Private The Right Hand and the Left

[Eloise Dinn]

He didn't even have to hypnotize the boy into trusting him. He was already enamored with the idea of an Anzat mentor who had somehow resisted temptation, his desire to believe in the lie so strong it overrode all sense of caution.

Anton permitted himself a gentle smile as he stepped forward, resting his hands on the young man's shoulders. <All the same. You're lucky you found me.>

I will devour you from the inside out.

<I don't know,> Dio answered uneasily. <Just how old are you? I'm only eighteen, but it's so hard. The compulsions keep getting stronger.>

<You're only a child,> he said, brow furrowing in genuine confusion. It wasn't normal for an Anzat to experience the hunger with such intensity at so young an age. <Or you should be. It comes after the first century, with the onset of puberty. Yet you have already passed that milestone…> It wasn't unheard of for hybrids to mature at a faster rate.

For a moment Anton almost felt something, the boy's sad predicament tugging on his shredded heartstrings. But the feeling soon faded. <Is your family not with you?> he asked, keeping up the facade of care even as he sought to learn more about what he was dealing with. <To tell the truth, I don't remember my age. The years have all blurred together…>

---

"When I was a Jedi, I fell in love with a man named Silas Westgard," Thelma said after a long silence. "We were going to get married. I even offered to turn him into a vampire—which seems so hopelessly naïve to me now, though he seemed open to the possibility. But one day, when we were talking about the future, he said 'maybe we shouldn't have children if they'll turn out like you'."

For once, Eloise said nothing. She remembered Silas, though she never really knew him. She could imagine him saying those words to Thelma. How it would feel for Diogo to hear what she'd been thinking only a moment ago.

"Later, after I left the Order, he sought me out. He told me he still loved me, that he wanted to be with me." She faltered, losing herself in memory. "But he would've had to give up so much on my behalf. His career as a Jedi, his future, his humanity. I couldn't let him do it. I loved him too much to take all that away from him."

"Isn't there more to love than having babies?" Eloise muttered. But what Thelma had said resonated with her. She would have to make sacrifices for Diogo, provided he didn't pull a Thelma and start acting all selfless. That fact had gotten lost in the shuffle until now, amid all the smooching and saving each other's lives. Not that stuff didn't matter, it just… wasn't what love was really about. “So Silas just let you go?”

“I told him to go. In the end, it was my decision.” Thelma rested her hands on her lap. “I’ve never told anyone about this before.”

“Me neither.” Eloise snorted. “Forget the dress. I want to commission something for Dio…”

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

The danger of proximity was lost on Dio. Anton's touch reflected his voice—nurturing, reassuring, and protective. The boy practically leaned into it, his eyes wide as he looked up.

Hope had rarely felt so tangible, so living and breathing. The next part felt like a garrote around his throat.

<You're only a child, or you should be. It comes after the first century, with the onset of puberty. Yet you have already passed that milestone…>

"What does that mean?" Dio's words slipped out. He searched Anton's pale face. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Why was he different? Did it have something to do with his parents? The thought surfaced unexpectedly, yet his mind anchored to it. They were always so secretive, his poor mom even more so after what happened... Maybe he owed home a visit.

<Is your family not with you?>

"No... my father is gone," he said, continuing to speak aloud. "He succumbed a long time ago. My mother's on Niamos. She's not one of us, though. I don't see her much. I'm busy, uh, being a Jedi and stuff."

<To tell the truth, I don't remember my age. The years have all blurred together…>

"Is that... normal? Do we live for so long we forget our own memories?" His mind drifted to Eloise, the terribly mortal love of his life, and all the memories he wanted to make with her. If he couldn't keep her, he at least wanted to keep them.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"What does that mean? Is there something wrong with me?"

He had stopped using telepathy, instead speaking out loud. Anton took it as a sign that he had completely gained the boy’s trust, ensnaring him with his own desire, causing him to forego secrecy.

