Not long after Larra - or Nevell - left him lying helpless on the ground, Demon hears the footsteps of two people approaching. He can't see them but hear them talking in a language he is unable to understand. And he recognizes the language, they're Karee, members of Ta-vora's crew.
When they notice the paralyzed shapeshifter, they rush towards him. One of them picks him up and carries him away.

Aboard the Azula, they lay him onto a bed in the sickbay where a physican examines him. He injects something and soon after that, Demon feels the numbness leave his limbs.
“What happened?” the physican asks him.
“Not entirely sure ” Demon answers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ta-vora still sits in the bar with Page when his wristcom beeps.
“Kre, we found Demon paralyzed. We brought him aboard the Azula and our physicans were able to revive him. He believes Larra thinks he is dead and we can't reach her on her wristcom. If you see her, you can tell her he is alright.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
Page raises both eyebrows.
“It's not like her to just leave him. She's really acting strange recently.”
“Ayie, considering she did not try to defend her best friend from these Nirttefs but sat there like a scared lukri. And still she seemed very weakened afterwards.”
He then raises his wristcom to his lips, trying to call Larra. But no response.
“Strange ”
“Perhaps it is damaged?”
“You can shoot these things with an impulse blaster and they still work afterwards. Something's wrong with her ”

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

He wandered the passageways quickly, drawing strange stares as he walked into doors and other obstacles while he easily avoided people around him. After a few minutes, he found his way to a black market store and tried to find some more adequate clothing. With the “help” of the owner he was directed to a massive black cloak with more weapon storage space than a shuttle. He started to look it over with his hands but the storekeeper was quite vocal in his opposition. “Look buddy, you don’t go pawing my wares. This thing is valuable and I can’t make an exception for a blind man or everybody would be stealing my best stuff. Pay for it or forget it.”

The man glanced sadly at the owner who was undoubtedly using his blindness to earn a few extra pennies in his pocket. Well, it was fair enough, whatever you could do. After a soft sigh, he brought out a tiny item from his pocket and placed it in the other man’s hand. “What is the present conversion rate? I think twenty-one grams ought to cover whatever exceptional cost you planned on charging me.”

The owner looked down at the cubic centimeter in his hand with disbelief, gold had little value since the new space mines were opened decades ago but pure platinum was still worth a good deal. A kilogram could easily buy a small ship. The owner’s countenance became much more friendly in an instant. “Is there anything else you would like, sir?”

“I assume you also pedal weaponry on the side?” Without waiting for confirmation he made his request; “I’d like a Mark-C126 high caliber laser weapon.” It was a strange request for a blind man, the high power sniper weapon was large and bulky, never used in a ship for fear it would destroy the hull, and with a little work it could probably breach even the Rock. The white eyed lunatic had no doubt that the store owner was carrying a few dozen in stock.

“Well sir, that’s a difficult request you see they aren’t exactly approved by even station authorities, we’d need a drop-off point arranged, and that would be if I even had one, which I don't.” He glanced around praying that no one was paying attention to their bugs in his store.

“Listen, I’ll be waiting in the fourth stall on the left in the public restroom down the hall. I’ll also have a kilogram of pay waiting for you.” Greed gleamed in the other man’s eyes. “I’ll even provide you enough bribe to pay off whoever has bugged your store.” With that he slipped four more small cubes, which were pocketed instantly. “Get it to me in fifteen minutes.” The other man was obviously far too greedy to turn down a kilogram, it was doubtful that he earned that much in most months.

The blind man walked into the public restroom, still getting strange looks as he stumbled purposefully along. With the combination of his speed and carelessness, he must have broken every bone in his body along the way but it didn’t even slow him down.

The restroom itself was a strange marvel. It was often used for it’s official purpose but nearly as often was a rendezvous point for black market sales, prostitutes, and any other kind of seedy use the station dwellers could find. The man stepped up to the blue growth in which he had arranged to acquire the weapon. Like all the other “stalls,” it was an opaque half dome, undoubtedly heavily bugged so that the officials on the station could exact bribes for whatever dealings went on in it. He calmly stepped inside and latched the traditional metal slider. Some things never changed.

After a few minutes had passed and a knock came from the outside. The man unlatched it and the owner waltzed in with a cleaning boy’s suit on and a cart which presumably held the weapon. “Where’s the money? You don’t know how stupid I feel wearing this ugly uniform.”

“I’m glad you were willing to suffer so much for my sake,” the man replied politely before tossing him a few baseball sized spheres, “that ought to cover your expenses for a few months.”

The black market man caught the small objects with difficulty, but he did catch them. “Just so you know the store’s always open for business with you. I rarely get a customer who doesn’t threaten my life enough to cause me to undercharge. It’s hard to make a living out here. As a sign of my goodwill, you can even keep the cart to carry it out.”

The blind man replied absently, “Thank you, I’ll do that.”

“Yeah, well I’ll just get back to my shop. Otherwise the kid I left in charge will probably have carried out his weight in, umm, clothing goods.” With that the slightly fat man left.

The blind man sighed, perhaps at the state of the universe, perhaps at the greed and stupidity of the man who had just left. Whatever had depressed him, he still used full advantage of the small space and relative privacy to assemble his outfit to his liking.

