Forbidden Elements: Taste of the Unknown

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Do you feel it? Do you feel the cold breath of the night's winds upon the back of your bare neck? It's called fate's waking hours. Only now have you begun your journey down the path to complete your destiny, to face your fate. Your story has already been written.
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*Where am I? he thought to himself. His head began to pound in rhythmic beats, steadily growing faster. A horrible taste filled his mouth, making it to dry to spit or swallow anything. His eyes opened, straining to adjust to the dark lit alleyway. The cold Coruscant air drifting through his matted and messy hair to his bare neck.

Nathan finally came to his hung-over senses, feeling the cold dura-create structure he had been leaning against, and the cold of the blacktop he had been sitting on. His eyes slowly drifted down to his left hand, which he had felt just moving back and forth across the surface, his fingernails scrapping and scratching up any loose debris.

What the -?

His eyes tried to go wide as he found a pool of fresh red blood on his hands and on the ground where he sat.

What happened?

A moan of pain and loathe escaped his throat, the throbbing of his head playing a full symphony. Whose blood was this on his hands and on the ground? It certainly wasn't his. And why was he drunk? He never got drunk. There were so many questions popping up without answers; the only help coming from a distant maniacal laugh echoing silently in the depths of his mind.*

[Jared Mriad]

A shadow casted down upon Nathanial's prone, casted down from the heavens by the bearer of two boots and black slacks. He had observed the drunkard, saw how he stumbled out of the bar with the mind of alcohol and collapsed in the alley. He found it amusing and very uncharacteristic of whom he observed.

He had laughed, sat and laughed like a loon.

In the past, he would've been struck down and slain on the spot for such insubordination! But now, no... Respect was still there, but the desire to serve him had left with the man sired under the surname of Mortis. A Master. But, Nathanial. Yes.

"The night bore your torment well," He said. Walking forward with two strides, then knelt down to a crouch and propped his arms on kneecaps, "You were looted, but the mongrel had been disposed of."

He chuckled deeply.

"It's been awhile."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*I know that voice, the man said to himself. He squitned up at thet crouching figure, trying to focus in on his face. His blood shot eyes closed tight, his head still throbbing.*

Is that whose blood this is?

*A nod of his head towards his blood covered hand and ground, was all he gave the other. Ugh! Why did he not recognize this familiar voice!? What had he been doing these past few days to get him in this state of mind? Opening his eyes back into a squint, Nate spoke.*

How long, exactly?

[Jared Mriad]

Jared shrugged his shoulders, the creak of leather and cloth.

"It doesn't matter. A good month, or a night," He replied, eyes narrowing to slits. "Why do you weaken yourself such, Snack? The Lord I knew now a stumbling drunkard?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I...

*He trailed off. How could he tell this person that he was possessed? That he was not in control of his own actions anymore? How could he tell himself? Sure, he denied it, but he knew the truth: that 'Father' was slowly taking over his entire mind body and soul. That, one day, he would become 'Father.'

Nathan couldn't tell him and the spirit in his mind would make sure of that. Instantly, a sadistic look crossed into Nathan's eyes, twisting his face into something of pure evil. His left arm shot out, his hand clutching the fabric of the other's shirt at the collar. Violently, Nate pulled the other down and in, so that their faces were mere centimeters apart; their eyes level with each other.

As he looked in, the recognition of the voice and face came to the forefront. Jared. One of his old apprentices. The twist left Nathan's being for the moment, a victory over his possessor. He let Jared look long and hard into his eyes, hoping that he would figure it out, but somehow, he knew it would take more.*

I'm not myself.

*Nathan's voice was almost a whisper when he spoke. He let go of Jared's shirt, blood stains smeared into the fabric from his tight grip. The momentary calm in the Sith Lord's mind was soon to come to an end, memories of hidden knowledge obtained when he was a Council Member of the Sith Empire being brought up once more as 'Father' found it. Knowledge of Jared, and his undocumented leaves of absences from the Empire before it fell.*

[Jared Mriad]

Jared grinned the whole while, it was amusing and he couldn't fake his amusement. He pushed himself back up to his upright idle crouch, the fingers on his right hand tapping the material of his pantaloons as the grin faded way. Jared saw something he didn't enjoy seeing - something in those eyes that agitated him deeply.