“I wouldn’t say it’s wrong,” the Master of Cerements replied gently. “You are… different. Your mother was not one of us, as you say, and that changes things. You may find the compulsion to feed harder to resist. Or perhaps you will get used to fighting it from a younger age.”

"No... my father is gone. He succumbed a long time ago. My mother's on Niamos. She's not one of us, though. I don't see her much. I'm busy, uh, being a Jedi and stuff."

“A Jedi?” Anton’s appetite was piqued, his proboscises twitching deep in his cheeks. He pointed a finger at the door. “Is your friend a Jedi too?”

The Jedi tended to look after their own. The disappearance of one would be followed up on. But if he could erase all trace of their ever having been here…

He’d have to kill them all. Then again, if Thelma wasn’t going to be of use to him, it wasn’t like he needed her alive. All three were Force Sensitive, too. The most succulent soup there was.

It occurred to him that he was about to have one of, if not the best meal of his life. All he had to do was be smart about it, and he could have it all.

"Is that... normal? Do we live for so long we forget our own memories?"

“Dear boy, we live forever,” Anton answered with a smile. “The first of us were old when the stars were young.”

As he spoke, he reached down to a pouch at his belt. It was too small to hold a weapon, and indeed, whatever he grabbed from inside fit between two pinched fingers.

“I think we should continue this conversation later, before your friends get restless. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It was powder which he held, a pinch of white dust that went airborne when he snapped his fingers. A little manipulation of the particles with the Force had them moving toward Dio’s face, to be absorbed through the skin, the eyes, the nose and mouth. To put him to sleep…

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

“A Jedi? Is your friend a Jedi too?”

"Eloise? Yeah," Dio confirmed. His gaze was soft. "She's a much better Jedi than me."

“I think we should continue this conversation later, before your friends get restless. Wouldn’t you agree?”

"Oh, right." So caught up in the moment, Dio had all but dissociated. Now that he was thinking about it, it was strange Eloise and Thelma hadn't come to check on them. They were probably just hitting it off. So then why did an uneasy feeling rupture in his gut? "Let's go," he said uneasily.

Diogo spun swiftly, but not fast enough. A faint tickle scratched his nose, followed by his throat. A small cough choked out. Then another.

The last thing Dio remembered was reaching for the doorknob, half-turning it, suddenly struck by how he couldn't feel its cold metal, smooth in his palm. His legs caved in under him, he thumped against the wooden door, and the world slipped away.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise was growing concerned. "I'm going to check on them," she said, walking over to the door. But before she could touch the handle, it turned on its own. Diogo’s weight pushed the door open as he collapsed at her feet.

Eloise stared at her boyfriend’s body in shock, then looked up at Anton Crowley standing over him. Their eyes met. Anton’s lips curled in a smirk, telling her all she needed to know. Eloise bared her teeth in a snarl, lightsaber igniting in one hand, the Force gathering in her other—

Her body was thrown backwards across the room, Anton using telekinesis to toss her aside like she was nothing. She had just enough time to soften the impact before she was slammed into the wall, knocking over a shelf. Her lightsaber went flying, the blade deactivating as she lost her grip.

Anton was suddenly looming over her, his shape completely filling her field of vision, his power holding her in place. What she now realized had been a false aura slipped away like a mask, revealing the terrible truth underneath. Unfathomable darkness, his hunger a black hole threatening to consume everything around him.

“Stop your thrashing,” he said. The force pinning her in place increased, preventing her from struggling. Eloise screamed in anger, fighting harder than ever, until she felt an invisible hand close around her throat.

Right when darkness threatened to cloud her vision, he released his hold. She gasped and coughed. Between panting breaths, she looked around blearily for Thelma. She could no longer sense the little vampiress' presence. Had she gone to get help? Or had she fled, leaving them here to be devoured?

Anton seemed to have noticed her disappearance too. He scowled, then turned his attention to Diogo, dragging the boy’s body until he was sat up beside Eloise, his arms and legs bound in a similar fashion. “What did you do to him?” she rasped.

