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 The Dark and the Dank

Discussion in 'Star Wars Legacies: Part 1 Archives' started by Ush, Oct 9, 2013.

  1. Ush

    Ush Active Member

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    Daxim was drawing a map while the Ranger across from him spoke about the numerous problems he was having. His condition wasn't too odd, but it could have serious detrimental consequences with certain Rangers. Daxim smiled and nodded before handing the man the map.
    "Where does this lead?"
    "You'll see. Bring a bit of cash, you'll need it."
    The map led to the local brothel. The man needed it.
    "Now, out. I have someone else coming in in about five minutes."
    The Ranger thanked him and left. Daxim stretched and replaced his mask since he'd taken it off a few minutes before. With it on he looked slightly intimidating, with it off he hoped he looked more approachable. But he was more comfortable with it on.
    When he'd first gotten the mask he'd hated it. He'd hated all the cybernetics. He hated their glow, their hardness, how they made him less human... Now he didn't mind them. Actually, they were pretty cool.
    "Right then..."
    He didn't need to do much. Just turned off the main lights and switched on the reading lights. This place was mostly used by drunk Rangers, but Daxim also read here. Anywhere else was too noisy.
    He had three chairs prepared. This in itself was a test. The first was a grey metal thing, unfriendly looking and close to the door. If she chose this one, he had some serious progress to make.
    The second was an armchair, warm and comfortable. It was close to a light and a desk, but far from the door. This would show she was willing to trust him.
    The third was a couch. Daxim would be sitting on one side of it, and if she chose it he'd make sure nothing was wrong with her. Then he'd start flirting. Couldn't blame a man for trying, could you?
    Dax picked up his file on her. Her name, which he didn't want to try to pronounce until he heard it, her age, when she'd joined... It was a little piece of card. He just called it a file because it made him sound professional.
    He walked over to his heavy coat on the hanger. He was only wearing a loose white shirt with his heavy pants, the duster being placed on a hook, along with his pistols. He never wore weapons. The card went into an inside pocket, out of sight. He'd start from scratch with her.
    Finally, Dax stood in the middle of the room. He rarely got tired standing, a huge advantage from his legs. He'd be ready for her when she knocked, or opened the door or whatever the case may be.
  2. Black Noise

    Black Noise BN

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    Matayn stood silently outside of the reading room. In her head, she repeated the reason she had come over and over in her head. Therapy. She was not so blind as to think not telling anyone about all that had happened to her was not killing her inside. She was loath to talk to another being, yet what she knew she needed and what she wanted were so polar in their differences that she had only the option of picking one or the other at this point. No middle fence would suffice anymore, and balling her past up and gripping it close was slowly burning her up.

    Reaching up, the girl shakily knocked on the door. One hand clutched her other arm desperately over the heavy hoodie she wore. Her headphones laid on her shoulders, hung around her neck and silent for the first time in weeks. Her weapon, for perhaps the first time in years, laid far away from her. She knew better than to bring that hunk of durasteel in here.

    If the man on the other side answered, Matayn would slowly push open the door and, with her working eye, examine him. Instantly, she could tell that he had cybernetics similar to her own. However, his were not experimental, rather they were quite solid, and they took over far more of his body than her own held of her's. Nodding a greeting to him, yet not having the courage to speak an answer, the girl would immediately place herself into the nearest chair. The hard, cold metal one that sat by the door. Strangely enough, she felt more comfortable there than if she had sat in the cushioned seats, after all cold metal was not an uncommon feeling to her.

    Breathing deeply, Matayn prepared herself. What she prepared herself for, she had no clue. It was almost as if she had entered a battlefield, and a strange one at that as her opponent supposedly had only her best interests in mind.
  3. Ush

    Ush Active Member

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    Daxim counted to ten before the knock came. He grinned to himself for a moment before calling out to her.
    "Come in."
    He was standing when she came in. He was taller, but not massively so. Her eyes... They were like his, almost. His just glowed fully, not giving any indication of where the iris ended. He quickly flashed on his 'Advanced Sight'. She was filled with cybernetics. Wow. Wow. He noticed she sat on the metal chair. Dammit. He noticed how nervous she was, and the eye-patch, and everything. Ah, the wonders of having eyes that are simply better than a normal human's. But he could ask about that later. Now he had to take care of he basics. He sat on the right side of his couch. He didn't know why, but he always gravitated towards a wall or corner.
    "So... I'm Daxim, as you might know."
    He reached over to the little table and took a sheet of paper off it. He wanted to sketch those implants.
    "I'm afraid I don't know how to pronounce your name. I hesitate to say it as it's written, since most of my family had weird sounds thrown into their names when they really shouldn't have been there at all. As such, I never take for granted a pronunciation of something as... Delicate, as a name."
    He still had his mask on, so his voice came out slightly muffled and robotic-y. Out of all the things that made him self-conscious about his replacements, his mask was probably the worst. Well, apart from when people asked him what was between his waist and his legs...
    Ach, get your head out of the gutter.
    He did. Now was not the time for that sort of thought. Now was the time to help this girl... That was assuming she wanted to be helped, of course. He needed to be calm, not get frustrated, not push a point too much... Ah, this was going to be a hard case, he could feel it in his bones.
    Last edited by a moderator: Oct 13, 2013
  4. Black Noise

