Dead in the Water (Open)

[Catalyst Echo]

Blessed are he who are speaks the word
Grateful that he can lead the herd
Dollars signs in the faithful eyes
The anti fate on day disguise
You're just a faker
No miracle maker
Holy behavior won't make you our savior

Smoke belching from the nearby water transport made his eyes water and his throat itch like he’d swallowed threaded metal. Still, the figure of the young man remained next to the arched, concrete support of the overhang. A hand, mottled with different hues of flesh, reds, and pale white lines, scars fed by the fires of his livelihood, rested uncertainly on the behemoth side of the support. The port was surprisingly inactive, given the time of day. He’d come here a thousand times before, and the groaning, massive structure had always bustled like an odd hive of eclectic insects.

But today seemed to be a hibernation of sorts, much to Eveyto’s relief.

Secret dealings were always best done with as few eyes to see as possible, right?

Fuck, who was he kidding? He knew nothing, nothing about secret dealings. The only thing that had led him here in the first place was the insistent pulse within his body, and the knowledge he wouldn’t get a good night’s rest until he did as the screaming deity commanded. Sweeping purple circles hung under sage irises in contrast, a screaming testament to his lack of shut-eye.
Sleep. Sleep would help him think more clearly, maybe stop him from plunging off this metaphorical bridge in suicide. The Shaux tribesman adjusted his clothes in a fidget, pulling the loose white shirt down. A vial of poison- the venom of the Kb’ah snake he’d killed on his last visit to Merdian.

His mind flitted back to the main streets of the city, to the small hotel where a Mr. Veshaun Retto and Mr. Gallius Mishio’le were staying. Fake names, of course. He’d known enough to insist the proud prince and himself assume false identities. Paper trails were so easy to follow..he’d followed them thousands of time in the pursuit of knowledge…

That, of course, had been a different kind of knowledge.
Impatiently, he smoothed his hand down the face of the sanded concrete, biting his lower lip. Ashar was lagging behind. Though, after he’d met eyes with that pretty lady on the corner last night, Eveyto’d had a feeling the shorter male would be running late in the morning. A sigh slid out of his throat.

This was going to be impossible. How in the hell did The Herald expect him to gather a massive army so quietly? On impulsive, he snatched a loose chunk of concrete and chucked it across the oiled surface of the harbor.

Vem would be here soon too, he knew. The first chink in the chain, he thought. The Force was only as strong as it was united, and from the years of hearing Vem complain, Eveyto knew that not all of the organization’s “employees” were as happy with the system as they pretended to be. He closed his eyes, trying to steady the palpitations of his heart. A part of him lurched every time he thought of the favor he’d asked.

With him, Vem was carrying some of the most classified information in the universe: part of the Blacklist, a stretching database of those that the force considered enemies. The act alone would probably get both of them killed

But otherwise, Eveyto mused, if they didn’t start this chain reaction, life wouldn’t be worth living anyway.

If we want a martyr
We'll come and find you
Come and find you
Done before you started
You're dead in the water
Walk on father out to sea
You're done before you started
You're dead in the water

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

Crowds didn't mesh well with Ashar.

He shouldered his way through the throngs of people as he attempted to rendezvous with Eveyto. He'd be waiting for awhile by now, not that Ashar really cared. If it was important, it'd be waiting for. As long as the man didn't complain, he wouldn't have a problem with arriving late. He certainly wouldn't regret it. A man mumbled some sort of curse in Ashar's direction as he pushed past a group of people, which grabbed his attention. He turned around, trying to see who the bastard who had said it was. Unfortunately,the man was much bigger than him. The Karioxan was riddled with battle scars and draped in trophies from what Ashar could only assume was the war. He bit back the remark he was about to make as the Karioxan grunted at him.

"You know...Next time watch where you're stomping. I wouldn't want you to ruffle my red carpet, speck."

He knew the title would enrage the giant. They didn't like anything that referred to their stature as small or insignificant. The remark could very well have gotten him killed, but his friends, two people that resembled humans struggled to hold him back. A wad of saliva dropped in his direction, but he slid his boot across the concrete just in time to avoid it. He wasn't about to be spit on by a lowly warrior like this one. He had standards after all. He straightened and smoothed his vest and pulled the large hood over his eyes. He didn't like being out in public...He didn't like people looking at him all the time...Not unless he was trying to impress them. He just couldn't trust anyone.

