01-02-2018, 09:41 AM
It had delved into the depths of the world, beyond where many of its finer folk would dare tread. Beyond where most of its army would go, even. The lower tiers of Coruscant were little more than a world of gang leaders and warring clans of criminals rather than a well-structured society. But it did not know or truly understand such things. What it saw, with eyes of silver-white and a particularly studious mind, were prey.
Soon-to-be victims of a crueler, darker master. A man missing here, a few missing there, it wouldn’t trouble the Empire too greatly to learn that its criminals were occasionally disappearing. And so long as no witnesses were left, all would be well.
Its part in the scheme was simply to observe. It would watch, whilst covered in shadows and mist, as others passed by. Some who wandered were simply lost, but many others held a purpose to their steps. Driven by addiction, by maliciousness, or simple desperation, the silver eyed creature witnessed them all.
And judged them accordingly.
For a night and a day, it observed, assuming many forms as it crept through allies and trudged through slums. Each time, it wore a different face. It liked experimenting, really. Sharp chins, squinted eyes, rounder ones with big ears, broad foreheads, or gaunt cheeks, it tested them all in varying combinations. The body, while similarly varied, did not seem so important as the face, it noted. Always, people observed an area that was a fraction of the whole of the being. It was odd, but the mischief it could cause was thereby incalculable. Sometimes it amused itself by taking on another’s form, approaching their friends, and bewildering them. It was valuable to do so to gain information, but such was only an excuse. The confusion it could spread was entertaining, whereupon people would swear they saw double for a moment, before the silver-eyed mimic vanished. The master may not appreciate its antics, but it was not here to say otherwise.
Or was it an “it?” Perhaps the master was a male, as he appeared, but he was one of them. Hmm, strange thoughts. Far too complicated to deal with. Best to let the matter be, it concluded.
It was an it, and he was a he. Yes, that would suffice.
It also learned to talk, and articulate itself more effectively. Accents were tricky, however. It seemed each area, each person, were unique in that regard. It had difficulty mimicking the mouth movements and the sounds it needed to emulate without having to fluctuate constantly. It was an annoyance, but it was something to improve on. It must become perfect at its purpose, or else the master would greatly disapprove of it. It couldn’t have that, it might die otherwise, and that would mean no more mischief.
It stopped in its tracks for a moment, listening for something. Its instincts told it to do so, and it often obliged, even if it seemed rather silly to stop in the middle of a bustling road of poverty-stricken pedestrians, beggars and homeless straddling the sidelines, and the occasional small-time gang hiding at their usual places around the archaic, weathered stone and concrete buildings that housed them all.
But then again, instinct was a great deal of what drove it. That and the search for prey were the core of its being. So when it told itself to stop and listen, it stopped and listened.
Passers-by brushed past it rather roughly as it stood stoically in the roadway, sometimes cursing that it was in the way. Eventually, it obliged by moving to the sides of the road and sitting, waiting, listening.
At first it didn’t know what to listen for, the sound of shuffling feet, chatting bystanders, zooming, flying cars, and the overall busyness were difficult to sift through. Though eventually, through some trickery of the ears - bending and shaping them in subtle, particular fashions that it would find difficult to explain - it heard it.
Rumors of monsters.
Was it, itself, a monster? Hrmm, another annoying question. Best to ask the master that one. It shrugged away the thought, then continued to listen to the trio speaking - or perhaps boasting was more accurate - across the way. A small gang, it seemed. They bragged about how they would fare against the monsters, if they even existed. One even claimed that it could wrangle one as a pet.
The monsters lurked the lower levels. And their description was rather fascinating. Spiky, misted in darkness, striking from the shadows, with glowing eyes that haunted people’s thoughts. Yes, all of that seemed rather familiar, in fact. How bizarre, and yet… vague.
Was that what it was listening for? It forgot why it stopped to peruse the conversations and rumors around it. It had done so many times already, and had learned much from them, but keeping track of them was like remembering the passage of time. Before, it was difficult, but here, in this underworld of the city where no natural light shone, it was impossible.