    Black Noise BN

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    The girl hesitated to answer, watching the man closely with her eye. She saw everything, how fast he would be able to move if she attacked, the distance he was from her and how fast he could likely cover it, and that, at least outwardly(as she could not see internal workings) his cybernetics were far more advanced than her own. He seemed so much more, complete, than herself, it was disconcerting. She wondered if his body was plagued by the same phantom pains that her's was.
    "Mah'tey'nh. Matayn. My father wanted a boy, my mother dissuaded him from outright naming me 'Martin' in anger. Matayn was the closest and farthest name they could agree on."

    Before another question could be asked, Matayn drew from what little courage she had to add and ask.
    "Who made you?"
    Instantly she regretted her wording, but the girl hoped Daxim would see what she meant and not what she said. If her cybernetic hands would allow her, Matayn likely would've been shaking from nerviousness. This was the first cybernetic being she had ever met, naturally she had a lot of questions and not yet the courage to ask them all.
    Sighing, Matayn cleared her head. This man was not an enemy, he wanted to help her and Matayn knew she needed it. Reaching her hand up, Matayn rubbed underneath her eyepatch where synthflesh covered an empty eye socket. While rubbing, she answered in a small, quiet voice.
  5. Ush

    Ush Active Member

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    Daxim smiled at her story, but waited until she asked the question to answer. He puffed out his cheeks behind his mask and tilted his head to one side, leaning back. He then laughed, his eyes bright.
    "Technically, my parents did!"
    He laughed again, but quickly stopped and seriously contemplated the question for a moment.
    "It's a long story, actually."
    He clicked his tongue a few times.
    "I'm a native on Zonju. Before I was born, my father worked for a man named Tirrafe. Tirrafe was a gang lord who owned the turf from where Araxt's ends to where the Ra'Fakki turf begins."
    He nearly hissed out the word 'Ra'fakki', trying to say it right.
    "He was the second in command, my father. Tirrafe's best friend, too. At my father's wedding day, Tirrafe told him he could ask for anything in the entire galaxy and Tirrafe would do it. My father asked if he could keep his family safe. Tirrafe said yes."
    He reached up and pulled off his mask, knowing that the continued back-round noise caused by it when active could be irritating.
    "My two siblings were born healthy physically... Mentally... Well, that's another story for another day. I, however, was born without the use of my legs. For nine years, I looked at people walking and felt a jealously unlike any other. But I should have known how lucky I was."
    He winced slightly as he thought back.
    "When I was nine years old, Tirrafe began to forcibly push into Ra'Fakki territory. My father was his... Field Commander. One day my father ran back to our apartment, kicked open the door and grabbed all of us. One of his men picked me up."
    The next part was kind of painful to talk about, but Daxim had been hurt like this so many times he didn't cry.
    "We ran. Into the Mines... Never go down there. My father thought he knew it. They change constantly, and you never know what you'll meet. We were unlucky. Ran right into a group of them. The guy holding me was hit straight through the heart, killed in an instant. My father grabbed my siblings and kept going. The end justified the means, for him. I don't hold that against him. Losing one child to save two? I suppose it's a worthwhile choice. My mother, though... Well, she didn't think so."
    He looked slightly to her left as he talked, thinking back.
    "She died. The Ra'Fakki killed her and took me. Well..."
    He exhaled, eyes darkening noticeably.
    "They were holding me hostage and were looking for money fast. After three days there wasn't much of me left."
    He shrugged, straightening up.
    "After that, not much to say, really. Tirrafe made good on his promise and here I am."
    He chuckled and rolled his shoulders.
    "Where did you come from, Matayn?"
    A seemingly un-important question, but he wanted to know. He kept watching her cybernetics all this time, watching them move as she did. Her eye was amazing, if broken slightly. He could actually see the fault... No, too delicate. Her other one was completely gone. Even the vision receptors were burned out. Thank gods he hadn't had any of that trouble with his own eyes.
  6. Black Noise

    Black Noise BN

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    Matayn listened carefully to the man as he retold, briefly, his story. A cruel beginning to life, she understood that and Matayn did not doubt he assumed as such. Her cybernetic eye automatically unfocused, refocused, and unfocused again on Daxim as he spoke, moving so quickly that the focusing could not be discerned by Matayn. She could almost watch through his eyes as retold the events of his life, looking upon others with jealousy, she knew how that went, though not in the same manner. Daxim likely watched his mother die too, yea, there was little about this man she couldn't relate to.