A fragile, soft girl was passing by in the midst of the crowd when Ashar shouldered into her and knocked her on the ground. He looked down, shaking his head. People had to have some sense when they were walking around these sort of places. What was someone like her doing here anyways? Buying black market aprons and kitchenware? Maybe a banned barrette? No matter, he didn't really care. Women. He scoffed at them. He drew his attention away from her and continued to walk without so much as a second glance. If she expected an apology...well she had certainly show some merit to a title... Duchess, Princess, else he may assume her as a lowly whore...Although she didn't look the part.

And then he saw the man.

Eveyto.

Well he was there, waiting as always. A lost puppy waiting for Ashar to help him. He swore the man was utterly useless alone. If it weren't for Ashar, where would the scraggly blacksmith be? Still listening to his "dreams" and following some sort of god. He didn't have a clue, that's what Ashar thought. He was just a bumbling dunce that needed some guidance, and Ashar was for some reason, being that guide. He didn't bother tapping the man on the shoulder, tugging at his shirt, or anything like that. He didn't need to demand Eveyto's attention, no...He was better than that. So he folded his arms and waited for the man to notice him...which may have been difficult to achieve due to his...small nature.

Big things came in small packages...That's what he told himself.

[Catalyst Echo]

He hadn't really expected the chunk of concrete to ricochet off one of the support beams. Instinctively, Eveyto dropped his posture to a duck, not bothering to glance in the direction of the rock's projectile. Investigating whatever it may hit would glean him responsibility, and even worse, notice. He moved out further on the concrete platform, feeling fidgety.

With a groan, he realized the hub was becoming more alive with various travelers again. The crowd, comprised of a few milling stragglers a few minutes ago, was now a fully fledged throng. Like a droning buzz, the symphony of hundreds of dialects wafted through the air and reverberated off the various industrial structures. A sharp, feminine cry rang out, making the brunette flinch in guilt. The chunk must've found its mark. Poor thing. Oh well.

For a few moments, he feigned obliviousness. Ashar's footsteps were easy to pick out in a crowd- light, quick, but with purpose. That, and the arrogant huff of his breathing announced the prince's arrival. A tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Eveyto tightened the muscles of his shoulder. Without turning his head, he spoke.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd deemed this little venture below you, Prince."
Submissive as ever, Eveyto's voice would always be quiet, even when he was feeling as stirred up as he did now. Not a single tone shook.

Uncertain eyes fixed themselves on the skyline once more. "Vem should be here soon. The sooner we obtain this information, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. I keep thinking I'm hearing Force Chopper blades- they're fond of dispatching helicopters when making an arrest. I'm stunned we've gotten this far."

His gaze flickered to the top of Ashar's head in acknowledgement. Oh, strong personalities like this were so domineering- but playing your cards right and feeding them what they wanted often yielded promising results. He was more than happy to give Ashar the authoritative ego trip the smaller man got from ordering Eveyto around as long as it meant his assistance was assured. Ashar, son of a bitch that he was, had two things Eveyto lacked and wanted- confidence and direction.

That was what had drawn him to Vem so quickly in the first place, ages ago. Back then, the Mylian was climbing the latter in the Force’s political ladder, but kept a steady presence in Gallieon’s market, where he’d run across the Shaux weaponsmith. Running with the redhead and their mutual friend, Adago, became a quick routine on his trade stops.

It had been nice to have friends.

Even nicer to have friends that got you out of jail. That, he imagined, had been the last straw for Deputy Vem. Eveyto wouldn’t harm a fly, he’d said at the hearing. Let him out.

Let him out.

Out of the fire, into the frying pan.

The punch on the shoulder and Ashar’s sudden shift in movement jerked Eveyto out of his reverie. Startled, Eveyto whirled in the direction of the hit. A hand fell to his scimitar, and a gloved one immediately halted it.

The young man sighed in relief.

