Amoral.

[Redik]

The sun shone. The birds chirped. The grass grew, and if you were paying attention to growing grass you clearly had little better to do.

Redik did not heed the growing green he lay among.

He currently lay in nameless city park in a nameless city on a nameless planet. Each of these things had a name, of course, it was just meaningless. They existed like so many unraveled words, strands of thought that trailed to a frayed end. Somewhere there was a another frayed end to go with it, it simply would not reveal itself.

And he would make it show.

Somewhere in his head, an old lesson surfaced. This one was about clearing one's mind and applying force of will to something he couldn't remember and it made him RAGE but the lesson could help. He sat crosslegged in an old meditation stance, willing the thread to reconnect, willing the words to align, willing for the meaning to be there.

Patience was a virtue that he could adopt. He would linger here until it came to him, or until he received a sign. One or the other would happen, he was sure of it.

[Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs]

The all-consuming hunt just didn't seem as all-consuming and undeniably alluring as it had been with him around. The simple fact of the matter was that he wasn't here and hadn't been for months. His inner monstrosity fuelled her and made it all feel like it had a purpose - without him, she was just beginning, from time to time, to feeling like a vicious and serial whore. Put 'killer' in there somewhere and it all comes together in one disjointed nightmare for an outside eye. One, several, many sick little instances of scathing taboo was what it used to be. It was a life. Was this still a life or was it a pitiful excuse for one? That thing called 'normal' and she was just outside of it, skirting the edges of that cityscape with a touch-cut, dirty blade waving back and forth, screaming at the top of her voice.

Oddly, the grass felt better than it ever had. Or maybe, just maybe she had never noticed so intensely before. Where was she now? It mattered little in comparison to other facets of her being and history. It mattered so much to existing. She could enjoy it if she wished. Right now, she felt for herself at least, that she could enjoy something so innocently simple and a thought invaded - invaded - that she didn't have the right. She wondered if he thought of these things at all.

No, not her dear brother... but that strangely out-of-place looking man twenty feet away. Odd that her first thought wasn't to extrapolate prey potential. Getting rusty? Maybe not. He didn't really look any more out of place than she did. Maybe, just maybe that was common ground enough to approach and try her hand at some semblance of a normal conversation without and ulterior motives.

Ha. Hahahaha. Heeeee hee hee. Yeah. Snort. Right.

Closing the distance is a thoughtless thing. Next thing, you're tapping this person on the shoulder or clearing your throat or something.

"Excuse me?" Did that sound alright? Force, she'd used that two-word interruption countless times as she began laying the stones for death's walkway. Not this time.

Not if he proves to be of more worth than a short interval. Those are the rules.

Shut up, bitch.

Make me. You like it.

He didn't seem to be listening. Next thing, you're sitting next to this person, separated by a guarded two feet of space. Eyes shift once, twice, three times. Try again.

"Peaceful here, isn't it?" That voice, alluring and soothing, friendly and disarming. It comes from her.

[Redik]

The man sits calmly. In his hands, a length of frayed rope connected to a net. His fingers are rough, calloused with experience at this and yet it is oh so slow going.

The words float in, like feathers falling down a long tunnel. A gentle breeze caresses, lifts them up every so often, then silences.

They continue to drop.

The man continues, wrapping the threads around each other, end around end, attempting to weave a connection into the fiber of the cord. The ends of the net are pinned down by his arms against his knees, the weaving fingers always moving never stopping trying to tie the cord tight.

There is a snag in the line. He can see it, can feel it. He has to undo some of what he's done, but it will fix the cord. Make it better, usable again. He de-weaves, re-weaves, nimbly plucking and tucking.

Movement catches his attention. A falling feather and he stops his work. It slowly, so slowly, falls

on

to

the

cord




And then the net is on fire.

It is an explosion that penetrates deep inside his shell. The man bursts into tiny particles, the net is ash, the dock is gone, the beach is scorched, the waves have nothing to stop them from crashing all over him.

And then he hears again. Peaceful here, isn't it?

peacefulhereisn'titpeacefulhereisn'titpeacefulhere isn'titPEACEFULHEREISN'TIT

"Peaceful here, isn't it?"