“Zombie powder,” he answered, still speaking in that same refined accent. “It causes the body to appear dead for a time. Long enough to be buried alive, in the old days.” He crouched down in front of Dio. “But I don’t want to wait. Wake up.”

The Force crackled as he forced Diogo back to consciousness.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Consciousness returned like a thunder clap. Dio jolted awake as he blinked back the caliginous stupor.

Black cornered the edges of his vision. His field of view was blurred, gradually sharpening as Anton's pale face came into focus. The gentle sweetness in the elder Anzat's eyes was gone, replaced with malice and hunger. Darkness seeped out of every pore.

"Anton...?" Dio asked groggily, his speech was thick and slurred. "What's going on?"

He felt like a dead man, his body sapped of strength. Eloise was slumped beside him. "El?" he groaned. She was battered, already bruising, her breaths heavy and ragged. Thelma was nowhere to be seen.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Diogo stirred, though he remained paralyzed by the powder. Anton reached down and grabbed a handful of the boy’s green hair, holding his lolling head upright. “I’m afraid I’m not the man you thought I was, dear boy,” he said. “I’m not who anyone thinks I am. I live a lie—but I eat good.”

Thelma’s disappearance was cause for alarm, but now that he had two Force Users in his grasp, the Anzat could no longer control his appetite. His awareness of everything else faded into the background as the narrow slits on either side of his nose flared and his proboscises slithered out. They didn’t hang down limply; they twisted and writhed as if they had a mind of their own, tiny openings like little sucking mouths quivering at their tips.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Anton turned Diogo’s face toward Eloise, reaching out with his other hand to grasp her face. She gnashed her teeth, trying to bite him, only for him to slam her head against the wall with telekinesis. He took her by the throat as she grimaced in pain from the blow, forcibly tilting her head back. “I want you to watch. I want you to know.”

For all her ferocity, tears were streaming down Eloise's cheeks. She screamed for help again, though it was a cry of terror more than defiance, devolving into a choked whimper as his grip around her throat tightened.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

"Eat my ass," Dio muttered angrily.

Anton's eyes brimmed with unrestrained hunger. He was ravenous, borderline euphoric. Anton grabbed Dio by his scruffy hair, yanking his head like a rag doll. The elder Anzat's proboscises slithered forth, twisting and writhing. He forced the boy to watch as he played with his food. Eloise was violently resisting in vain, ferocious in her wounding screams. Anton vengefully slammed her head against the wall, and wrapped his pale claws around her throat.

"You bastard," Dio hissed, his voice was sharp, laced with venom. His strength was steadily returning, Anzati healing abilities flushing the zombie powder from his system. Still struggling, he watched in horror as Anton tightened his grip around Eloise's throat, forcing her screams to became choked sobs that tore his heart asunder.

Dio needed to protect her, to save her, to comfort her. "El..." he said, voice breaking.

Then something inside him broke, became unstrained. A torrent of unbridled anger unleashed, an insatiable craving to carve Anton's existence from the world, slough him away like rotten flesh, with fire and fury. The Force thrummed in his muscles, his proboscises burst forth, and his restraints snapped.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Anton ignored Diogo’s insults, completely focused on his meal. His proboscisces positioned themselves in front of Eloise’s face, sliding into her nose.

She was fighting harder than she’d ever fought anything in her life, bound legs kicking, arms nearly yanked from their sockets with her flailing against the cuffs. But nothing she did seemed to make any difference. Even as he choked her she held her breath, trying in vain to stop him from reaching deeper.

What a way to die this was. She had survived so much already, only to have her brain sucked out of her skull by a stranger. She’d heard the horror stories. People didn’t always die immediately from this. Sometimes they’d suffer for days, kept alive for repeat feedings, unable to move or scream as all that they were was slowly eaten away…

The proboscises and the hand at her neck were suddenly yanked away. Eloise gasped and gagged. Blood from her violated sinuses ran down the back of her throat, then poured from her nose as she tipped her head forward, the taste of metal passing between her lips. With her vision blurred by tears, she couldn’t see what was going on clearly—but she could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

She thrashed, finally able to snap the bindings around her wrists. Frantically wiping her eyes, she saw…

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Diogo wasn't himself. He was feral, a ravenous predator broken free from its cage, the boy in him locked away instead.