Just as he was preparing to step out he paused as a new life played through his head, this one different enough to make him think.

The man walked behind the woman facing the wall, he was anything but alone. He had orders to just block her way and, if necessary, to use the paralyzing darts to stop any attackers, for some reason he had been warned especially against dogs. It didn’t make much sense, but he was getting paid and it didn’t even sound too dangerous. Then the woman looked up and saw him and the others blocking her way. She exchanged a few words with the boss and acted pissed, but she was just a girl. She didn’t even have real weapons just fancy knives or something, but just in case he drew his dart gun a little early. That was pretty luck for him it turned out. He was holding just beside him as he heard a clatter, he whirled quickly and shot at the dog that was lunging for him. “I guess the warning against dogs made sense.” Now the woman looked straight at him, she may have been just a woman but he was scared, he wanted to apologize, to say the dog would be all right. He knew, however, that the boss would have him killed slowly if he did so he kept quiet. He really wanted to run but he’d probably die for that too. Then she dropped her swords and spouted some nonsense syllables. It hurt, he tried to scream but he couldn’t, he felt urine pouring into his pants and he tried to stop it. “What will they think of me? The guys’ll laugh.” He didn’t know he was dying, he’d never seen anyone die like that before.

The blind man felt the death of every one of the armed thugs, and cursed silently. “I have a sick mind if I created a psychotic Acaran and a soulless with a soul on the same station. I guess this universe is as doomed as the rest even if it isn’t real. Too bad, even my hallucinations can’t be relaxing.” The man finally unlatched the door and walked out as a woman walked into the stall he had just vacated staring at him strangely. He was now clothed in a bright multi-colored patch robe and carrying a brightly gleaming transparent walking stick. He continued to draw stares all the way into the bar where he had arrived.

(This message has been edited by Paranoid (edited 08-05-2004).)

Unopposed, Nevell strode down the corridors of the Rock, almost cheerfully kicking over tables and slashing merchandise and people alike to pieces. Even the hardiest of the asteroid’s pirates would back off when the shadowy figure approached. It was exhilarating to finally be able to do what he wanted, when he wanted.

One brave spacer grabbed a sword from a weapon’s table and lunged at Nevell, blade held in front of him. The Acaran turned, somehow managing to act in a fashion that was almost leisurely, and swung one of Larra’s long, curved swords.

The pirate’s sword shattered on contact with the newly blackened blade, allowing it to continue smoothly through its bearer’s head without even a snag of resistance.

Paying no attention to the mess of blood and brains that fell at his feet, Nevell raised Larra’s sword and examined it. “I always knew she wasn’t aware of the usefulness of these blades,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t think I could channel power through them like this. It just shows what my race has dwindled to without me.”

Without a word, the Fourth Telepath turned on his heel and continued on towards the No Name Bar. As he neared the entrance, a new thought entered his mind. They won’t hurt her, Nevell decided. But they will try to dethrone me. He could put a stop to that as well...

Halting, Nevell raised one sword, and plunged it through the shadows, deep into his heart. The black figure did not stumble or keel over as a result of the action. Instead, he calmly removed the blade from his chest. The shadows over the wound had stilled and were now like a rock in a stream, unmoving as the others flowed around them.

Nevell smiled grimly. As long as he held power, the shadow shield would remain. The moment he lost control, the wounds inflicted on the shield would pass through and cause real damage. Bottom line: If he fell from power, Larra would die.

The Dark Acaran continued on, stopping right in front of the closed door, a psychological barrier separating the patrons of the No Name from the black market running outside. Smiling, Nevell reared back and hurled the right sword at that barrier. The blade did not spin, but flew with the point first, rotating slightly on a horizontal axis.

Inside the bar, patrons ducked under their tables as the black sword exploded through the door, sending pieces flying and leaving a good sized hole behind it. The weapon sailed through the air, sticking deep into the back wall. As if on cue, the door suddenly crumbled into fine dust.

Grinning nastily, Nevell stepped through the empty frame. He extended his right hand, calling the sword in the wall to come back to him. The weapon obeyed, and the Fourth Telepath caught it, then flipped the blade back and rested it on his shoulder. Four sharp cracks echoed through the bar has he banged the edge of the left sword on the ground.

Ta-vora and Page exchanged a shocked glance as they recognized both the swords and figure covered in shadows. What wasn’t familiar was the dark energy signature that seemed to pulse from her.

OOC:I have such great timing...I will have no computer access, starting tomorrow and ending sunday or monday. Have fun, and I'll end this when I get back. Larra's just a bit faster and stronger than usual, but now uses telepathy more actively and will slip in dark magic. Also, she'll fight really dirty...er...more so than usual, I mean.

Bye!

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

Squiggy woke with a start when the sword hit the wall. Bleary-eyed, he glanced at Nevell with disinterest, then set his face back down on the counter. He brought one hand up and lazily dipped a finger into a mug in front of him, swirling the amber ale absent-mindedly. On the bar before him sat two dozen pints of synthale waiting to be served to patrons.

After all, Squiggy's offer still stood: anyone who wanted a drink could take one, and his friend the Hacker would generously pick up the tab.

