knowledge that littering was bad. She was so used to filth, here and everywhere else, that she did not question it. She spent her entire existence in the bottom of the pits.

She looked back up to the person before her and blinked. This guy. She... tolerated him for what he could offer. The concept of him being a threat to her survival was melting away, though fear of abuse was still alive in her heart. She looked up at him from the pools, then reached and opened her hand. She ordered, "More food."

How grateful of her.

She kept her disgustingly coated limp held out, greed and emptiness in her eyes. She only knew this and nothing more. She did not know any better...

Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
What a pitiful creature.

It was hard not to feel sympathy for such a sight. Even when one took the physical state the poor creature was in, the sheer desperation he could feel coming off her in waves was enough to drive a less composed man to tears. Who could have left this poor girl here? What could have driven her to such a state?

It seemed she was feral, but if it was due to not being raised properly, or a mental regression due to trauma, he could not tell. And as she rapidly consumed the small meal he had supplied her with, his more extraordinary senses probed deeper into her psyche. A mear peek inside the metaphorical window, not wanting to risk any deeper dive dredging up any bad memories.

A cursory glance didn't give him much aside from the knowledge of a history of abuse. Something that he could already ascertain from his initial glance at her. But who it was that hurt her, he could not tell. He couldn't find any names or faces he recognised. At least not from his brief glance into her mind.

"More food."

A slight huff of amusement escaped him as his food was already demolished in short order. Slowly, so he wouldn't startle the clearly terrified creature, he reached into his bag and pulled out another small package. Nothing particularly fancy, just a protein bar, something he'd eat on occasion after exercising. A far more nutrient dense snack than the burger, if perhaps not as tasty.

He placed the wrapped bar down on the ground, closer to him now, close enough that if this girl wanted her meal. She would have to get out of the water in order to claim her prize. A calculated gambit on Aaran's part, would help her overcome her fear of strangers.

"Have more food if you want." He offered, still smiling gently, not allowing any teeth to show, just in case such an act would be taken as a sign of aggression. Yet none could be sensed from the man. The tiniest microexpressions that would showcase hostile intent or harm would simply not be present. So calm, so peaceful was the aura he was exuding, were he in a woodland area, you could nearly imagine a bird would land on his outstretched hand.

"Do you have a name, little one?"

The Borrower
 

The Borrower

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T


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The girl did not question the food, just took it. Her guard was probably the most lowered it had been in her entire life. She pulled herself out of the water. Sewage fell in liquid and clumps off oh her scrawny body as she reached out and started eating. As she devoured the food, sniffling her stuffy nose, she paused at a question that came out of left field.

Her… name?

The girl blinked, looking back at all her memories. She had always been called a Borrower, no name or even numerical recognition given to her. She was just… herself. She blinked, looking up to the calm Jedi with a blank and confused expression.

"I have no name."

She finished off every crumb and just sort of… paused. Why was this person helping her? Who was he? She tilted her head. She had a feeling… he was not a threat. But he was approaching her, speaking with her. Who was she to him? Did he think her powers would be useful to him? Why would he help her? She sat down in front of the man. She needed answers.

"Why help me? What' 'you want?"

Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo

 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
No name huh? That's somewhat depressing. Sure the Jedi understood that one's identity was ultimately an illusion. But just because it was an illusion didn't mean it wasn't a necessary one for getting through day to day life. Forging an identity for oneself was an important part in development. It was a good thing to try and somewhat assert yourself in the universe and try to make an impact, it taught one such much about themselves and about life in general.

His working theory of the poor thing being some kind of corpo project that escaped only grew as he considered the circumstances. The Force did seem strong with this one, were they experimenting with Force Sensitives? That never ended well, the Cosmic Energy Field that bound everything together rarely acted well to those trying to exploit it.

Turns out it was actually rather difficult to pull a fast one on the literal force of Destiny and Fate itself. He could investigate her origins once he got her somewhere secure, as well as more food, a few minutes in the refresher and some new clothes.

As for the lacking of a name? Well. he'd have to help her get a better grasp of who she was first before she could pick one for herself. It wasn't like she was the first stray a Jedi picked up. The unsettlingly strong echo of the Dark Side within her notwithstanding. A scared and hungry child would naturally start calling on something very easy and seductive in order to feel safe. Hell, half the former Acolytes his order picked up during the Imperial Civil war were just scared kids themselves. Only really so gung ho on the Sith philosophy because they were brainwashed into thinking you had to be the most ruthless and cruel bastard around in order to survive and thrive.

"Why help me? What' 'you want?"

At that, his head tilted slightly, smile growing, but still not showing teeth or anything that could be considered a form of aggression. Instead he allowed himself to open up further and further to her, blurring the minds between his intent and her awareness.

"I want to help."

He allowed his feelings to be read like an open book, not that he usually felt the need to hide such things. To him, the reaction was natural. See scared child? Offer comfort. A basic reaction that sprung from a natural sense of empathy, an upbringing that fostered a strong sense of community and then rigorous training in a monastic order that held the sanctity of life as one of its highest ideals.

It was probably something utterly alien. Compassion and altruism weren't exactly something that the humanoid mind came preprogrammed with. One's basic instincts tended to lean towards one's own survival and the survival of the in-group. One does not offer precious resources to strangers in order to survive.

But here he was doing so, offering out a hand to her, leaving himself vulnerable if she so desired to attack him. "If you want, I can take you somewhere safer. With more food as well."

"After that, you can either stick with me or go your own way. But I think I can help you if you’ll let me."


The Borrower
 

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