"Indeed," He replied flatly, then stood up. "I assume you're not going to lay in that filth for another night?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I'd rather not, no.

*Nate shook his head and brought his left hand to rest on his lap. His right joined, the two clasping each other. It liked like the man was ready to go into a meditation trance.*

Though, I don't know where or what I'd trade this dura-crete slab for. *Pause* What do you these days, Jared?

*He asked his question which came from left field. Nathan looked up to Jared with childlike curiosity.*

[Jared Mriad]

Jared chose not to respond right away and mused over it. He had done many things in the past days, some of them he'd enjoy forgetting. "Many things," He eventually replied, "Living onward, fighting forward, learning onward. Doing things that I dreamed in the past that I could never do."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

How cryptic!

*Nate said, shaking the hangover from his head.*

But you were always gifted.

*The man stumbled to get up, rising to stand on his own two feet. His legs creaked with stiffness as cracks could be heard from his joints. How long was he out for?

Equilibrium lost itself and Nate had to brace his hands against the slab of building wall behind him to keep himself from falling over. He shook his head once more and then returned his eyes to Jared's face.*

And who uses your gifts?

[Jared Mriad]

"Have you ever heard of a man named Gav Mortis?" Jared responded, leaning his shoulder into the wall which Nate himself propped upon. One saber hung out of his jacket, which seemed to float on a clip on a shoulder holster. "I'm under his tutoring now."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Gav... Gav... Gav...

*His eyelids clutched tight as he tried to remember the name. It wanted to sound familliar. Perhaps a record exsisted within the old Empire's database, one that Nathan might have glanced over.*

..Mortis? I don't think I've ever met anyone by that name. He good?

[Jared Mriad]

"Better than those Order freaks," He replied, refering to Cherice from the breif tutorage under her sadistic wing. "Much better. I don't think I have had as much fun while learnin' ever.... nor had my life on the line from it. Come, let's get something in that post-drunk stomach of yours, it'll ease back the hangover.."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Mmm, great to hear!

*Nate said with dripping sarcasm that sounded like he was really thrilled that Jared had found a good mentor.

Kill him. Slit his insubordinate throat where he stands. Make him remember it was you who began his path.

He shook his head from the nagging voice and smiled.*

Yes, food will do me good. Lead the way!

[Jared Mriad]

Jared pushed off the wall and started out of the alley, taking a brief glance to the left before he started out to the right. A luxerious and expensive swoop bike sat on the curb, black as the night and polished to a good shine. Unlike most swoops with the arched front bars, this swoop was more of a solid structure, a wide front end that curved down to a slope with a even wider back end, a pair of thrusters resting on the sides.

“This place is trash,” he commented, tossing a motion of his head over his shoulder, “Watered down beer, too. You're lucky you didn't die from it.” He reached over and tapped something into a keypad on the swoop which beeped once in response before locking down. “There's a better cafe a couple blocks down. Can you walk it?”

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I'm sure I can walk.

*Nate mocked a grin as he pushed himself from the side of the building. He found his equalibrium off as a dizy spell hit him.

And then he remembered that he was a Force user. He concentrated as much as he could on the Force, asking it to ease away the spinning sensation and to bring his equalibrium back. It did, and within a couple seconds, Nathan was fine.

He glanced at the swopp bike Jared was looking at, and then looked back at his former apprentice.*

Lead the way. And trust me, it takes a lot to kill me.

[Jared Mriad]

“Good,” Jared replied, slipping the swoops keys into his pocket before he started down the street at a brisk pace, hands slipping into his coat pockets as he walked – the Sith Warrior suddenly seemed to become a nobody in disguise, slipping through the crowd without a look or second thought to his passing. “It's starting to take more and more to kill us, nowadays, yanno? Those Jedi are coming out less and less, use to see them all over the streets – now they're nowhere.”

