B E A C O N
Low Lays the Devil
Night had fallen some time ago now over the moon of Yavin IV, and it had long since been bathed in the silence that slumber brought with it. Lurking through this unassuming silence was the shadow that lingered just beyond the sight of a Jedi-turned-dark, felt like the wind on the smallest hairs at the end of one's neck but gone like a phantom wherever the eyes could see. Down the street she strode -
Allyson Locke
- until she arrived home, and though she slipped into her apartment safe and seemingly alone the shadow was not gone. Click brought on the lights, and, though the sensation of a haze hanging remained, Allyson's nightly ritual continued uninterrupted until at last the familiar click of a switch cut the lights as sleep touched at the corners of her eyes. In the darkness, where no shadow could exist without light to cast it, the haze took its shape - its fiery red eyes staring back at her in the dark.click.
The lights would not flicker.
A suffocating darkness smothered everything, spreading out from what could only be described as a spectre of horror that seemed to drew closer as the being's presence gradually grew in the force. Like a canvas of black, or the negative of some archaic form of photography, color slowly bled through the night as Vesta Zambrano came into view, illuminated despite the absence of light. "Locke." He said, calling to her. A dim red light illuminated the space around them as the walls seemed to peel from the floor and the ceiling appeared to rise to impossible heights, the ground sinking below a black fog lit by the red glow. "Talented, versatile - you have attracted quite the dangerous gaze since you've played your dance with the Jedi and the Sith." He said, his figure slowly taking solid shape as a creature of fire. "So skilled.. and yet so tragically curious."
"Fortunately, for you, Miss Locke, I am not here for your life."
"I am here to make a deal."