Lips curled back in a snarl, Diogo launched himself forward, lightsaber thrusting. Anton was slow to react, distracted by his euphoric bloodlust, only pulling away from Eloise at the last second. He narrowly avoided a fatal blow, but the blade found flesh. Sizzling plasma carved upwards, slicing through the elder Anzat's proboscises before they had time to retract. With a plop, the severed appendages writhed on the floor, curling up, their little mouth's desperately quivering.

The younger Anzat's mouth sharpened into a savage smirk. Ferocious and mad, he pivoted on his foot and lunged again.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise had never seen Dio so ferocious, snarling and slashing. Anton roared in pain as his proboscises were cut off, the stench of burning flesh filling the air. He narrowly dodged Dio’s next attack, thrown on the backfoot by the viciousness of his strikes.

Leaping to her feet, Eloise summoned her lightsaber to her hand, ready to join in the fight. She lunged forward, blade raised to bring it down on Anton’s left shoulder—but then the elder Anzat unleashed a wave of psychic energy at both Jedi. It felt like a knife stabbing into Eloise’s brain, cutting her open, her worst memories spilling out…

"It would please me if you would sit down, at least."

“I do nothing for your pleasure,” a fourteen year old Eloise snapped. She stood at the far end of a long black table laden with a lavish feast. To her left, a massive fireplace provided the sole source of light and warmth in the dark dining hall. She had not eaten in three days, yet she refused to sit down and partake of the banquet.

At the opposite end of the table, Dev Ossian just grinned at her. The glow of the fire reflected off his polished black horns, gleaming red skin, and long, sharp fangs. She was his prisoner of war. As long as she remained within his castle, her parents couldn’t trace her whereabouts. They couldn’t even sense her in the Force. It would be as if she were dead.

“You will eat,” he said. “I can see right through you, goddess. You think you’d rather starve yourself, but you want to live too much. In time you will eat and drink and love it.”

The food on the table was exquisitely prepared, but most of it was meat. Strange meat. Cutlets sloughed off of strong, muscular bodies. She watched him grab a leg and tear into its flesh with his teeth, her lip curling in disgust. These were her Zaathri warriors, captured and slain and cooked.

Dev Ossian abruptly lost his temper, roaring at her. “Is this not what you eat at home?!”

She just looked at him uncomprehendingly. She hadn’t known then. She had no idea…

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Anton narrowly dodged Diogo's follow up attack. The younger Anzat bellowed a guttural growl, crouching, poised to strike again.

Before he could, an overwhelming burst of psychic energy enveloped his mind. Claws, like that of some great beast, painfully tore into his skull, ripping open old wounds. Scar tissue came back to life. Memories poured out like blood...

Diogo was a boy again. On Niamos, watching his whole life fall apart, bearing witness to the death of his innocence.

"Mom..." an adolescent Diogo sobbed, cradling her limp head in his shaking hands. Thick rivulets of crimson streamed out of her nose, her face was sickeningly pale, her eyes fading. Dio's stomach twisted, his breath hitched. She reached up, caressing his soft, chubby cheek.

"Don't leave me, please," he whimpered. His voice was raspy and broken. His throat raw.

"Your father," she murmured. He'd done this to her, he knew, the boy had watched it happen, watched helplessly as his father fed on his mother's brain. "Your grandfather..."

"What?" Diogo asked incredulously. It was the first and last time she'd ever mentioned his grandfather. It seemed apropos of nothing...

But Diogo's attention was drawn away suddenly. Emergency sirens blared from the village proper, violating the stillness of night, and in the distance, the horrifying shrieks of a woman pierced it all.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise and Diogo were both caught in the Anzat's psychic web, unaware of their surroundings as they were forced to relive their worst memories. Anton had once again gained the upper hand…

But then a black cloud suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. Ribbons of color streamed from the dark mass, layers of cloth draped around the figure of… Thelma! Beside her, a tall, lanky young man emerged from the mist, sweeping his Cloak away from her shoulders as he turned to face the others.

