Eye Of Newt [open]

[Surpanakha]

[OOC: This thread is open to anybody, regardless of rank, affiliation or Force alignment.]

A desperate moan resonated in the silent night air. Its owner was crawling pathetically through the dense underbrush of some nameless forest, frantically searching every possible nook and cranny, overturning each pebble ... Even going so far as to rake the topsoil with her blackened talons. And still, she uncovered nothing.

"Eyes, eyes, I've lost my eyes!"

The haggard form came to a stop abruptly, only to sit back on her haunches and release an otherworldly screech that sounded from the very depths of her gaunt throat. Sobbing pitifully, she slapped both palms over her withered face and rocked back and forth slowly in time with her cries.

Several minutes passed in this manner. Then, in a final attempt to attain salvation, the old woman poured all her misery and anguish into a single wail.

"Will nobody help Surpanakha find her eyes?!?"

[Gabran Darkysa]

"Woman, what are you carrying on so crazily about? Your eyes still remain in their sockets for now."

Behind her stood a young man wearing a black robe with drawn hood. Complacent expression contorted into a cruel grin. His black spade goatee shimmered in the cold morning light that filtered through the canopy above. A snort of laughter erupted from his throat as he sidled up beside the crouching woman and sat on a fallen log. Gabran drew back the hood and looked down on the witch, his faced beamed with pugnacious amusement. A gloved hand caressed her chin gently forcing their eyes to meet. His grin was no longer cruel but strangely fatherly considering the Dark Jedi was much younger than Superanakha.

"Are you mad? Or have you lost something valuable in this forsaken forest?"


[ooc- am bored and like your post, lets see where this goes.]

[Surpanakha]

A low rumble worked its way up from the pit of her stomach and escaped in the form of a feral hiss as Suri spat into the man's face, forcefully wrenching herself out of his grasp. Her distressed moans resumed all at once and she grabbed at a handful of dead leaves, using it to wipe her face; of course, all this managed to do was smear more grime across her already filthy face, but it seemed to calm the demon nonetheless.

Once she had been 'cleansed', Surpanakha slumped down and inhaled shakily, her breaths coming as ragged wheezes. Humans, humans, humans - they were frelling everywhere! And to think, one had actually laid not one, not two, but all his fingers on her! Oh the disgrace, the shame, the infamy of it all ... what would her Queen think?! And why had she not smelt that very epitome of her loathing approach?

The answer came as rays of sunlight penetrated the dense treetops to touch her foot; she had lost all track of time, searching as she was. Snarling, she pulled her leg away hurriedly. Surpanakha was by no means as sensitive during the day as certain other species of demon, but it did place her in a far more vulnerable position in front of this ... thing. This repugnant, vile, ugly, thing.

"What do you want, human?" she croaked.

[Gabran Darkysa]

She reared up and hissed like an angry cobra, spitting in his face. Gabran felt the spittle strike his cheek, causing a flash of black, sanguineous anger to broil within him. Calmly he reached into the folds of his robes and retrieved a piece of clothe. Watching her paw through the bed of fallen leaves, gathering them in her grasp and rubbing them roughly against her face as if she was attempting to cleanse herself. Or sanctity. But they only crumbled between her palms and skin, leaving small marks of mud and grime.

Gabran chose to clean his face with the clean clothe. If he was not so amused and fascinated by this strange creature, the Dark Jedi would have surely removed her head from her shoulders. But no, not this one. Even as the apprentice witnessed Surpanakha's filthy carious form begin writhe about on the forest floor, avoiding the sunlight and muttering in strange tongues, he noted that he had no idea what she might be. She looked nearly human enough but vastly disparate in the Force. He tossed the clothe aside.

His presence seemed to offend and disorient the strange woman. It appeared to pain her which afforded him an added pleasure. Then a question rattled out of the bowels of her throat. Spoken direct and in basic. Gabran's hand pulled at his goatee with dark surmise.

"I seek my life and my death."

