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Sandy, Spectral Haunts (Silv & PickledPlatinum)

S

Silvarusc

Planetoid
Joined
Jan 28, 2010
Mos Espa. A once-sweet desert rose nestled in the heart of the horrid dune sea, the winding snake of a city was a dying cesspit of corruption. With an economy based so heavily on drawing in spectators for the famed pod races, it was a city of come and go. There were always strangers in the streets, and their faces changed day to day, week to week, race to race. The locals were lost in the constant crush of visitors and excitement, and business boomed. Especially the lucrative businesses that were the slave trade, and in particular the night life.

Cantinas were like roaches—for every one you saw, there were another two nestled around the corner in some filthy back alley somewhere, somehow. The more civilized ones were featured on the main drag of the snake-like central street, complete with dancing entertainment. The more seedy, darker places were the ones that a person couldn't find unless they were lost in the maze of alleys and walks.

Rather than put herself in either category, the young red-headed woman chose to walk the hazy middle line, choosing an establishment only a block away from the main street. Just far enough away from the commonplace that the common folk wouldn't bother most of the time, and not far enough into the shadows that the shadow dwellers wouldn't come out unless called. Her name, or rather the word that she chose to be called by, was Seren. Seren Fey, some called her—fey meaning a number of things, but most commonly 'fated to die'. And that was the reason that she kept to a nearly indistinguishable fringe, where she wasn't likely to be found, by someone who wanted to carry out that fate.

And so she slid up to the bar, hunkered into a seat, and tipped the barkeep's attention toward her just enough to let him know he had a new client. “Durindfire,” she whispered “Cold.” And the glowing cocktail appeared before her in a moment or two. The barkeep cleared his throat, and she looked up from a sip, gesturing at him vaguely with her hand. “I already paid you, good sir. Forget me.” His eyes glazed very slightly, he nodded, waved her away, and she slid away from the crowd at the bar, and into a corner, out of sight, and out of mind. Or, she would have been had it not been for the glowstick of a drink she was sipping at, twirling the glass in her fingers. She smiled at the sickly blue-green glow, watching the way the light lit her delicate features into a ghastly, spectral glow, from the reflection in the glass. Her smile didn't reveal her teeth, and was faint enough that it was nearly not there, but it was just enough to make her features all the more eerie in the ghostly glow.

Let the night begin.
 
(Let me first apologize for taking so long, sorry.)

A young man walked into the shabby bar, many obviously illegal drinks bubbled lightly behind the bar. The man looked around as if he had sensed something amiss. His eyes stopped on Fey for several moments before he turned back towards the bar, now acting as though he was completely unaware of her very existence.

The man himself was difficult to describe, since he was cloaked and hooded in Jedi garb. The garb was pure white and was etched with almost to many Jedi symbols, as if some form of disguise. Many heads turned, as his garbs apparently announced the presence of a Jedi to the stupid and easily fooled.

The man sat down by the bar and ordered a drink, placing a small pack which he carried down. The pack hit the floor heavily, indicating valuable or just plain heavy contents. One of the drunks eyed the pack, obviously thinking about potential contents. To this the man whispered shortly in his ear. The drunk stood up and walked out of the bar, ignoring the call of the bar tender. "Hey you, Riorian, you didn't pay for your last round." The bar tender chased after the drunk and turned him around, the drunk didn't seem to notice he had been turned around as he walked past the bar tender collapsing on the floor near the bar.

The bar tender seemed confused for a moment but quickly recovered as he walked up to the drunk, extracting his wallet from his pocket and returning to behind the bar.
 
(No problem. ^^ Life happens. Rather frequently, in fact.)

From her spot, Fey could see the entirety of the bar, except down beneath it which wasn't visible to anyone except perhaps those sitting at the bar itself. She could see the drunks, the sober, the deals being made and unmade, and the entrance and exit of every patron. All there was to give her own presence away was the steadily dwindling bottle of glowing liquid, and within a number of minutes, it too had been extinguished.

Becoming bored, and deciding to play with a glowing drop hovering around the inside of the neck of the bottle, she didn't notice the look she received from the newest entry to the establishment. Her eyes rose to touch his back just as he turned away. His robe intrigued her--she had always known Jedi to be much more subtle creatures. They hardly liked to flaunt their presence like that, wearing pure white with jumbles of stark symbols. That brought several things to mind; he could either be an idiot, or a fake. One way or another, it hardly seemed to bode badly for her.