Anton heaved a sigh. "Byron. I should have guessed she would run to you."

The boy grinned, his gray eyes gleaming with merry malice. "Is this another part of your plan to convince Thelma to replace me with you?" he asked. "By showing off that famous Anzati self-control? Quite the novel scheme, if I may say so."

“They are my friends,” Thelma urged from Byron’s elbow. “Free them, please!”

“Easier said than done.” He glanced at her, then sighed. “I’ll give you five seconds to leave,” he told Anton. “Get your soup elsewhere.”

Anton knew he was outnumbered. Self-preservation instincts at last kicked in, overcoming even his maddening hunger. Byron didn’t even need to count down from five before the Anzat fled, making his escape via the back door of the shop.

With a flick of his wrist, Byron severed the spell holding Diogo and Eloise in its thrall. Eloise snapped out of the memory walk first, shaking her head. “Motherfether!” she roared—only to find Anton had gone, Thelma had returned, and yet another stranger in their midst. “Where’d he go?!”

Byron’s gaze darted toward the door. He shrugged.

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Diogo was unceremoniously plucked from his memories. Reality's shocking embrace made his muscles tense, like he was dropped into a ocean that was too damn cold. Memory and reality bled together. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision.

Anton was gone. Thelma was back, with another stranger. He was tall, lanky, and an unmistakable member of Dahrtag's esteemed goth menagerie. He seemed friendly, at least.

Dio didn't linger on the pair for long. A thank you was in order, but his first concern was Eloise. It always was. She looked pissed, yet all Diogo could think about was how fragile she looked mere moments ago. Blood still dribbled down her nose and dripped down her chin. Her eyes were red and raw. He remembered feeling so helpless watching Anton feeding on her. It reminded him of his mother cradled in his arms.

In two quick strides, Diogo was skin close to Eloise. He attempted to cup his hands around her face, to pull her in gently, though he was ready to back off at the slightest resistance. He just wanted to know, "are you okay?"

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"You let him go?!" Eloise shouted angrily at Byron. Then suddenly Diogo was in front of her, cupping her face between his hands.

"Are you okay?"

His gentle touch should have been comforting. But all she could think of was the proboscises, how they had forced their way into her nose, causing her to bleed...

She backed away, just far enough to be outside his grasp. "I don't know," she replied, grimacing at the taste of iron in her mouth. Blood stained her teeth and smeared the lower half of her face, diluted by a sheen of sweat. She felt (and probably looked) like shit. "What about you?"

But even as she asked after his health, her thoughts were focused on her own. I wonder if he got any of my brain. That sobered her enough to realize that she couldn't pursue Anton in her current state. Whether her brain was untouched or not, he had maintained control over both her and Dio every time they tried to fight back. She wasn't powerful enough yet to take him on. And until I'm strong enough, he'll feed on others, she thought darkly.

"Why did you let him go?" Thelma was asking Byron, evidently just as confused by his actions as everyone else.

Byron shrugged. "Anzati or not, he's still kindred. And he's a bocor. He taught me the ways of the right hand and the left. I can't help but feel a certain amount of respect for him, enslaved to his appetite as he's become."

Eloise was still pissed that he hadn't killed Anton, but she could put aside her rage long enough to get some info out of this guy. "Who the hell are you, anyway?" Eloise asked, wiping the blood from her upper lip on the back of her hand.

"Byron Devorak," he answered. His Cloak swept the floor as he bowed. "I'm a bocor."

"I don't know what that is."

"I'm a voodoo sorcerer." Byron's gaze, which had been fixated on her blood, now darted down to the lightsaber hilt in her hand. He smirked. "You're Jedi. Old friends of Thelma's?"