"I guess nobody wants any..." Squiggy mumbled to himself, licking his finger. "Fine ale, too..."
Well, then here's a toast to all the attractive women in this world Squiggy thought to himself as he lifted a mug in silent toast -unwittingly- to Nevell, who was currently in complete possession of the attractive Acaran's body.
Squiggy poured the mug's contents down his throat and grabbed another.

========

(HMMMM... YES.... THE IDEAS ARE COMING.... ER>>>>... STILL TO BE EDITED WITH MORE "HARDLY RELEVANT" CONVERSATION BETWEEN JACEY AND BISHOP)

========

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.
- Hal

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-06-2004).)

Yume blinked as she glanced back to where a creature stood who had come in with quite a blast. She only blinked and raised a brow at how dark the creature seemed to be. It had been quite a while since she had seen such a deep depth of darkness...

And just for a second, she felt a sting in her chest and then a pulsation but she tried to hold it back and control it. With a great effort, she was able to control it and sighed heavily as it seemed to have reacted by the dark powers of the creature who had come.

She wondered for a moment as she watched now as this had caught her attention since it made her own mysterious powers respond to the one who had come. She had seen this creature before but something was obviously different about it.

This whole thing seemed to have spelled "trouble" but she did nothing of it as she leaned back and watched to see what would happen next. She wondered if she would have to get involved as she felt a stirring deep within her... But she tried to ignore it for the moment as she stared at the oncoming scene before her.

Ta-vora is shocked by Larra's appearance.
“Larra? Are you okay?” he asks.
“Just fine!” comes the answer, but the voice sounds strange.
“Larra, what happened to you?”
“Larra is gone! I am Nevell! I'm here to take my revenge and for that I'll kill you both!”
Both, Ta-vora and Page jump up as Larra - or Nevell - raises his/her blades.
“What is going on with her?” Ta-vora quietly asks Page.
“Not sure ” Page replies.
Page draws his mighty sword and Ta-vora follows his example, extending his Crescent Sword.
Nevell only laughs.
“For your information, your little knives can't hurt me and should you still succeed in killing me, you'll also kill her.”
With that Nevell lurches forward, swinging the swords expertly and blocking every strike. After a short fight, the dark Arcaran uses a telekinetic attack to throw Ta-vora onto the next wall, where he drops to the ground, unconscious.
Nevell now concentrates on Page, ignoring Ta-vora for a moment. A big mistake.
His training as a Ka-nuth also enabled Ta-vora's body to recover quickly from physical damage, so he wakes up after a short time.
If I can't kill you, I'll just render you helpless
With this thought, he pulled out a small, disk-shaped device that has a diameter of about 10 cm and is about 2 cm thick. It is made out of gleaming metal surrounding a red crystal. Ta-vora pushes a button and the crystal starts to glow.
Good thing I always have one of these with me. Sorry Larra
At an instant where Nevell is standing with his back to Ta-vora, he throws the device and uses his telekinetic abilities to guide it onto the shadowed body. As soon as it touches it, it sticks to it. Nevell backs away from Page and looks at Ta-vora. He then tries to get hold of the device stuck to his back, but before he succeeds, the crystal's glow becomes stronger. A scream of horror escapes Nevell's mouth as the device surrounds him with a thick layer of a red, crystaline substance. Seconds later, he is frozen solid in the crystal, his head still turned back and his mouth open from the scream. The shadows that were swirling about here now stand still. Any movement about her had been frozen.
All patrons in the bar, except for the sleeping Squiggy, had watched the capture and looked shocked at the red crystal, which was swirling lazily.
Page's eyes, too, widened when he whitnessed what happened. Now he approaches the scurrile statue and extends a finger to touch it. It feels cold.
He looks at Ta-vora.
“What is that?”
“A matrix trap. Good thing I had it with me.”
“Is she still alive?”
“Yes. Don't worry, she's well kept in there.”
“Then I just hope she or he can't get out of this thing.”
“I doupt this. The trap was fully charged, so her mind should be inactive. Demon once got trapped in one of these things, but it wasn't fully charged, so only his body was disabled. These crystals work just like a cryogenic stasis.”
Ta-vora raises his wristcom to his lips.
“Azula, I have a trapped person to be brought aboard. Send me someone to pick it up. And preper a holding cell for it.”
“Ayie, Kre.”
A few minutes later, two crewmembers from the Azula enter the bar, attach a repulsor to the crystal and carry it away. Page and Ta-vora follow them.
While they walk, Ta-vora again speaks to Page: “She was indeed acting strange during the recent days. It started with that strange ship that showed up during your duell with Jacey and this pirate. Then she didn't interfere when the Nirteffs attacked her best friend. And now she's possessed by something. I assume you know more about such stuff than I do. Demonic attacks were not part of my training. Do you have any idea what happened to her?”

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

Squiggy awoke to find himself soaked in 22 pints of alcoholic beverage. Looking for the attractive woman he had seen earlier, Squiggy laughed when he couldn’t find her. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.”

==========

“...so as I was saying, you’ve allowed yourself to be distracted long enough.”

Jacey had broken out in a cold sweat.