He looks at her, eyes devouring every inch of her form. She doesn't fight, not like he does. She does something else. The arch of her back, the twist of her smile, the curve of her hip; these things speak to him and yet are lying.

'She wears a mask.'

His own mask comes on, but not all the way. "Peace is only a void; the gathering of energy before the next action," he replies.

His head tilts, his eyes stare into hers looking for that spark that shows something there. "Who are you and why are you here?"

[Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs]

She looked right back, seeing something that felt strange and familiar in a vague way you can't touch. Not with your hands, not if he isn't into that kind of thing. Perhaps she could touch him enough from here, without her hands. It was always so easy. It still was, but it lacked the value that gave the will to live as of late. What to do when your nature doesn't thrill you? A question worth answering, but pondering first.

Look away, like you're lying... but then, look back. Honest. Look honest, if you can and we know you can't. You don't really know how to be true like that.

"I don't... why I am here? There's no reason. Do you think having my name will give you some power over me?" She blinked, a delicate and bemused smile curling her lips. "Do you think that I think you're full of enough of useful things to afford you the luxury?"

The way she voiced her words was so nonchalant. Merely small-talk, it seemed like. She looked away, off over the vast meadow. A breeze teased, much like a contemporary to her.

"Who are you, that you need a name?"

[Redik]

"I didn't ask for your name," he speaks, making the next move in the game. "I asked who you were. If you think a name has that meaning, then use it. Otherwise, do not speak in words."

He leans over to her slowly, mouth opening like a tiger about to hold position around the head of a circus performer. Except, there did not exist a person who had him tamed. Only those he chose to bite the heads off of and those he did not.

When he speaks, it is directly into her ear in whispers that lick at her attention. "A being must be themselves, no matter how strange or fearful that self may be."

He leaned back, watching her expectantly, almost challengingly, as he said "I am Redik and I am here to remember."

[Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs]

His whisper tickled at her ear, crept down her spine and she found herself suppressing the particular smile the feeling normally brought to her face. Decisions were no longer to be made on a whim alone. This one seemed to deserve more than the usual fare.

Very... intriguing. I may retain this one for a while.

She watched him as he reclined back to his former position and continued to watch him with silence. Then he introduced himself and seemed to give some sort of reason. Reasons weren't things she ever had much of. She just took and did and got away with it.

"I'm Keiran." She replied, returning the pleasantries. Then, she smiled and looked out over the grassy place. "I don't know why I'm here."

Without further movement, save for turning her eyes back to this 'Redik' she seemed to have more to say and spoke her words, making the sort of small talk that, for once, had no ulterior motives. This one seemed not to be an easy puzzle.

"I wonder if you might have any insight into that."

[Redik]

Redik stared intently into her eyes. Keiran did seem to be her name, and yet only a name it was. Not an identity. Not a self.

He craned his head forward, eyes, sliding around her face. There was something there...

It took a few minutes for this to finish - clearly he was not one to miss a detail, whatever details it was he saw - but once he did so he settled back into a sitting position with crossed legs. He closed his eyes, seemingly turning his attention inward. "You are broken. Or think you are. Missing a part you don't really need."

"I could probably help you let go of it, if you were so inclined," he added.

[Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs]

Her head shook, side to side in refusal, the head dropping back, hair hanging in cascades so freely. Eyes, they slid shut, a fond and at the same time, sly smile happened upon her lips. It was still so early in their acquaintance and already he was offering his services. This, she knew all to well, was nothing new. They always seemed eager. Except... except, his wasn't eagerness. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. It was something.

"That won't be necessary." And she believed that. "The memories must be pushed into their places, of my own volition. I have to want it. I don't want it."

Not, no. Not yet.

The sun warmed her often pale skin. An eye creaked open and glanced sideways at the man, her present and speculative partner. Again, the eye closed. She had to wonder, though. Had to know what she could about this prey... no, interest. It was like some feral beast with an insatiable appetite within her that demanded this sacrifice after every pleasure except that one she no longer had. She had to know, how best to relate and work with and... she had to know.

"How do you do it? What... happens?" She seemed genuinely curious in her voice. "How could you 'help', were I so inclined?"

It occurred to her that he might ask something similar, but the though was of little consequence. Fair exchange was fair. Well, mostly.