    When he inquired about where she came from, Matayn unconsciously stiffened. Brushing off her nervousness, she began speaking in a shaky voice. She did not bother 'apologizing' for what happened to Daxim. Regardless of the fact that none of it was her fault, just as nothing that happened to her was his fault, apologizing would serve absolutely no purpose.
    "My parents as well, for the most part. I almost wish not though."

    Breathing deeply, Matayn tried, and failed, to force out a laugh, even a mirthless one. Rather, only a small grunt of contempt would escape her throat. Letting a hint of anger trickle into her voice to give her the strength to speak, she continued.
    "I was born on the world Necropolis. Necropolis was horrible, Necropolis is horrible. With its horrible, cannibalistic people and its disgusting church from hell. I was plagued with a few seizures as a child, or so I'm told, and I was taken to the church. Mom knew about the church, and she tried to stop my father. He knocked her aside. I still am not sure why, but when he hit her, he hit so hard that she flung back into a wall and never got up again.

    Was sold to the Imperials shortly afterwards, church wanted to make money and I was, 'exotic.' Sith thought if they could put cheap cybernetics into me, surely it'd work for others."

    Matayn visibly grimaced before continuing.
    "The Imperials were despicable. Their cybernetics ended up being too expensive, so the project was cancelled half-way through, and as you can see-"
    Matayn tapped her synthflesh that covered the eyeless socket.
    "A lot of things did not work out. Even if I could afford a new eye, I'd never be able to use it to see."

    Matayn hesitated after that, the next part being visibly difficult to continue with. Her leg was shaking with nervousness, and likely her entire upper body would've been stricken with shaking if she still had enough natural flesh and nerves to shake. Gritting her teeth, she continued whether Daxim offered her the chance to stop or not.
    "Was sold again, to the Sith this time. There is a difference between the Sith and the Imperials, a big difference. I wasn't treated too badly by the Imperials, not by comparison to my time on Necropolis. But the Sith, I was less than an experiment there, less than even a slave. I was a body, and used as such."

    Matayn looked down then, not because of what she said, but because of what she was about to say. She wasn't proud of how she escaped, but she wanted to tell him anyway. Matayn was not sure why she wanted to tell Daxim, but she did.
    "I wasn't lucky, I didn't necessary 'escape' so much as remove my captors from existence. I wandered for a bit, then Hiro found me."

    Looking back up, Matayn finished.
    "That's almost everything."
  7. Ush

    Ush Active Member

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    Daxim listened, leaning forwards. His face gave away more and more of his shocked feelings as he listened. He eventually put his hand over his mouth to cover the fact it was wide open. Her story was shocking, horrible.
    "Necropolis... I thought it was just a story..."
    He blinked twice. Then, he began to talk.
    "What race was your father? Perhaps he was Force Sensitive, or had cybernetics or something? I can see you have... One... Two... Three hearts. Wow."
    He had noticed the multiple heart readings showing up for him, but now he looked. There they were, bright as day. Three hearts. Why did she need so many?
    "Actually, are those natural or synthetic?"
    What near-human race had three hearts? He couldn't think of any, not right then. But that was unimportant at that moment. Now, he had physiological problems of hers to deal with. You can study her insides later, Daxim. You're scaring her.
    His conscience made his eyes revert to basic, as opposed to advanced.
    "What sort of religion sells a young woman to someone like the Empire? The same type that does things worse to her than the Imperials themselves do, I suppose..."
    He sounded disgusted. What he felt was close to beyond words.
    "Vision receptors burned out? I only got my eyes because I didn't have anything to put in their place, usually eyes don't get touched when it comes to cybernetics. Too much can go wrong..."
    She started shaking. Daxim wanted to reach forwards and hug the poor girl, but she'd chosen the metal seat. She probably didn't want a male touching her at all after the things some had done to her. Instead, he sat on the very edge of the couch, watching her behind his hand and shocked expression. The Sith... He didn't even want to think about the things they'd have done to her. When she told him she had killed them, he wasn't even startled.
    "You bend something long enough, it breaks. My brother taught me that."
    He raised his eyebrows when she said Hiro found her.
    "When you say that Hiro found you, how, if you don't mind sharing?"
  8. Black Noise