Vem was a stocky, typically well-dressed man. The long, red braid, something Vem’s former culture encouraged, still remained swinging from the back of his head in a stiff line, a far contrast from the wildly smiling man’s easy posture.

"Hey there Eve-.....man!” He chirped in a sort of strangled manner. Vem had never been that skilled in secrecy or keeping his voice down. “Good to see you and your uhh…friend?” He peered down at Ashar. An imposing height of 6’4, the figure of Vem could cut through crowds with no problem. Today, minus the suite and dressed in typical merchant array, he blended in a little better, but the new air of authority ceased to cling to the man, like the odor of his expensive cologne.

Still, the braided redhead did his best to lower his voice and shrink a little.

“I understand you gentlemen are in need of a bit of information?”

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

He wasn't worried like Eveyto was. They never shared that common trait: Weakness.

Ashar folded his arms across his chest and studied the sky. No. No helicopters today. They were a common noise in the air, but not today. At least not yet. That in itself was a surprising event. No one was being arrested or killed. They were lucky this day, being able to conduct their business safely. Usually there was always the looming threat of being watched or followed. Today seemed different...He was sure his blacksmith friend would agree, and hopefully it would put his mind at ease. If it didn't...Well Ashar wasn't a babysitter. He wasn't there to encourage Eveyto, he was there to...Well...Actually...Why was he there? He wasn't even sure anymore. At first he'd followed...No..Joined Eveyto because he felt the man had something to offer, but now his opinion of him had changed drastically. And yet he was still around...So...Well he just wanted to stop thinking about it.

And then the perfect segue presented itself.

The man was a bumbling dolt, at least that's what Ashar thought of him. He was too tall, he didn't make for a very secretive informant. His expensive cologne was repulsive to his nostrils, and his booming voice couldn't have been any more alerting or attention-grabbing. Now, Ashar wasn't very accustomed to secretive meetings but he was fairly certain that making a scene was the last thing you wanted to do...Well they had failed that one. He shot a glance at Eveyto who seemed oblivious, he was just happy to see his old...stupid...friend. Who was the guy kidding? He didn't know what he was doing...Ashar wasn't about to correct him, if they wanted to get caught, fine.

"Well...That iswhy you're here, is it not?"

He just wanted them to get to the point. The longer they stood around with the redheaded Force beacon, the more risk they ran of being spotted or caught. He wasn't worried about it, nothing worried Ashar, but he still didn't want to be caught. He had heard about things they did to people if they were caught...But it didn't frighten him. He stood resolute in his posture, a pillar of strength and resolve. The Force would not cause him to shake. He was better than that. Then the redhead said something...He referred to Ashar as Eveyto's...Friend? He bit his tongue. He was about to correct the bumbling idiot, but he decided against it. He didn't want to make a bigger scene than they were already making..

But he certainly wasn't Eveyto's friend...He was sure of that...

[Catalyst Echo]

Blessed are he who sees the word
Holiness are well rehearsed
Dollars in the faithful eyes
Anti fates on day disguised
You're just a faker
No miracle maker
Holy behavior
Wont make you our savior

He could practically feel Ashar's annoyance and disgust emanating off of the small, imposing form. Rigidity in the spine was both a sign of arrogance and distrust. Eveyto sighed as Vem withdrew his arm-hug. The change in his former companion's demeanor was immediate and noticeable, like fluid water over the rock facade of his face. Ever since he'd become a Warden, Vem was quicker to confront, the Shaux man knew.

"Listen, shorty," Vem had an incredible way of speaking in the softest tones that packed the punch of a semitruck lacking brakes. The Mylian's shoulders rippled and hunched as he forced his unsettling, violet gaze to glance down at the prince. "That IS why we're here. This is a cordial business transaction. You obviously CHOSE to be a part of it, so kindly remember your manners. Eveyto tells me you're a PRINCE, act like one." A haughty tone bit at the redhead's whispering voice, and he turned to the forger once more with expectant eyes.

Trying to intercede as quickly as possible, Eveyto stepped between the two men before Ashar set their informant aflame. A nervous swallow finally let him regain his speech, though not before an enormous foghorn blared its dominance over the airspace. He winced violently, each vibration from the horn violently raping the tender membrane of his tympanum.