The master will know how, it supposed, then stood up and began walking again. Its work was far from done. There were more forms to copy, more targets to mark. Yes, much more to do.
Soon-to-be victims of a crueler, darker master. A man missing here, a few missing there, it wouldn’t trouble the Empire too greatly to learn that its criminals were occasionally disappearing. And so long as no witnesses were left, all would be well.
Its part in the scheme was simply to observe. It would watch, whilst covered in shadows and mist, as others passed by. Some who wandered were simply lost, but many others held a purpose to their steps. Driven by addiction, by maliciousness, or simple desperation, the silver eyed creature witnessed them all.
And judged them accordingly.
For a night and a day, it observed, assuming many forms as it crept through allies and trudged through slums. Each time, it wore a different face. It liked experimenting, really. Sharp chins, squinted eyes, rounder ones with big ears, broad foreheads, or gaunt cheeks, it tested them all in varying combinations. The body, while similarly varied, did not seem so important as the face, it noted. Always, people observed an area that was a fraction of the whole of the being. It was odd, but the mischief it could cause was thereby incalculable. Sometimes it amused itself by taking on another’s form, approaching their friends, and bewildering them. It was valuable to do so to gain information, but such was only an excuse. The confusion it could spread was entertaining, whereupon people would swear they saw double for a moment, before the silver-eyed mimic vanished. The master may not appreciate its antics, but it was not here to say otherwise.
Or was it an “it?” Perhaps the master was a male, as he appeared, but he was one of them. Hmm, strange thoughts. Far too complicated to deal with. Best to let the matter be, it concluded.
It was an it, and he was a he. Yes, that would suffice.
It also learned to talk, and articulate itself more effectively. Accents were tricky, however. It seemed each area, each person, were unique in that regard. It had difficulty mimicking the mouth movements and the sounds it needed to emulate without having to fluctuate constantly. It was an annoyance, but it was something to improve on. It must become perfect at its purpose, or else the master would greatly disapprove of it. It couldn’t have that, it might die otherwise, and that would mean no more mischief.
It stopped in its tracks for a moment, listening for something. Its instincts told it to do so, and it often obliged, even if it seemed rather silly to stop in the middle of a bustling road of poverty-stricken pedestrians, beggars and homeless straddling the sidelines, and the occasional small-time gang hiding at their usual places around the archaic, weathered stone and concrete buildings that housed them all.
But then again, instinct was a great deal of what drove it. That and the search for prey were the core of its being. So when it told itself to stop and listen, it stopped and listened.
Passers-by brushed past it rather roughly as it stood stoically in the roadway, sometimes cursing that it was in the way. Eventually, it obliged by moving to the sides of the road and sitting, waiting, listening.
At first it didn’t know what to listen for, the sound of shuffling feet, chatting bystanders, zooming, flying cars, and the overall busyness were difficult to sift through. Though eventually, through some trickery of the ears - bending and shaping them in subtle, particular fashions that it would find difficult to explain - it heard it.
Rumors of monsters.
Was it, itself, a monster? Hrmm, another annoying question. Best to ask the master that one. It shrugged away the thought, then continued to listen to the trio speaking - or perhaps boasting was more accurate - across the way. A small gang, it seemed. They bragged about how they would fare against the monsters, if they even existed. One even claimed that it could wrangle one as a pet.
The monsters lurked the lower levels. And their description was rather fascinating. Spiky, misted in darkness, striking from the shadows, with glowing eyes that haunted people’s thoughts. Yes, all of that seemed rather familiar, in fact. How bizarre, and yet… vague.
Was that what it was listening for? It forgot why it stopped to peruse the conversations and rumors around it. It had done so many times already, and had learned much from them, but keeping track of them was like remembering the passage of time. Before, it was difficult, but here, in this underworld of the city where no natural light shone, it was impossible.
The master will know how, it supposed, then stood up and began walking again. Its work was far from done. There were more forms to copy, more targets to mark. Yes, much more to do.