[Surpanakha]

"Death? Yes, yes, death! Death is easy."

She grinned smugly, almost haughtily, as though asked a question to which the answer was remarkably blatant. If this funny little man - well, perhaps not exactly little - truly sought his end, the demon would very willingly oblige. One less human contaminating the mortal realms! Suri sighed. Such a beautiful vision, that: a world untainted by mankind, spread like a viscous toxin throughout the galaxies.

Then again, Surpanakha was half-human. But the man didn't know that, and she intended on keeping things that way.

Instead, she satisfied herself with the knowledge that he really was a human. It was far from pleasant, but her previous statement had been based entirely on assumption. Her olfactory senses were ineffectual in daylight and it calmed the demon that the man himself had avowed her suspicions. Only frell knew what these beings were capable of, if forewarned of others' weaknesses.

She shook her head in silent pity. Such a shame; that sort of treachery was admirable. A valuable asset indeed. If only they weren't bloody human!

But alas, no matter how heavily sleep weighed down upon her weary bones, there remained work to be done. Surpanakha's eyes flashed a deep garnet as her gaze bore into Gabran's. The wrinkles on her forehead creased all the more and she leaned forward so that her nose was very nearly touching that of the human's (thank Lordess Vicet she'd lost the ability to smell!).

"You have lovely eyes."

[Gabran Darkysa]

Gabran's eyes consumed her wrinkled visage, observing all the undesirable miniscule details that loomed before his face. The demon's face was leathery with the palor of death, her putrid breathe carried an odor of mildew and small dead things. At this proximity it was impossible to avoid this woman's odd preternatural gaze.

An impression came over him as though with a mere glance she could uncover his deepest secrets. Read him like a book or dissect his every nerve and thought, discerning Gabran's very heart. However this did not sway the Dark Jedi nor her breathe turn him away. He knew naturally through the Force it was impossible. His inner-heart could not be so easily drawn from him.

But her curious fixation on eyes puzzled him most. Deciding to humor this strange creature, he spoke, "Alas, my eyes are indeed lovely but nothing can compare to the beauty I behold before me now. May I ask, by what name this dazzling presence is invoked by?"

Gabran flashed an charming yet slightly malignant grin.

[Surpanakha]

Surpanakha's eyes were wide with astonishment, but the shock faded away quickly to be replaced with horror and revulsion. This human was stupider than she could have ever fathomed. "Aye, you are blind," she snorted.

Leaning back some way, she lazily picked at a mole growing from her chin with a thin, sharpened talon. She saw no harm in gracing him with an answer: at most, he would remember it, which was of little consequence since she was not of this realm. No dweller of the higher worlds knew of her existence.

"We are Surpanakha and..." as if on cue, a small, flimsy beast plopped down on his head. "...Livyatan." The creature appeared to smirk. "But that is not important." The grin disappeared. Having decided that he quite liked staying up on Gabran's head, he began poking the scalp.

The larger of the pair, inseparable in every way, unsheathed from within her frayed robes an intricately designed dagger. Suri thumbed the blade adoringly: it was the dearest of all her material possessions. She then focused her burgundy stare on the human. "Your eyes do not see," she muttered contemplatively. "May I have one?"

[Gabran Darkysa]

Gabran grinned tightly with face turned a deathly pallor, spoke low and forceful...

"Aye, ol'hag, what are ya doing with those nerf-pokers? Going to stab me, eh? Take my eyes? Be sure to stick them in my heart where my deepest, darkest dreams lie! But make it quick and sure... or I will have ya head on a stake!"

Rolling his eyes up, feeling the incessant picking of a small beast's palatious probing. With blurring speed of his Force-enhanced reflexes, Gabran's arm shot up and grasped the beast's neck in a wiry, steel grip of his hand. Ripping it down from atop it's inhospitable perch. Gabran's other hand already was armed with a unactivated lightsaber, hilt held right below the animal's jaws.

"Or maybe I should make a cap out of yer vermin first?"