Bishop had just finished lecturing Jacey on adolescent relationships, basing his criticism of Jacey’s infatuation with Yume on Freudian theories of sexuality and the human psyche.

Jacey felt very uncomfortable after hearing all of this.

“So you see, my friend, you are either manipulating her for an inner desire you have mistaken as love... OR she is manipulating you for a similar reason. Either way your budding relationship with this girl is a distraction.”

Jacey shifted his stance and adjusted his posture.

“And as you must understand by now, the time for distractions has ended. I expect the bounty hunter attack will come soon, and if I can activate my ship and reach my contact at the Zachit base of operations, then we will be well prepared. Well prepared indeed. If only that fool engineer would show up...”

Jacey wanted to go back to the first topic.
“Uh, Bishop? Could I at least try to explain how I feel about her? I mean, maybe it is a little early in my life to be thinking about this - like you said - but I’ve been waiting a long time to meet someone who fascinates me the way Yume does.”
While Jacey wished he could have expressed himself better, Bishop s######ed at Jacey’s choice of words.
“She may be the one you’re looking for,” Bishop said with a smile, “but” - his expression soured - “she’s not the one we are looking for.”

==========
Squiggy ran with all the speed an intoxicated human being could muster.

“Instead, we are looking for a fugitive - the same one the Zachit are looking for on the Rock. Interact more with the other patrons. I still believe that the criminal we are looking for is hiding at the same bar you’ve been visiting lately.”

Jacey secretly hoped it wouldn’t be Page.

“And don’t disregard any women you meet either. Women themselves can be very manipulative,” Bishop continued as he remembered a girl he had run into years ago...

----------

“Now’s not the time for a flashback, Bishop...”
“...Huh?”
“You’ve been staring into space for about ten seconds now.”
“...oh... Where was I?”
Bishop looked past Jacey’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you deemed now as important a time as any to show up.”
“Huh?” Jacey turned around to see whom Bishop was addressing and saw a man in purple crouched about three feet behind him.

“Jacey, meet Squiggy, the brilliant engineer who will be teaching you how to pilot our new vessels. He’s really a very brilliant, brilliant engineer.” Bishop’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Jacey, however, wasn’t done speaking about Yume. “Oh... that’s cool... But could-”
“- no need to flatter me any more,” Squiggy interrupted as he began to blush.
“Yea... yea... but could I please at least write one more poem to her before I stop-”
“-kid, you don’t need poetry if you want to get lucky with a girl.” Squiggy interrupted. “Just use some of this..” Squiggy pulled out a flask of his strongest liquor.

“Sure!” and before Squiggy could stop him Jacey had already drunk half the bottle.
Squiggy shook his head.
Bishop laughed.
“Jacey, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”
“Hey, no worries! I think I’m alright!”
Jacey fell to the ground. Squiggy poked him. The boy was out cold.

“Just as well, Squiggy. You and I have to discuss the biomechanics of the ship you’ve built me, and it would have bored the kid to death anyway.” He turned to look at Jacey. The boy was smiling in his sleep.

“Hmmmm... better wake him up after all.”
Squiggy pulled out a second flask from beneath his robes and poured a few drops into Jacey’s snoring mouth. Jacey woke up instantly.
“Hey, what are you doing?! I was having an awesome dream!”
Bishop looked back at him skeptically and asked, “Really? And what perverted fantasy was twisting its way through your mind?”
Squiggy grinned, eager to hear all about it.
“NOTHING!!” Jacey yelled. “It was a vision of the girl I am madly in love with and nothing more. Something that will inspire me to write another poem for her. Not even you, Mr. Freud, can write that off as some evil animalistic tendency.”
“Give me a moment and I’ll try.” Bishop joked.
“I don’t appreciate that.”
“Then go back to the bar. It’s about time you returned to your girlfriend,” Bishop teased.
“Screw you! I’m about to forget what I want to write!”
“Hurry up then, I’m sure she’s already missing you.”
“I still don’t like the way you’re treating me."
“Cry me a river, Romeo.”

Jacey began to walk away. Bishop spoke to him in a gentler tone.
“Jacey, wait a second. I think you could probably use these.” Bishop took two items from inside his robes and handed them to Jacey, who looked at the two gifts Bishop had given him.
In his palms he held a pen and a crumpled sheet of paper.
Bishop looked down at Jacey, winked at him, and ruffled his brown hair.
“Good luck, kid.”
Not letting Bishop see the smile on his face, Jacey turned quickly and continued on his way.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.
- Hal

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-07-2004).)

Yume was fixing the door which had been destroyed by the creature who had a very deep dark pulsation coming from it. She put the new door in place and played with it a little just to make sure it was put on right. Well, she was the janitor... so this kind of stuff was part of her job.

After she finished, she took a glance to her employeer who just nodded to her to say that the door looked fine before Yume would start to clean up the pieces of trash and material that had been caused by the fight.

The fight had been quite interesting. The creature with the dark pulsations was skilled with the blades. Too bad she didn't get to get a chance at it. Yume herself was good as blades as she glanced down at the dagger in her boot.

After she finished in cleaning the bar as best she could, she headed back towards her seat only to be blocked by a group of drunk males with their arms across their shoulders.
Yume at first tried to get around them but they kept swaying this way and that.