"Perhaps we should make this quick, yes?" He fiddled nervously with the vial around his neck. Vem gave a good natured chuckle and slung an arm around the shorter merchant's neck.

"Sounds good, old dog."

An uncomfortable microexpression, unnoticeable to the widely grinning Mylian, flitted across Eveyto's face, followed by a barely perceptible nod. "The faster we do this, the sooner we can all get the hell out of dodge."

Pushing a strand of hair out of his pale face, Vem reached inside the fold of his shirt before withdrawing a small, black flash drive.

"Over one hundred." He said simply, pressing the device into Eveyto's scarred palm. "Pick and choose wisely, not all of them are a true threat. Warden Marcoux likes to cover all of his bases."

Suddenly, he was more aware of everything, senses forced into hyperdrive. The air smelled of pollution, salt, and the oil that sat thick upon the waters, just a few short feet away from him. He could hear the last few chinks of the metal untwisting from the vial, unnoticed. Vem's cologne was overpowering, sickening, the warmth of his hand an uncomfortable reminder of what he was giving up.

"Vem," He murmured quietly, eyes darting to Ashar for only a second. "You know you are my friend. You know what such actions mean to me. And you know that I must do what I can to protect you."

The smile remained in place, a nod of the braided head.

Poor friend. Not even the faintest suspicion.

See, that was the trouble with assuming the "naive, quiet guy" was just that- naive.

Eveyto shook his head, making the ragged length of his hair quiver. A single drop, an acidic hiss, and a swish before his hand covered Vem's blathering mouth before he even had the chance to scream. The scimitar, dropped seconds before, lay silently balanced across the craftman's boot, soaked with carmine and gore from the shallow penetration.

"A paralytic." Eveyto whispered as the wide-eyed official sank to his knees. "I've diluted this vial of Ka'Bah venom, so you won't suffer. You won't feel a thing, and you'll be dead before you can even drown. I thank you, Vem."

Carefully, so not to cause a commotion, he eased the giant's body to the rough stone support's bottom, eyes flitting incessantly toward the crowd to assess weather they'd been noticed. A quick flurry of hands, and the late Warden's feet were bound to stone. Just as the man became a corpse, Eveyto's quick hands rolled the massive form into the water with a dull sploosh.

.how.

How had he been that calculating? That cold?

Eveyto stared in horror as Vem's dazed, dreamy expression faded out of their view, swallowed by the murky depths.


He'd planned it from the second Vem had agreed to give him the information. He couldn't possibly...couldn't morally allow his friend the chance to be caught...Vem didn't deserve prisoner or torture...

...or was it just the fact he was terrified what information the former Warden would take back with him? Was this his heart now? Black, untrusting, and callous to those that sought to help him?

First step taken...a shudder ran across his spine.

The path of murder had commenced, and he'd started with the first, and probably only person completely willing to help them. His fist tightened around the flash drive.

If we want a martyr
We'll come and find you
Come and find you

Done before you started
You're dead in the water
Walk on father out to sea
You're done before you started
You're dead in the water

The water
The water
The water

Money made messiahs
You're televised to tell yours lies
Modern of a martyr
You're dead in the water!

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

Ashar watched as the red headed man slowly died with gurgling sounds.

Eveyto was leaving...Ashar followed, but not because he had to! He simply chose to. As he moved away from the red head, he watched the dead man. He gave a sinister gaze to the still form, spitting on the man's face as he passed. Served him right. It wasn't his place to address Ashar the way he had. And here Eveyto was, filling morose about the whole thing. What was he doing with the blacksmith any how...? The man didn't have guts, he didn't have wits, and he really didn't have too many tools...But something had told him to stick with the less-than-mediocre blacksmith...Something told him he would lead Ashar to something bigger, something more important...He just hoped it was soon, the man was beginning to erode his patience...