Jared continued walking, speaking as he went. At one point, he slipped between two individuals and came out with a wallet pickpocketed from one of the two unlucky fellows. He opened it and fanned through the creds before nodding and slipping it into his pocket, catching a look from Nathan. “What?” he smirked, “Old habits die hard. I use to be an orphan, remember? The cafe's up ahead.”

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*A nod with a semi-smirk signaled Nate's reply to the Sith leading the way. He didn't remember many little details for there were just too many. But he did recall that tid bit about his former apprentice.*

We'll have to turn against our own, then.

*It was a reply to Jared's statement about there being less and less Jedi around. Nathan doubted that, actually. There were always Jedi out there. Whether they wanted to be found or not was a different story.

As the two made their way down to the cafe, Nate could see a couple of differences between the two men. While Jared slithered through the crowded Coruscant streets with no one paying him much mind, Nathan walked in a straight (as straight as he could) line through the pedestrians. They seemed to make the man some room, while also paying him not much mind.

Or perhaps they did, and Nate was still too hung over to realize it. He did have long tattered hair, a pale disgruntled face and bloodied hands.

Speaking of which, he looked down to his blood stained hands, and his blood stained clothes, and began to worry. Paranoid eyes darted to and fro and he even turned full around to look in the direction from where Jared and he came, looking to see if the local police were searching for him.

Being out in the public suddenly didn't feel comfortable anymore. The queasy sick feeling came once again, but not form the massive hangover, but from the fact that he had no idea who he killed, how many he killed, or if he was a wanted man on Coruscant now.

And what did it even matter!? He was a Sith Lord - Sith Master - Sith uber god - something. He handled local law enforcement before, with no real problems. It was his first training exercise under Ogre Mal Pannis. Surely, now, he could have no trouble fending off the law.

But still.*

How much further?

[Jared Mriad]

Jared stopped and turned in place, stoically watching as the Lord looked around like a convicted killer surrounded by thousands of witnesses. He didn't find one partial of it amusing, it seemed as if the Nathan he knew years back had someone degraded into this confused powerhouse of a flesh bag, scared of the mouse creeping out of it's hole yet wielding enough power to level the home and several others upon a whim.

“If you start crying 'are we there yet?', I'm going to be inclined to give your headache a jump start. It's just around the next block,” He replied, turning back and starting off again. He was a little wary of Nathan now, from all the obvious hints and clues to those not too obvious ones. The crowd wasn't paying him any heed, but for the 'homeless dirty old man', they made a wide berth as if he carried some disease – that being amusing.

Indeed, a small cafe was around the next bend. A glowing sign reading 'Dixies Fly-In' or something, it wasn't too important. The important thing was, they sold the best fried hamburgers this side of Coruscaunt, at least in Jared's opinion. He held open the duraglass door for the senior Sith, motioning with his head for him to enter. “Get anything you'd want, we're at a budget of six-hundred creds.”

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*He glanced back at Jared before turning full around again to face him. His eyes blink, letting a second to pass before he let out a laugh. No, his headache didn't need a jump start.

Though he wouldn't mind jolts of amps and volts to get at the little thing that wasn't there.

Jared just looked at him before turning back around and continuing on towards the cafe.

Just like he had said, it was only a block or so further. The young Sith opened the door for the elder and told him to get whatever he wanted.

Great, since he had no idea what the place had to eat or drink.

Ugh, drink. Water. That's it.

Nathan nodded with a smile as he entered, taking a look around. A serving droid rolled up to him and asked him what he wanted in a monotone feminine droid voice.*

The house special, with a water. A big glass of water. No idea what he wants. Probably a hamburger or something.

*He shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder to Jared.*

Don't they believe in seating their customers?

*He found an empty booth to his right as he went to look back at the serving droid. Giving a smug smile, he headed for the booth and claimed it as his own.*

[Jared Mriad]

Jared held back a chuckle, at Nathan's seating comment, tossing a look to the patient waiter-droid. “I'd take a number five, minus mayo, fries, heavy coke,” he told it, then shooed it off with a wave of a hand before following the Lord. “This isn't some high-class restaurant, Snack, that's why they don't seat their customers – they figure we have enough brains up here,” he tapped his temple with a grin, “to figure out where to seat ourselves.”