After a while, Yume got fed up in trying to go around them and instead try to go right through the group which were blabbering about something and hadn't even noticed that they have been blocking Yume's path.

Not a good idea. Because just as she thought she was about to break the link between their arms, she felt a smack and nearly jumped as she rubbed her bottom. She glared at the man who had done that to her and the man just grinned at her. Showing her his messed up teeth.

"You gotsa fine butt missy..."

The men just bursted out in laughter and Yume tried to ignore them as she tried to push through them again only to be pinched this time.

That was the last straw for her and she was about to punch the man who had done that to her only to have an arm wrap around her shoulders.

Yume stubbled a little as the man put his weight upon her since she hadn't been ready for the extra pounds put on her shoulders.

The men just cheerfully started to sing as they swayed side to side while trapping Yume in their little bunch as they drank their mugs.

Yume just let out a heavy sigh as she was forced to sway with them. The men didn't really seem to be causing any trouble. They were just having fun and having a jolly time.

Yume was just glad they were too drunk to actually hit upon her and only wanted her to be cheery with them cause they had been watching her and she hadn't smiled once.

Yume's back was starting to ache a little because the men were putting their weight upon her and she fidgeted every so often just to get comfortable or just to see if she could slip out from under them with no success.

"Someone save me from this torture..." Yume sighed as she spoke mentally out to thin air and hoped she would be released soon. She was getting sore.

And for a moment, she almost hoped that Jacey would come through the door right now and be her savior.

It was quite clear she was not enjoying this and was in a bit of discomfort and unease.

------------------

(This message has been edited by Seraphim (edited 08-07-2004).)

(This message has been edited by Seraphim (edited 08-07-2004).)

He listened. What else could a blind man do, but listen? “I have only myself to blame. Suicide should be something of an art, without any failures. Next time I’ll get it right, I hope.” It didn’t truly matter, he got along well enough. He knew when the creature entered the bar in all its splendorous melodrama and he knew when it was easily captured. Both melodramatic and anti-climactic, it didn’t matter, none of it mattered. It was just an illusion, he knew that, but still the girl he had attempted to attack, she was unique in his experience. The rest were all repeats, even the Vellos world-traveler and the Acaran demon-prince. He had seen things like them before, but never a counterpart of the tormented girl.

He listened carefully for her picking her breath out from a few steps away. He drew a picture of the scene in his mind. There four middle-aged men, with very drunken smelling breath, surrounded her. She was close, but not close enough for him to reach quickly, so he stood up and leaned on a table nearer to her. She had much more restraint then a normal soulless; the offenders should have been as dead as the Acaran’s irritants. Most likely she was thinking ahead and wondering how the bar owner (her boss? She seemed to be some sort of employee, but she rarely worked) would react. It was doubtful he’d enjoy a slaughtering of innocent patrons, but still it was impressive. He was close enough now to interfere with the men or to stop her from killing them if she decided that she was done. He didn’t want to be seen as some sort of savior though, it was dangerous to interfere with such a childlike soul in such a powerful body. He wouldn’t help her, but if they needed help he could save the men. Far safer to be thought of as a demon then a savior, besides he wanted to see how well she reacted. A test of her soul that didn’t endanger anyone but him was something that probably wouldn’t happen again. He wondered if anyone else would help her, but the bar patrons were to drunk to notice or care. After that thought he downed his drink and set it on the empty table behind him, it would only get in the way.

------------------
Life, Death. What's the difference?

Yume was getting fed up with the group of men and now started to struggle. Her side that had emotions and, perhaps a conscious?, kept her from hurting the men for the moment. And besides, she didn't want to clean up their blood and guts from the floor.

The men just thought she was playing around as they kept singing cheerfully. One finally just slump full against her and nearly fell asleep.

Yume frowned a little as she wondered if she should just let her void state take over for a moment so that she could give the man who seemed to be sleeping against her a good beating.

But instead, she just slammed her foot onto the man's foot and the man wailed out in pain as he jumped on one foot while he held onto the other.

Yume thankfully caught his mug before it fell to the floor while she watch the man fall over right smack onto his face. Yume wasn't fazed and didn't seem to care as she stared at the other three men who didn't even seem to notice she just hurt one of their buddies.

Yume wished she could just grab her dagger and plunge it into each one of them but she held back that need of killing and violence as she realized her void side was starting to come out.

She always tried to have a little bit of each and not let one overtake the other.

One man just finally grabbed her and lifted her over his shoulders as he gave her bottom a good smack. A bad idea...

Yume frowned as she hated when men played with her or messed with her as she reached for the S-shaped weapons she had in the rim of her skirt. She was going to slice his head off if he didn't put her down which he wouldn't since he was too drunk to see that the group were playing with some lethal.

Like how small, naive children would play with a poisonous snake without even realizing it and not even taking notice of the snake's rattle.

Yume also struggled not to raised her legs or spread them since she was in fact wearing a skirt. But then again, she started to kick her legs as she didn't care just as a warning to the man to let her down or else she would slice his throat as her hand clenched her weapon.

Yume didn't even notice the blind man had come back. She was too intent in getting away from the cheerful and jolly group of men since Jacey wouldn't come back any time soon. She had just wanted someone else to help her so that she wouldn't have to resort to violence.