"And you're a corpse...Act like one"

He chortled to himself momentarily before commanding his gaze forward, following...No...Not following, but rather...Walking behind, yeah that was better word, walking behind Eveyto. The two made their way through the crowd. The blacksmith had finally shown some initiative, some balls...Well...He really didn't have any, but he was showing that he could pretend to have some...He kicked the red head's foot as he finally put the man behind him. He deserved it...No one insulted Ashar like that...Would one insult a prince in a court like that? No of course not...It was something that was unheard of...So why insult one in the streets? You...just...didn't do things like that. Now he was angry...His feathers more than ruffled...

"That black disk better bring better results than just your little friend being killed...You're so interested in it, I just hope you know what you're doing, Eveyto."

The man didn't usually know what he was doing...He was being guided by a voice in his dreams, how reliable was that? Ashar questioned his...partner's, that's what Ashar figured he was for now, source of inspiration. A dream figure wasn't something to listen to the way Eveyto listened to this one...But then again...Ashar wasn't one to judge people for listening to voices in their head....He could still feel the gentle whisper in the back of his skull...scratching at bone to try to free itself...But it couldn't. So he was stuck with that voice...Like Eveyto was...Perhaps that was why he stayed around. They were...at least in a vague sense, two peas in a pod...But only when it came to the voices...Other than that...They couldn't be more different.

"I hope you know what you're doing...Eveyto"

[Catalyst Echo]

Fury lit emerald in a way that outshone even the most verdant forests.

No reverence for the dead. None. At. All.

Bile bubbled in the back of his throat, adrenalin taking a second surge through his veins as Eveyto fought the urge to turn around and pick the shorter man up by the neck. No, he needed him to much. This, he reassured himself, this was what separated him from the brutes that ran his settlement. This is would make him a successful leader. This was why the Gods had chosen him.

“Of course I know what I’m doing.” The tone was surprisingly terse, carrying an untested threat within it. It was a lie, but only a little white one. Slowly, but surely, the desert rat was putting together how to both feed the ego of the sulking royal and still carry a bit of edge.

“I wouldn’t have been able to convince you to venture along in this endeavor if I didn’t, right Prince?” The normally placid expression of the Shaux man was pulled in a tight grimace of control.

“It will give us a starting point.” His steps through the crowd were becoming broader, an unspoken jest for Ashar to keep up with him as he pushed through the cigarette-smoking, trinket-peddling masses. “For allies.”

A punch was thrown, and it took Eveyto a second or two to realize it had been his own fist, knocking the leering, buzz-cut mercenary who’d decided to play a little “shuffle walk” with him- moving each time the brunette picked a direction to go around him. The large man hunched to the stone walkway, clutching his gut and groaning. That was where arrogance like that belonged, writhing on the dirt floor with the worms that would eventually consume its prideful master, just like everyone else in the end.

And it was all so natural.

Hardly anyone batted an eye, and Eveyto continued onward. Gallieon was a Darwinistic port indeed. The bigger fish ate the little ones for breakfast in a cruel display of capitalism and survival of the fittest. Here, you had to have the best wares, the best prices, and a little muscle (hired or your own) to carve out a niche.

He vaguely remembered his first fist-fight on Akiva, over zoning space to sell wares.

He’d lost. Unsurprising, then, but at least the other merchant kept his distance from then on.

He could still smell the anger radiating off of Ashar, behind him, and it only made his temper boil further. What had Ashar lost today? Maybe an hour or two.

People like Ashar had no friends to lose. No wonder her was more cut out for starting this type of campaign, Eveyto thought glumly. High-reaching royals cared only for their own political agenda, perched on towering thrones too high for “normal” relationships to experience the bonds the lowly steer they guided formed with one another.

It made Eveyto spit on the sidewalk as they neared the transport he’d rented. Oh, the wonders of technology. The Catalyst admired the hovercar for a moment, exuding a bright violet light from its undercarriage. He pried the door open with a scowl, finally turning to answer Ashar’s question.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Ashar. And if my logic is correct, we will find a copious amount of “friends” interested in our cause in the Force’s little black book.”

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

Just the way he talked to him...