"You could say that." Thelma quickly introduced them, "This is Eloise, and Diogo. Byron... works for me." She spoke of his service to her haltingly, as though she wasn't yet comfortable with having someone like him in her employ.

Eloise, in her typical fashion, wasn't just going to let it slide without asking questions. "Why the hell does a seamstress need a sorcerer working for her?"

"I... It's a long story," Thelma said softly. "I'm not only a seamstress these days..."

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise backed away. She looked disgusted, disturbed, revolted. That scared him. It was how he expected her to look back on Coruscant, when he first revealed his secret. Maybe she was in shock, or, maybe she saw what Dio really was now, the things he was capable of, thanks to Anton.

The green-haired boy backed away even further, manifesting the distance he felt suddenly growing between them.

"What about you?"

"Same," he said sullenly, unable to meet her eyes.

In the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten his proboscises were hanging limply out of their sockets. They shamefully retracted.

"Byron Devorak," he answered. His Cloak swept the floor as he bowed. "I'm a bocor."

"I'm a voodoo sorcerer."

"You could say that." Thelma quickly introduced them, "This is Eloise, and Diogo. Byron... works for me."

Voodoo sorcerer gave him the heebie jeebies. The pretentious bow didn't help either.

"Sup," Diogo greeted. "And, uh, thanks for the help."

Diogo didn't know how to feel about Byron sparing Anton. Now that his bloodlust had subsided, he thought he might've done the same. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

"I... It's a long story," Thelma said softly. "I'm not only a seamstress these days..."

"I think you owe us an explanation," Diogo chimed in. He wasn't so much concerned with Thelma herself as he was with why Anton sought her audience. Whatever the elder Anzat wanted, he wasn't going to give up until he got it. Silently, Dio suspected that now included him and Eloise.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Diogo finally put his proboscises away, and Eloise’s posture relaxed slightly without her noticing. Anton's severed appendages lay dead on the floor, the stench of burning flesh lingering in the room.

"I think you owe us an explanation."

Eloise was thinking the same thing. She eyed the pair, still aggravated by the whole situation. She came here for clothes and had almost lost her brain.

"Necropolis' criminal underworld is run by vampires of all species," Thelma explained, wringing her small bony hands. "One of the more... prolific ones was my great-grandfather, Han Werdegast. He practically ruled the capital. I didn't know we were related until recently, but he left everything to me in his will."

"Ayo?" Eloise muttered, eyebrows raised. "Does that mean you're rich?"

"Beyond your wildest dreams," Byron answered, his smile all teeth. “And yet she’s ashamed of it. She just wants to be a little seamstress for all eternity.”

"It’s blood money," Thelma continued. "My inheritance includes his criminal empire. He dealt in drugs, stolen goods, slaves..."

“Oh,” Eloise said.

Byron stifled a snort. "I worked for Mr. Werdegast. Now I serve his successor. Anton wants to take my place, become the bocor of the most powerful vamp in Necropolis. But in typical Anzati fashion, he came on too strong. Had Thelma not seized my Cloak and used it to teleport away in time, all three of you would be empty-headed corpses.”

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Oh, Thelma was rich rich. Did she need a friend?

"It’s blood money," Thelma continued. "My inheritance includes his criminal empire. He dealt in drugs, stolen goods, slaves..."

"I suppose that includes his enemies, too," Diogo said, gesturing to the disheveled guts of the store. At least someone shooting up Thelma's lil tailoring shop made sense now.

"But in typical Anzati fashion, he came on too strong."

Ok. Dio took that personally. He frowned.

"Had Thelma not seized my Cloak and used it to teleport away in time, all three of you would be empty-headed corpses.”

Diogo scoffed. This guy was starting to get on his nerves. "Relax, bud. I could've taken him. I just needed a second."

Dio addressed Thelma, eyeing her skeptically. "What will you do now?" he asked. "I suspect this is just the start of things to come."

She was in a tough situation, and Dio didn't envy her. The little vampiress didn't seem capable of running a fethin' criminal empire. She could barely take care of herself, all tight skin and protruding bones. And Force help her if this Byron dude was acting as her sole confidant.