Bored with the sudden lack of good drink in her bottle, she mentally nudged the bartender with her suggestion of more drink, and he made his way over to her with another cold durindfire, eyes slightly clouded with her mental pressure, and bent for a moment, almost as if talking to her, and she made the mimed action of slipping something into his hand, though she really did no such thing. He dropped the imaginary money into his apron, and then wended his way back to the bar, where he seemed to come back to himself. Completely unaware of what had just happened.

She chuckled softly, and cracked the wax seal from the second bottle, sipping steadily as she continued to watch the goings on, in particularly the potentially stupid/fake Jedi who sat at the bar.
 
The man silently sipped his drink as if no one else was present. Several thugs were talking about the man as silently as they could. They occasionally would point to him and the bag he carried as they rabidly discussed their increasingly obvious plans.

The man remained by the bar, not even giving the bar tender his attention as he mentally probed everyone in the room. He did this rather slowly, and cautiously towards those most likely to catch him in their mind. He finally had a general synopsis of everyone in the room, and what some of them planned to do next. The only one missing from the picture was Fey, whom he had intentionally avoided contacting mentally.

He took several more sips from his drink, relishing it's subtle intoxicating effect that he so enjoyed. He waited several moments, keeping his senses alert to see what fey would do. The only thing he knew about her for sure was that she was shrouded in the dark side of the force and had no training to hide this from others familiar with the force. Though she was powerful, the force was strong with her, but she neglected to properly train herself.
 
While two small bottles of drink were certainly nowhere near the amount that she would need to ingest to even come close to being intoxicated, they were enough for her to make her more easily bored. If there was one thing that was bad for her to be, it was bored, because she had absolutely no problems with starting things that would make her...less bored. What mattered quite a bit to her was her own amusement. It was petty, sure, by all means, but it was her.

Her attention had turned to one particular group of men muttering to one another, and watching the 'Jedi' at the bar. There were four of them, and it looked like they were getting ready to move. She smiled.

One of them stood up, from the far side of the table, and began to move around his companions as they began to rise, and she found her opening. With a gentle thought, she called a tendril of the force to swoop around his ankle, and the man went down with a squawk of anger. One of his companions jumped up, and darted around to check on him, but only made it half way when another of his buddy's chairs slid out just enough to trip the second man up. Both second and third man and chair went down into the pile, and the fourth man simply sat at the table and howled with laughter, mocking his clumsy friends.

And within seconds, a small brawl had started between the four, and it didn't take long for it to escalate to include more and more of the bar patrons by the second.

Fey chuckled, tipped back the rest of her drink, deftly ducked as a chair sailed across the room and through the window behind her head, and then disappeared out the window behind the chair in a single, fluid movement. While starting barfights was fun enough...now she needed to find another bar to plague herself upon.

She flipped up the hood of the short, tan-coloured cloak, covering her choppy, sandy red hair, smashed the empty bottle against the ground, and stepped off down the alley, humming an amused, jaunty tune to herself as she made her way deeper into the darker, nastier part of town. There was still much fun to be had.
 
The supposed "Jedi" noticed Fey leave as the bar fight conveniently broke out, and it didn't take him long to deduce what had happened. He stood up grabbing his pack, easily overpowering everyone in his way as he made his way out the door after Fey. He stepped out into the windy street to notice water was flooding it. "Rather odd for Tatooine" he thought.

He turned to see a moister farmer had in effect, lost control of his merchandise. Ignoring this small inconvenience he began to run after Fey. He quickly found traction to suddenly be a bit of a hazard in the freshly soaked street.

Catching a glimpse of Fey running off in one direction, he acts quickly to over take her. He dashes behind a corner and focuses his energy at her mind. Using the dark side of the force to seize control of her mind.

(permission to god mod, just a little while I use some sith magic?)
 
(go ahead. just have a bit of a hard time, because she isn't supposed to be totally weak in the force. she also does not happen to have the holocron on her person, if that becomes an issue)

The swell of darkness in the currents of the force behind her was enough to alert her that something was definitely not right, but she wasn't quite quick enough to throw up her mental shields to a state where she would either be invisible or able to block any sort of mental attack.

Her hands jerked over the hilts of her sabers, fighting for control to take them as the other mind in hers fought her to keep them off. Her entire body stiffened, her back arching to a painful angle as she fought the mind control, lashing out with a mental bombardment of her own. But she was simply too disoriented and caught off guard for that to function properly, and though she could tell the general direction of the attack, she was more interested in trying to keep control then she was in pinpointing the idiot screwing with her.