    Black Noise BN

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    Matayn leaned back, allowing, or rather forcing, herself to be comfortable. The man's curiosity about her biology was not unlike the imperials, but his seemed to be out of concern and interest rather than directed, almost sinister questions like those that the man she knew so many years ago back with the Sith asked her. Scratching her head, she continued.
    "My father was a bastard race, a mix of so many near-human races that his true species is lost. Mother, I don't know what she was. But I know that all the genetics, even the bad ones, come from her. She was always so fragile, and her spirit so gentle. At least from what I remember, I was very young when she died. The hearts are natural, I don't know what species I am or why I have them though."

    Matayn was quiet for a moment, rubbing her blind spot for only a second before dropping her hand. He was right, and she was glad he was not judgmental of her. However, she still felt bad for what she had done in the Sith. After doing it, she often wondered if she were any better than them for doing what she did. Sighing, she continued.
    "Usually, I suppose. The Imperials, they wanted some sort of cheap way to make cybernetic soldiers, and cybernetic eyes supposedly would've been useful. Well, didn't work too well, I suppose I could be better off though."

    When Daxim mentioned Hiro, Matayn sat up a bit straighter and, for one moment, cracked a small smile. It was soon buried, however, under her dark expression as she responded.
    "It was back on Nar Shaddaa, one of the only places I could get to off Korriban for free. I was planning on robbing a store, and he was there. Hiro and a Zeltron named Ryloss. They convinced me to not do it, and gave me hope to actually live. I doubt I would've let myself live out the rest of that day if it weren't for the both of them. It was because of Ryloss speaking to me and Hiro's invitation that I'm here with the Rangers. I'm eternally in their debt, whether either know it or not."
  9. Ush

    Ush Active Member

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    Daxim nodded as she spoke. She seemed calmer now, but still more high-strung than he wanted her to walk out of the room feeling. He also kept began to write on his little notepad.

    Name: Matayn, no second name.
    Race: Mixture. Says her father was descended from multiple races, unknown amount. Mother belonged to a three-hearted race that is compatible with the father, assuming the blood was diluted back to base-human.
    Age: Appears mid-twenties
    Skin tone: Pale
    Hair color: Black
    Eye color: Purple, wears eye patch over one eye.
    Height: Appears about five seven, seems to be smaller.
    Weight: Heavy. NOTE: Slim build, multiple cybernetics.
    Diagnosis: Depression caused by abuse and loneliness.
    Homeworld: NECROPOLIS
    Past: Born on Necropolis. Suffered spasms at a young age, father took her to the local church. Mother resisted, father killed her (NOTE: FATHER APPARENTLY HAD FORCE POWERS OR CYBERNETICS, CHECK MIDICHLORIAN COUNT LATER for it. Was abused at the church, probably sexually and beaten. Was young at this age and I am drawing this conclusion due to her rage at it. Sold to Imperials for experiments regarding cybernetics. Project ran out of money, leaving Matarun with poorly done augments and a burned out eye. Synthflesh used to cover it, wears eye patch. Ended up with Sith, probably raped and tortured once more.
    Eventually broke, killed captors and fled. Encountered HIRO (NOTE: SPEAK WITH LATER) and a ZELTRON (NOTE: INQUIRE ABOUT BOTTLED PHEROMONES, MAY IMPROVE CONDITION) named Ryloss.

    Other: Fond memories of mother. Three hearts. Cybernetics along the majority of her body. Seems extremely scared but also curious of me.

    Obviously, he was just writing down what she was saying. He'd go into detail about it later, probably send a report to Hiro. Then he'd talk with the droid, see if he knew anything else that may help. He also drew a quick sketch of a human body with arms outstretched, as appearing on his HUD, and drew circles around the areas with Cybernetics. Basically all her body was circled. After a minute, he looked back up on her.
    "So, you mentioned a Zeltron. You know how Zeltrons can produce pheromones, right? It would be easy to find bottled ones here, although how they get them into it I have no idea..."
    Actually, that was a lie. A Zeltron or Faleen or Rodian was found and drugged. They were brought back to a room, put in a tank of some foul smelling liquid and were told they would only get access to air if they produced happy pheromones. After a day or two they were kicked out. Many died, though...
    At least, that's what the humane ones did.
    "Oh, and how long ago was this?"