Half way on the way to the Azula, Ta-vora noticed that he was missing his Crescent Sword. He had lost it when Larra or Nevell had thrown him onto the wall and forgot to pick it up.
He enters the bar just in time to see Yume struggling to get free from the drunk man. He picks up the sword and retraces it.
Then he approaches the singing men, who stood with their backs to him. He taps the one that holds Yume on the shoulder. The drunk turns his head.
“Whaddaya want, pal?” he asks.
Because of the divertion, his grip on Yume loosens enough for her to get free.
“I think you better leave that woman alone.”
“Give me a good reason why ta do that?”
“Because you don't want her to slice your head off?”
The men break into loud laughter but stop immediately when they notice the weapon in her hand. All three of them gulp. The one that had lift her up mumbles some appologies. Together, they lift up their unconscious friend and leave the bar.
When Ta-vora passes her to leave the bar, too, Yume gives him a grateful look and thanks him mentally. The Ka-nuth nods, smiling slightly.
“Anytime.” he says and exits the bar.

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

(This message has been edited by Ta-vora (edited 08-07-2004).)

(This message has been BALEETED! by JaceySquires (edited 08-07-2004).)

Please follow the (url="http://"http://homestarrunner.com/expfilm.html")link(/url).

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-07-2004).)

Yume watched as the creature who had helped her exit the bar. She put back her weapon into the rim of her mini-skirt with a quick movement as she fixed her mini-skirt.

She was relieved to finally be out of those men's bad breath and body heat. But she wouldn't deny she had a sense of satisfaction when the men caught sight of her weapon, at least now they'll leave her alone.

Yume then caught sight of the blind man and stared at him for a moment. He looked different and she wasn't exactly sure if that was the same man that had tried to attack her.

Her face was expressionless as she stared at him for a few seconds... as if thinking before she turned and started to walk away as she let her emotions fade away. Even if he was the same man, why should she care?

She took a seat at a nearby table. No sense in taking a seat next to The Hacker again, it was not like she was going to actually talk to him or anything. She placed her elbow on the top of the table and rested her head in her hand as she closed her eyes while a few strands of her hair fell into her face.

If any other had touched her earlier on, she would have felt warm like any other human-looking creature but now her warmth was fading away to leave a coldness that only death could give but she was indeed alive and well.

She found herself lost in deep thought once more as she had nothing else to do. Hopefully other men would stay away from her now that they knew that she had a weapon and wasn't afraid to slice their heads off.

And as she was in deep thought, her void state was mostly what she was in and in this state she held no warmth whatsoever. She was as cold as any soulless...but she did have emotions... didn't that argue if she had a soul or not?

It could be confusing at times since she did have a void side and a side of emotions along with perhaps a concious... What did she think herself? She thought she had no soul. Besides, some of her parts were mechanical while most of her parts were flesh, organs and bones. She wasn't sure what kind of species she got her body from.

Perhaps, she was another species... one that was alone and an outcast among others. Although she did have a place where she belonged. Only problem was that she was the only one in it. Did this bother her? Who knew...

All she wanted to know was who created her, why, and what her purpose was in being. Although she already had a good guess on her purpose... except that she wasn't all that fond of it.

Jacey held back tears as he turned down the street toward the No Name. He felt torn by his conflicting senses of emotion and duty. Not tormented. Not tortured. Simply confused. So much more incredibly confused than he had ever been in his life. This wasn’t about Yume. No. Jacey believed this was about something greater than himself, even greater than the girl he thought he loved. At least... he hoped it was something greater.

Jacey entered the bar with a bright smile on his face until he saw Yume resting quietly by herself.
“I’ve got something for you...” Jacey almost said to her; he remembered he hadn’t written anything yet. Jacey smiled weakly as he imagined how he would have tried to save face.

He spotted an empty seat by the blind man and excused himself before sitting down.

Raising their heads to face each other, Jacey and the blind man spoke simultaneously.
“Life’s depressing when you’ve seen it all before, isn’t it?”
A wry smile curved the blind man’s lips.

What all could a blind man have truly seen?

He knew Jacey craved so many things - above all attention - like so many boys his age. Jacey certainly seemed young, for his outward confidence secretly begged for him to be treated as an adult. He was naive. He was no different from anyone else, and like the rest he too would try too hard to stand out.
After all, it was second nature for Jacey to be dramatic.
It was second nature for him to try too hard.

The blind man sighed as Jacey reached into his pockets and placed two items on the table. He listened to the frantic scratching of the pen on paper. Then listening to Jacey’s short, even breaths, he understood the boy all too well as Jacey tried too hard now to add depth to his own character.

What else could a blind man do, but see the truth?

------------------
...to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
(Mt7:8)

It wasn’t easy to fade into the background wearing his garishly colored patched robe, he wished silently that he had never worn it. It didn’t matter, none of this was real. Besides, the robe may have made him easy to spot but it also made him easy to discredit, an eccentric blind man. How would he know what his robe looked like? He wore the cursed cloak in memory, once it was a symbol of peace and a memory of the past. Now it was a symbol of the burden of his pathetic naivety, his blindness to reality. The soulless glanced at him with a calculating look, she had come very close to murder. She also seemed to suspect him of something. “Stupid bastard, you shouldn’t have allowed that much. You should have protected her. You just fear being held up as a hero as much as you fear living.” It didn’t matter how he chastised himself, it never had.