As a last ditch effort as she remained trapped in the arched posture, Fey threw back her head and let out a sharp keening shriek, much like a banshee, that reverberated in reality as well as in the force. To anyone without any sort of training or force abilities, the sound put them down almost instantly, bleeding from the ears. Not dead, but in massive pain or unconscious. Windows shattered shamelessly within a fifty foot radius, and then the sound cut off as she crumpled to the ground in a limp heap. A force scream was erratic and unpredictable, and also took a massive amount of energy. It's lack of total success had destroyed any chance she'd had of fighting the invading mind in her own, and she laid there, curled on her side, her eyes totally blank and glassy while her conscious mind flailed and screamed inside her head.
 
((OOC: My cats killed my router, so I currently have no internet access. I'll be gone for a while, but will post as soon as I get back. Really sorry.))
 
(No problem.)

Kynslive was thrown back slightly at the rather unexpected force scream. He scanned the area observing the damage done by Fey and then quickly turned back to Fey seizing control of her mind. She was weak after that single attack, and although his ears were still ringing he was able to quickly take control of her mind.

He had her stand and follow swiftly behind him towards the edge of the city. A lone speeder hovered over the sand just outside the city, a dug happened to be in the process of looking through the speeder for valuables. the dug looked up, rather surprised to see the two approaching the speeder. He jumps out of the speeder in a panic as Kynslive raises his hand. The Dug begins to apparently choke, not able to breathe as it attempts and advance on Fey and Kynslive.

Kynslive has Fey sit down in the passenger seat in the speeder as he chokes the dug to death and retrieve is stolen goods. As various objects float through the air replacing themselves in their original position Kynslive seats himself down and fires up the engine and speeds off into the desert. Kynslive closed the cockpit, shielding both himself and Fey in darkness, away from the blazing sun.

After about three hours they come to a large ship in the middle of the desert, with rather a rather obvious purpose for battle. He slows down the speeder and opens the cockpit, stepping out he has Fey follow him into the ship, leaving the speeder open as he usually did.

Despite the fact the ship was designed for battle it was fairly luxurious, with dual decks, each luxuriously furnished. Kynslive brought Fey onto the second deck into a small lounge, where he yielded control of her mind, but kept his presence in her mind.
 
((I'm really sorry about that))

Fey was mostly aware of the trip through the city, though the surroundings blurred slightly from a combination of the speed and her distraction as she attempted to wrest control of her mind back from the strange man from the bar. While she couldn't control her motion, a rough, dark expression began to appear on her face, and her teeth gritted. Her canines elongated very slightly into a delicate pair of points, and her breath began to hiss. While he had the control, she was still roughly fighting him.

The trip in the speeder flew past in a blur, and by the time they reached the ship she was mentally and physically exhausted. A few tiny flecks of perspiration dotted her face beneath her russet hair, and her eyes had taken a slightly orange-yellow hue characteristic of many Sith. Mostly, the colour was due to her fury at losing control, and when she lost her temper, sometimes parts of her physiology changed, due to her shapeshifting nature. The only changes so far were the teeth and the eyes, and both were hardly noticeable.

She hadn't been expecting the sudden yield of control, and she jerked harshly when it flooded back to her. A sharp gasp came from her, and then she took a step back, tensing, and her face screwed up in an ugly snarl.

"That," she growled "Was rude." But she knew better than to put her hands near her weapons, or attack him just yet. She could feel him. Her arms crossed under her breasts tightly, and she shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flickering and inspecting the room every few seconds from the corners of her eyes, before returning her gaze to his face. "What was the point to that?!"
 
Kynslive sealed the doors to the ship and walked over to a small compartment, opening it. Inside was a galore of Sith holocron's. He opened the pack he had been carrying and carfully sorted the contents onto separate shelves with other holocrons, sorting them carefully. He then sealed the door with a very unique lock that sealed itself with a specialized holocron that required one to activate the holocron to gain access.

He then turned to Fey whom he had ignored until now. "What is your name?" It was a simple question that he already knew the answer too since he had already visited her mind. The question was simply a test to see if she knew that he already had most of his questions answered. Testing how much she knew of the dark side, perhaps she was greatly knowledgeable, or perhaps she knew nothing and was simply shrouded in the dark side. He would soon find out for himself if she knew anything worth learning.
 
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