Eloise Dinn​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"I suppose that includes his enemies, too," Diogo said, gesturing to the disheveled guts of the store.

Thelma nodded. "My great aunt did this. I never even really knew her..." She trailed off. "A friend took care of her for me."

Byron had moved toward the desk, examining the sketches which Thelma had made of Eloise's commission ideas. One was a series of portraits of a woman wearing an elaborate veil, a crown full of jewels, a circlet. The other sketches were of a tall, athletic man clad in various fitted suits...

"Relax, bud. I could've taken him. I just needed a second."

"You're not the first Jedi to struggle against a bocor, you know," Byron said. "All your lives you train to fight the same old rogues' gallery—Sith, Imperials, Mandalorians. When you face a new foe who doesn't fit into one of your neat little categories, it takes you by surprise."

Eloise frowned. She had been puzzling over why Anton was able to get the upper hand over them, and she had to admit there was some truth to Byron's words. The elder Anzat was like no other threat she had ever faced before. The zombie powder, his psychic abilities, the sheer power behind his telekinesis... It was all totally unexpected. Unpredictable. "What the hell is an Eastern Master of Ceremonies, anyway?" she asked.

"The Master of Cerements is the high priest of the voodoo religion," Byron replied. "Since the Schism, there have been two Masters on Necropolis, one for the east and one for the west. Neither one of them are supposed to be bocors, but that didn't stop Anton. He's been living a double life for the better part of a decade..."

"Are bocors evil?" Eloise asked bluntly. "Do they use the Dark Side?"

Byron smirked. "For us there is no Light or Dark, good or evil. It is a false distinction. There is only desire."

"That sounds like something a Dark Sider would say," Eloise muttered, eyes narrowing.

Her fingers twitched toward the hilt of her lightsaber. Byron licked his lips, his pale gray eyes gleaming with merry malice. For a moment it seemed like there would be another duel—had Thelma not placed her small, frail form between them. "You are all my friends," she said. "And this is my shop, though it's seen better days. If only for my sake, don't fight in here."

Byron looked at Thelma, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly. "As you wish," he said.

Eloise grunted, slow to relax.

"What will you do now? I suspect this is just the start of things to come."

"I will do what I can," Thelma answered. "To survive, and to undo as much damage as possible. I am not without allies... and friends."

Diogo Talon​

 

[Diogo Talon]

"My great aunt did this. I never even really knew her..." She trailed off. "A friend took care of her for me."

"Oh," Diogo responded. "Sorry, or whatever." Congrats, maybe, but that sounded inappropriate.

Keeping a comfortable distance, Dio trailed Byron to the desk, taking a cursory glance at what looked like fresh sketches. They were nice. Wait, was that a suit? Uh, multiple suits? Were these... Dio briefly glared at El, eyes narrowing, but his attention snapped back to Byron as he explained Necropolitan religious lore and how Anton fit into it.

"He's been living a double life for the better part of a decade..."

"Fascinating..." he murmured, then shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal gesture when he realized that sounded too much like admiration. Which, it was.

"For us there is no Light or Dark, good or evil. It is a false distinction. There is only desire."

"That sounds like something a Dark Sider would say," Eloise muttered, eyes narrowing.

"Exactly like somethin' a dark sider would say." Dio concurred. "Desire for... what? Power? I fail to see the distinction."

Then the air grew thick. Eloise's hand twitched to her lightsaber hilt and Diogo's hand drifted to his own. The ache of exhaustion was suddenly replaced with a buzz of adrenaline. Before the situation turned bloody, Thelma was quick to cut the tension, throwing her own diminutive figure between them.

Dio scowled, but his hands dropped to this sides and he sidled closer to Eloise. He eyed Byron with thinly-veiled contempt.

"I will do what I can," Thelma answered. "To survive, and to undo as much damage as possible. I am not without allies... and friends."

"Well, I guess we owe you our lives. If there's anything we can do to help..."

Eloise Dinn​