The girl was introspective now, the battle was inconspicuous but he knew what had happened: her nature fought her humanity. Something must have gone wrong in the “programming” that wouldn’t normally happen. That could not be the whole story, something had created a soul within her, beyond all chance. She had a piece of her that was human. It mattered; she had to be the solution to this puzzle. Perhaps it was time for some analysis.

_The target obviously didn’t know he was being followed. It was working out perfectly, but it was still a good idea to be careful. The target ordered around the evacuation with rapid telepathic commands. The assassin couldn’t “hear” them but he saw the people quickly moving away to obey, leaving the target alone. The assassin walked up openly to the target, being eleven years old helped everyone to trust him. It helped, but this man saw something in him, probably due to his abilities and yelled for him to halt. No matter, it still was an easy target. He walked forward without pausing, and his opponent drew a sword, it might have impressed another person but the assassin continued walking. The man shouted and lifted his hands probably trying to use his reportedly large telepathic powers. The assassin didn’t even slow down the man looked in amazement before swinging his sword at the young boy, still not realizing the danger and just trying to scare him. The boy lunged forward and jumped into the slice catching the sword between his forearms and snapping it effortlessly before breaking the target’s neck with a swipe of his hand. He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see his other target, too easy. This man was even less conspicuous wearing a multi-colored robe designed to attract attention. He was a foolish leader for a revolutionary escape, but no one knew anything about him. A wildcard. This man didn’t try to stand and fight, for all his legendary powers he turned and ran. The boy didn’t care he picked up the blade he had snapped and threw it like a javelin into the coward’s neck, the blade stuck but the man kept running. This might be more difficult then the assassin had anticipated.

The man had run quickly to a rickety ship as colored as his cloak, and taken off. He’d need to destroy the vessel before he jumped the system. A freighter was being loaded with escaping refugees a few hundred yards away so he ran toward it, but somehow word of his assassination must have gotten out because the guards drew guns. They were clumsy projectile weapons but he couldn’t cross the space quickly enough so he dodged behind a side of the ship. He was near the engine; it wasn’t a advantageous position, unless he made it one. He had kept the hilt of the broken sword and he used it now to punch his way through the metal into the wiring beneath. The ships were redundant enough that the loss of one engine would be harmless; that was good because he needed the ship. Within a minute he had reassembled the device to his standards and he charged the guards protecting the ship. These guards were also hesitant to shoot a little boy, but they pulled the triggers before he got within killing range. It didn’t save them, he had redesigned the engine assembly into a makeshift shield, it would only last for a few minutes, but projectiles wouldn’t pierce it. He quickly killed all four guards before entering the ship, armed with one of their weapons.

The work that followed was messy. He got to the engine room first and killed the crew there, then jury-rigged the engines to launch before beginning the systematic murder of everyone on the ship. Any one of them could have killed him from behind or sabotaged the ship before he caught his second target. The nursery didn’t even give him pause as eighty children were killed. He ignored the babies in cribs, they weren’t able to stop him and would only waste time. Other then those few he killed all four thousand refugees on board the ship. Then he could finally turn his attention to the retreating target.

The brightly colored ship was not heading the right direction, it was heading right towards the sun which the boy’s masters had forced into a premature decay. The assassin didn’t want to die but if he abandoned his objective it would be worse. He would live. His masters made it very plain that failure would mean a lifetime of being subjected to “improvement tests”, and betrayal would lead to the same. He had already gone through the required tests, they were painful. His brain was now wired with transmitters so his masters could monitor his every thought. They were afraid of him, but he couldn’t harm them without being disabled and changed. He had to accomplish his objective or die.

The target’s vessel was flying closer to the potential nova, he didn’t seem to care about the load of radiation that was entering his vessel, either that or he had superior radiation shielding then the assassin’s freighter. The assassin would die in a few minutes and he knew it. The radiation was already taking him apart and the heat in the ship was past boiling. His enemies ship was no longer functioning, but either was his own. At least he had accomplished his objective._

A boy sat beside him and shook him out of the assassin's memories, he was broadcasting his life in one giant sob story and with so little control the blind man overlaid the child's words. "“Life’s depressing when you’ve seen it all before, isn’t it?” He vaguely remembered approaching Yume with anxiety, no that was the boy's memory. He pulled himself away and boxed his mind in. He remembered the name though, Dream. She had to be the way out of this illusion, and the boy was connected with her. Yet sometimes silence was the best way to communicate. He padded in a couple drinks and gave his name to the boy, no, he wasn't old but he was a man. He may not know what he had fallen in love with, but he wasn't the first. The blind man said one word of introduction, or perhaps to explain himself. "Matt."

Yet still even as the drinks arrived he thought back on them all, he knew everything they ever had. Even more frighteningly, he felt the emptiness of the dead boy’s thoughts. He carried him and countless others in his mind, continuously replaying them all. It was no wonder he was completely insane.

