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- May 17, 2009
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The streets are crowded.
People swarm the square like busy insects and suddenly ;
they fall away, breaking from the center.
You would think death was contagious.
They avoid hints of it, like its dark visage spreads and multiplies through osmosis.
The epicenter makes itself known as the masses speak in hurried whispers, disbelief, "what happened?" 's and quiet panic.
A man has fallen, he seeps from the head and a woman screams, a baby at her chest and his limp body in her arms.
Another hits the ground; this one alive, this one, this time is at the hands of police.
Its a young woman, she wreathes and struggles, kicking and lashing out as two men in uniform force her physically to relent, Her shirt is pulled up above her stomach from resistance and her canines tear at one of the officer’s forearms.
They pull her away from the gawking audience, torn between their double feature and the girl; a Zabrak with a thorny crown and fierce eyes like molten gold shouts to them.
“ You all saw! “ She cries, the mother’s sorrowful moans mix with the murderer’s fury in a duet of anguish and fear.
“You all saw and you know what? You did nothing!”
Evie sat in the gloom of magic hour. She had been awake several minutes but had stayed, slouched at the foot of her bed with the memory replaying, looping into a mesh of regret. With a sigh she lay her face in her hands, gently massaging her fingers up and musing her thick hair in surrender.
Standing stiffly she made her way to the mirror across the room and began to ready herself for the day.
Her stomach lightly gurgled at the realization it was aboard a ship, however stationary.
Lifting up her tight ,white night shirt, she examined her back in the reflective surface. The wounds from her training in the guild were still visible, but healing nicely.
After she had outfitted herself and tied back her hair she was startled.
“Eecia…” she grinned ruefully at her own likeness. Letting her locks fall around her shoulders she relaxed.
“I’m sorry…”
A picture flashed across her mind's eye of her twin, her hair pulled tight and tidy, in her CorSec uniform and the warm ember of her eyes alight,
“I can only help you so many times before its hurting you.”
The words hung in the air as Stasha took her leave.
She zipped her top up to her collar bone as she made her way to the Jericho’s front.
Her first bounty would be her last encounter with her Sister; the woman she had ruined...
And the identity she had stolen.
People swarm the square like busy insects and suddenly ;
they fall away, breaking from the center.
You would think death was contagious.
They avoid hints of it, like its dark visage spreads and multiplies through osmosis.
The epicenter makes itself known as the masses speak in hurried whispers, disbelief, "what happened?" 's and quiet panic.
A man has fallen, he seeps from the head and a woman screams, a baby at her chest and his limp body in her arms.
Another hits the ground; this one alive, this one, this time is at the hands of police.
Its a young woman, she wreathes and struggles, kicking and lashing out as two men in uniform force her physically to relent, Her shirt is pulled up above her stomach from resistance and her canines tear at one of the officer’s forearms.
They pull her away from the gawking audience, torn between their double feature and the girl; a Zabrak with a thorny crown and fierce eyes like molten gold shouts to them.
“ You all saw! “ She cries, the mother’s sorrowful moans mix with the murderer’s fury in a duet of anguish and fear.
“You all saw and you know what? You did nothing!”
Evie sat in the gloom of magic hour. She had been awake several minutes but had stayed, slouched at the foot of her bed with the memory replaying, looping into a mesh of regret. With a sigh she lay her face in her hands, gently massaging her fingers up and musing her thick hair in surrender.
Standing stiffly she made her way to the mirror across the room and began to ready herself for the day.
Her stomach lightly gurgled at the realization it was aboard a ship, however stationary.
Lifting up her tight ,white night shirt, she examined her back in the reflective surface. The wounds from her training in the guild were still visible, but healing nicely.
After she had outfitted herself and tied back her hair she was startled.
“Eecia…” she grinned ruefully at her own likeness. Letting her locks fall around her shoulders she relaxed.
“I’m sorry…”
A picture flashed across her mind's eye of her twin, her hair pulled tight and tidy, in her CorSec uniform and the warm ember of her eyes alight,
“I can only help you so many times before its hurting you.”
The words hung in the air as Stasha took her leave.
She zipped her top up to her collar bone as she made her way to the Jericho’s front.
Her first bounty would be her last encounter with her Sister; the woman she had ruined...
And the identity she had stolen.
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