It was almost unbelievable. If it wasn't for what Ashar needed he would have put Eveyto in his place much much earlier in their time together. The whelp needed to know who was really running things...It was him. He...He let Eveyto call the shots, well sort of. He didn't want to be bored to death with the responsibilities of acting like a leader. He knew he was, and Eveyto was just a figurehead. That was how it worked, even if the blacksmith didn't see it. He was...after all..just a blacksmith. Who cared if he had dreams about false gods...he knew who the real gods were...He had heard them, spoke with them. They had titillated his soul, his brain, his heart...He knew who they were and what they wanted. Who they favored...And it was him, not Eveyto. But he would let the blacksmith play the role a little longer..

He just had to find a time to decide to end his charade.

Ashar crossed his arms as the Shaux tried to explain his strategy. Or patronize him. Neither would work on him. He was better than that...Smarter too. The Epymeme was craftier than he let on...And the Shaux was stupider than he realized. He didn't need petty lessons on faux-leadership. He knew what a real leader was...He really couldn't stand Eveyto, it was a miracle he had let him live that long..Squash him like a bug, that's what he should have done...But no...He didn't. He wasn't sure why. He rolled his eyes looked back out at the crowd, turning his back to the blacksmith. He didn't deserve his whole attention at the moment anyways. He'd save that for another day...If he thought he could lecture Ashar, he was dead wrong. He knew what he was doing...The Shaux certainly didn't.

"Whatever you say blacksmith...Just..."

Remember your place

That's what he wanted to say...But the words didn't come out. He couldn't understand why. Well...He just didn't want to hurt the bastard's feelings, that was it. No one liked to see a grown man cry...Least of all Ashar. It would have put him over the edge. So he held back, that was it. Instead he took a step away from the transport. He didn't want to waste time arguing with the Shaux man, it was just a waste of air...He ground his teeth, irked at the ignorance of his...Well what the hell was he!? Acquaintance...That was it...He was so fed up with his acquaintance...But something stopped him from letting the man have a piece of his mind. He saw them moving through the crowd now...Deputies searching the body of the dead man. No one got away with killing a Warden for long...Soon they'd be hunted down. He turned back to the transport and walked in, shouldering past Eveyto.

"Just don't be stupid like your friend back there..."

[Catalyst Echo]

Stupid?

No, Eveyto wasn't stupid. Coward? Maybe, at times. Weakling? Okay, he'd let that one slide.

In any other setting, the brunette would have been bellowing his bronchii out at Ashar for even DARE imply that Eveyto was anything but intelligence. He couldn't rely entirely on brawn on Merdian- so it made perfect sense to sharpen the sword of his mind.

In any other settling....oh boy...

A fist clenched and a brow twitched, but Eveyto said nothing as the pair rippled through the crowd at a quicker pace. He too could hear the low murmurs of the investigating officials. Well, at least Vem would never be caught...never subjected to the furies the Force hid within its prison walls, the sounds he'd heard at night coming from the less...scrupulous prisoners' cells.

Anonymity was so precious, so easily obtained within a crowd. Seeking further, he ducked down into one of the subway bunkers, clearing the railing and steps in a gargantuan leap that would remind Ashar that hey- he might be superior in a multitude of ways, but physically...ah, physically, Eveyto had the edge.

The rest of the steps flew like wind-tossed feathers under his feet, giving way to smooth concrete as a blast of polluted air blew his hair back from his face. Scrambling, Eveyto quickly pulled the ticket he'd purchased earlier from the folds of his clothing and made a beeline for the smooth train.

A crumpled bag, filled with rancid fast food squished under his hurried step as he crossed the space of the crowded subway. A hive of sorts in its own rights, the subway could take them as far away as halfway across the planet, further into the heart of the mainland so far from here.

Had Ashar been smart enough to buy a ticket? The thought flickered across his mind, but given the asshole's attitude as of late, Eveyto convinced himself he didn't really care. He had a whole list of new possible allies nestled close to the beat of his heart in his pocket, possibilities that would maybe, just maybe, bide their steps a little less arrogantly.

A warm palm closed around frigid steel as he grabbed a pole for support, eyes trained on the closing portal doors to the transport..

C'mon, Ashar. He thought with an ounce of spite that surprised himself. Move those little legs a little faster, or figure another way out of here.

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

Suddenly the man was moving quickly through the crowd.

