The Only Way Out Is Through

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu was a study in dichotomies. Raised in relative luxury and with loving, kind parents, she had never known hardship. Pain beyond a scraped knee or a sprained finger was foreign to her. She made friends easily – she was disgustingly charming and had always been a pretty child, one that had flowered in to a beautiful woman. But despite the path that should have nurtured her to a prominent position in a family full of tradition…it just hadn’t gone that way. It was her choice. She was too cruel, too strangely and naturally predatory to follow in the same footsteps as her parents before her. She hunted.

She struck out on her own, bargaining passage on freighter after freighter, visiting worlds at random and with no intent in mind. She learned where she could, accepting lessons in combat, engineering, and even…the Force. She had always credited her fortune to luck but as time passed and she met more beings she learned that her “luck” was actually a gift far more incredible.

But that was where it remained, her skills in the Force powerful but rudimentary. All she could do had been learned on her own and she assumed there were those out there who could help her channel her skills, though she was yet to find them. All in good time – she felt in no rush. Like a snake basking in the afternoon sun Matsu was unhurried. Something to be cautious of, but otherwise yes…unhurried.

She walked through the bazaar on Ryloth as if she had grown up among its dusty streets and crowded atmosphere. She was at home in the chaos, felt she could just as easily disappear as (blow this street to pieces, destroy them, lay waste and never look back like the flood, like the beast, like the natural force of balance, you’re made to destroy) make something of herself. She flipped up on to a crumbling wall, walking alternately on her hands and then back to her feet in some exercise to keep herself fit. It was an obsession.

It was then she spotted the Bothan, although she didn’t know that’s what the species was called. She had never seen the like and was intrigued. Her path along the wall was bringing her close to him and when she was even she flipped off her hands and took a seat on the wall, crossing her legs primly and resting her chin delicately on a folded hand, sharply pointed nails glinting in the harsh Ryloth sun. “That’s a handsome mane you’ve got, stranger,” she offered, her voice like honey with an underlying rasp.

[member="Varesk Fey'lya"]

 

[Malok]

The Tale of Verask the Grey was one devoid of the love and affection known intimately by so many throughout the stars. From the moment of his conception, the Bothan's path was all but set. Born within a landscape of political upheaval and change, Verask had no choice but to forgo the longings of the heart in place for picking up the metaphorical dagger. With this tool of deceit...this weapon of lies...he would weave into the world of shadows and adopt names that were leagues away from being his own. He would infiltrate and swindle, all for the sake of amassing information that could be used by his clan and people. Verask was nothing short of a tool; an instrument for the Bothan Way...and that continued even to this day. As an agent, he had amassed a wide variety of skills; most of which regarding subterfuge, misdirection, and other tricks that came with the life of a spy. However, what the Bothan severely lacked was the honing of the most powerful weapon in his arsenal: the Force.

In light of the reinstatement of the Ar'krai: a genocidal war undertaken by the Bothan race against the Yuuzhan Vong, Verask had to change this grievous lack. To this end, he reached out to two organizations, the Silver Jedi and Templar Order respectively, with the hopes of growing strong in the Force. This day in particular, the Bothan found himself only a stone's throw away from the Templar Sanctum located on Ryloth, for he thought it proper to take a break from his relentless studies in order to procure sustenance. Being that he was several times the elder of most of the Templars, Verask could get away with taking a break whenever he so pleased...but was also wise enough to know that constant stagnation was not productive in terms of study. As such, with a light lunch in mind, the modestly-cloathed Bothan strolled about the Bazaar, stopping every now and then to inspect various stalls of fruit. Upon settling on a fresh, crimson apple, he paid the presiding Twi'lek the total due and gave a thankful nod.

Then, before he could even raise the fruit to indulge in its sweet, succulent flavor, a voice called out to him from above. 'Twas young and obviously female. Turning, Verask looked to the source of the honied tone and saw a rather attractive human seated upon the wall; as if she had not a care in the world. With no obvious ladder or steps, he wagered that she had simply climbed up the wall in a feat of athleticism, a fact that caused a small smile to grace his lips. Ah, how he envied her youth and they days of old when he, too, could do such things. Of course, the Bothan was not without manners and bowed his head out of respect and greetings. "You do me a great honor with your words." he began, righting himself. "And you, young lady, are quite..." he said with a pause, mulling over the right word. "Radiant...Ah, but where are my manners! My name is Verask, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Yet another pause and the Bothan briefly turned away from the young woman, returning his attention the Twi'lek once more. Offering the same payment, he then selected a second apple and returned his gaze to the young woman, holding it aloft with a smile. "Come, share an apple with me."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She smiled when he turned to her and nodded his head, a sunshine sickle of white teeth and red lips. He was older than she had expected at first glance but it didn’t much matter to her. A being was a being, and a lengthy time in the world hardly made a whit’s difference to her. If anything she was even more intrigued. He must know a great deal of things and what was her quest through the Galaxy if not to learn (consume, devour, destroy)?

The girl returned the nod, taking a shine to @Varesk Fey’lya almost immediately – strange, she wasn’t used to that. “I don’t say things that I don’t mean,” she replied, letting out a quiet hum-like laugh through closed lips when he seemed to consider a choice of words to use to describe her. “The pleasure is mine I’m sure, Varesk – I am Matsu Xiangu,” she offered in return, her last name rolling wicked-slick off her tongue.

Her eyes stayed on him when he turned back to the stall, watched him select an apple bright and sanguine. When he turned back to her with the fruit proffered in her direction she tilted her head at him, blinking in a reptilian impression. However it was quickly replaced by another smile – this one warm and delighted when he invited her down. She leapt, instinct letting her land lightly (and perhaps the hand of the Force she was yet to understand in herself beyond that it was there), taking the apple in thin, delicate fingers. “Thank you,” she said quietly, the rumble in her stomach soft but about to be quenched by his kindness.

They walked, the dirt warm enough to be felt through the soles of her shoes. Pleasant, like his company. Her nails bit in to the flesh of the apple as she raised it to her mouth, taking a bite and running her thumb over the hole left behind in one swift motion so the juice wouldn’t drip down her wrist. Apples were one of her favorites though Varesk couldn’t have known. She turned her head to look at them as they moseyed, unhurried. “What species are you?” she asked, brash. She meant it in the most innocent way possible (Matsu, innocent!), her face open and curious.