He leaned back in the booth, casting one arm over the headrest before continuing, “Besides, if you want to be seated by a droid – why not go to that crummy Jedi Bar? I heard they went and bought one of those new fancy ones, they break down all the frelling time.” Someone shouted from the kitchen, and Jared sat up, peering over the stool before he waved at the shouter. It wasn't a moment's more that their drinks arrived with a bucket of complimentary rolls, as the organic left, Jared smirked and leaned in. “These folks are the only ones I wouldn't kill, Lord Snack. They make some bloody good fries... not to mention their hamburgers.”

He shook his head after a moment, taking a sip of the fizzing soda. “But, I'm rambling as usual. You, why are you here? Drunk in an alley? I haven't figured that one out yet.”

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I've graced Yog's Bar too many times to count. Remember, I was once a Jedi Knight, under the teachings of Jedi Master Leia Solo.

*A smirk crossed Nate's face as he looked across the table at Jared. He listened as his former apprentice rambled on about how he wouldn't kill the workers here, for they are the bringers of good food and yumminess. He laughed to himself at that, as did 'Father'. Though the two probably laughed for different reasons. Nate's being the fact that Jared implied senseless and indiscriminate killing, while 'Father's' was more towards the fact that he didn't know whether or not he wanted to keep Jared alive or have him dead.

And then Jared popped the hundred dollar question.*

“...I haven't figured that one out yet.”

Niether have I. Last I remember, I was in a female Jedi's apartment. She was... rather drunk - and rather naked. I don't remember anything after that.

[Jared Mriad]

Jared nearly choked on his drink at that statement, setting the glass down on the table rather quickly. Snack slept with a Jedi!? She got drunk, started putting the moves on Nathan, and had a romping night of hoo-dee-doo then dumped his drunkeness out on the street the next morning to cover her own trail? That didn't seem liable, at least, the part about Snack getting it with a Jedi. Wasn't that against their code or something?

Jared shook his head, pondering those statements. Of course, he was no detective – nor did he plan on taking that up as a second profession. “Tell me this then, why the hell were you in a Jedi's apartment?”

[Nathanial K'cansce]

She was drunk. And attractive. And rather liked having a man to 'take care' of her. Rather liked it indeed. And did I mention she was drunk and attractive?

*Nathan took a big swig of his water and cracked a smirk.*

I knew what I was going to do, and I did it. It didn't matter if she got me drunk or not, which by the feels of it, is a big possibility. Of course, the blood...

*He trailed off and looked around. Could her's be the blood he bathed in last night? Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. It could have been some unlucky bystander's life-liquid.

Does it matter?

No, it didn't. Three more gulps and his water was finished.*

[Jared Mriad]

Jared laughed, tilting back to rest on the booth's support. After his spell of humor, he shook his head side to side. "Well, I suppose you're not the first to knock up a Jedi, but you're sure the first Sith I've ever heard of doing it."

He leaned forward and rested back on the table top, pointing a finger at his bloody clothes. "Yes, the blood. We're going to have to take care of that little speck of identity. I'll have to lift another wallet offa' some lawyer, they always have a few thousand creds sitting there in a leather wallet." He planned on doing something else too, but that would require a starship that he no-longer possesed... well, legally at least.

"So, you don't remember anything that happened besides friskin' a Jedi?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*He shook his head a negative.*

No, nothing. I don't even remember the last time I ate anything.

*Glancing up, he saw the server droid roll to their booth, carrying a tray that held their food on it. The mechanical device set the plates on the table and rolled away. Now that was quick service. Nate looked at his food: a huge hunk of bantha-burger topped with everything, all nuzzled in a grilled buttered roll, and a side order of seasoned fries. The smell of his dinner drove his weak mind wild. With haste, Nate picked up his sandwich with both hands and took a huge bite, filling his mouth with deliciously goodness topped with cheese.*

Mmm.