OOC: Would it make you feel any better if I told you I hadn't meant for it to be this long? Sorry...

------------------
I move along the path alone, without a friend, without a home.
Yet though this tortured path I roam, knowing that my mind doth foam;
in madness shall I ever seek, an answer for the poor and meek.

(This message has been edited by Paranoid (edited 08-07-2004).)

Jacey had stopped writing midway through the blind man’s reverie, but instead of paying any notice, the blind man continued his contemplation and his thoughts moved on. Meanwhile, someone else stayed behind entirely within Jacey’s consciousness. And there he remained, until the blind man sensed the arrogant spirit probing his mind without understanding its contents.

It thus would have been of little shock to the blind man (nothing surprised him any more) when Jacey next looked up at him with gray eyes that quickly darkened to black... if only the blind man could see them.

Lips moved but no sound came out, yet through the silence he heard Jacey speak:
“Your presence disturbs me, blind one, and therefore I hope that you are as mad as you appear to be. Jacey has much to think about right now, and rightfully so. Why then is it your self-appointed duty to know what troubles him? Maybe his thoughts seem trivial to you, as they sometimes are to me... but I at least have respect for the boy’s humanity. As should you.

For future occasions, I recommend that you have your thoughts stray elsewhere.

And, although you think you hear my every thought, I should very much like to speak to you in person. For, aware as I am that you believe you understand all, I doubt you understand what motivates me. And even if you do... I would enjoy the direct interaction with such a superior being.

Find me sometime. You know who I am.”

The blind man chuckled at this cliché finish to an overly dramatic one-sided conversation.

“Oh... one more thing: nice robes.”

The blind man sensed tremendous satisfaction in the speaker’s voice. No matter. It was a petty joke.

Jacey winked and his eyes were green again. “So your name’s Matt? Nice to meet you.” Jacey stood up and offered his hand for the blind man to shake.
His poem was done.

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-07-2004).)

She was staring at her target as the woman trembled in horror while the woman stared at the one that would cut her life short.
"Please don't... Please..."
Yume didn't listen to the woman as her objective was clear. She had to assassinate this woman at all costs. There was no exceptions and failure was not an option.
She could feel that chip in her head send a frequency to her creators and with a click of a button, they could render her helpless if she decided to not go through with her objective or betray them.
But that wasn't going to happen, she was completely obedient and besides, why did she want to betray them?
She had no such emotions, not even thoughts, so such an action wasn't truly possible.
Yume's eyes were void...empty...almost dead.. as she stared down at the woman as she raised her large blade while it flashed in the light.
Yume wouldn't know until later on that the woman had been innocent but had been in the way of her creator's plans.
Soon, bloodshed and the woman's screams which were soon cut short was all the was in the background...

----------

Yume's eyes shot open as her breathing had faltered for a moment before she calmed down and sighed heavily while she wiped the sweat that had appeared on her forehead. Another memory?, she wondered as she sighed heavily.

She placed her forehead down onto the cool tabletop, or that's what her thermal sensors registed to her, while her body started to become warm once more like any normal creatures as she came back to reality.

It had been so real to her. Perhaps it was a memory from the past. Yume sighed before she looked up and took a glance around the bar. She took only a brief glance towards the blind man who was shaking hands with another male but she didn't lool long enough to realize it was Jacey before her gaze strayed away.

With that done, she just let her head rest on the cool tabletop while she stared out at nothing through her strands of raven black hair.

Jacey crumpled the sheet of paper and tossed it lightly over to Yume, where it bounced off her head and landed in front of her face.

------------------
...to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
(Mt7:8)

Yume blinked as she felt something tap her head then saw something land in front of her face.

She raised her head and blinked before she caught sight of Jacey. How long had he been there? She wondered before she uncrumpled the paper to see if anything was written on it.

Why else would he throw trash at her? Heh...

(This message has been edited by Seraphim (edited 08-07-2004).)

Yume read the perfectly neat handwriting:

Please read the following - my attempt at coming back to you after having been away for so long.

-----

_I write to you this second time so all the world may know that after all the confusion, fears, and mistakes, my love continues to grow.

The second time frustrates me - it’s so much harder than the first.
Though I calculate my words and expressions, they refuse to fit, and my heart is ready to burst.

So, my sweet seraphim, my radiant light,
I throw myself to the ground, waiting at your feet,
ready to live, to die, to serve the one who will make my life complete.

While some say my love for you is shallow, mere lust, and will not last,
I beg you, oh my guardian angel, to remain with me until the temptation’s passed.

For even if they are correct, that my feelings are wrong, and what they say is true,
There’s one more part of you I still long to see: that beautiful spirit who I know dwells deep inside of you.

If I didn’t know you loved poetry so, I would write a love letter, a true confession that doesn’t have to rhyme.
If I had that choice, I could go far beyond the confines of poetry to show you a love that transcends space and time.

For my love is not figurative. It is real, and even though you are not mine, I am forever yours.
Reward my patience then with the greatest gift - your soul - and speak to me once more._

==========

Yume looked up and saw Jacey standing over her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Shatter my heart or leave it whole, Yume. Nothing expresses my feelings as well as the first time: I wait patiently, and I am yours.”

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(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-08-2004).)