He must have gotten paranoid. The Force was wading through the throngs of people now, trying to see if they could see any suspects leaving...Or suspicious looking people in general for that matter. Without warning the man bolted off. What was Eveyto thinking? Ashar corrected himself...The dolt rarely thought. He just did things without using his head...There was a reason Ashar was superior after all..That was one reason of many. Still, he had to sprint to keep up with the...Taller..But certainly not as smart man. He didn't want to draw attention like Eveyto was doing, but it was the only way to keep up...Well he didn't struggle to keep up, but he just didn't want to look like Eveyto's lap dog yapping at the man's heels...That certainly wouldn't do.

He was over the ticket booth, not having a ticket.

People shouted out to him to get back there to face the authorities, but he was long gone. He didn't need a ticket...Who were they to say he did? He gave them one glance back, a smug look on his face, knowing how pathetic they looked compared to him, when he hit a brick wall...The impact hit him in the chest, sending him to his back and sliding across the floor. He pushed himself up with his arms to see what had hit him. A man in a long tan coat with a cigar in his mouth was looking right at him, spitting out tobacco that was pocketed in his lip as he did so. A deep chortle resonated from his whiskery throat as he gnawed on the cigar. Ashar spat in his direction and turned to the train where he was sure Eveyto was.

Only there was another obstacle...

The man had a friend. That meant one thing...Force. This one had a massive gut hanging over his belt, one eye horribly scarred sunken in, and his head bald. His suspenders moved as his belly jiggled with laughter as he pushed Ashar down. He looked around the big one where the train was...He needed to get on that train...He stood up, bracing himself for another shove, but this time he was surprised from a punch to his kidneys from behind, sending him skidding across the tiled floor of the station. The fat one kicked him in the gut, sending him sliding further across the floor...Right next to the closing door of the train. He rolled in quickly as the door shut closed, but not before one of the Wardens, the fat one, got his hand caught as he tried to reach for the Ephymeme.

Ashar stood up, a panicked look on the fat one's face.

It pleased him. He could have fought him and his friend right there and then...But he didn't want to draw attention...Not just yet. But now he was in a position to get some well-deserved revenge on the fat one. Pushing a Prince? That was...Well that was uncalled for. He grabbed the chubby middle finger and bent it, the snap faint but audible, making some people reel back in disgust and fear...People were whispering now. Chubby little finger...Snap. Chubby ring finger...Snap...Then the man finally pulled his arm free of the door as the train pulled into a tunnel. The Warden had gotten off easy that time...

Pushing through the startled crowd, Ashar went to find Eveyto.

[Catalyst Echo]

He avoided the positively fuming eyes of the royal as soon as he smelled Ashar's smoky scent, felt the burning persona of Mr. Galantine entered the particular transport car he had chosen. An exhale of relief dare not make it past his lips, but a certain tightness wound itself around his muscles. The hand curled around one of the support poles twitched, then grasped its possession a little more tightly.

An apology was in order, he rightly knew. But an apology would almost completely cancel out the dominance (however miniscule it might have been) he had just tried to exert over the less err…vertically endowed partner of his. Another shaky breath, and a glance down that turned into a nod acknowledged Ashar’s seething presence.

“This train will take us to the city of Haale. We can get a ship there and get off of the planet. The less time we spend around here, the better.”

Claustrophobia had never really been a vice of Eveyto’s, but it was starting to feel rather stuffy in the cab. Haale, he knew, was a good hour’s trip away. Unfortunately, the scholar also knew the source of his current nervousness was not the horde of bodies pressing in on them, rattling with each sway of the train transport, but rather the dangerously smoldering one beside him.

Nothing else of consequence came to mind. Making small talk with Ashar was almost as bad as the silence, punctuated only by a dry cough of one of their fellows or other bodily noises. Conversation seemed scarce as a general rule on this moving box.

Unconsciously, he felt his eyelids droop in the slightest, and his lips spasmed, restrained from the words they’d been about to silently utter.

The ancient oaths, credos the Shaux ancestors had set into their laws long ago were less part of the tribe’s legal system and more so a recited comfort to the man’s soul. How Ashar would laugh, how Ashar would ridicule him if he knew he had been about to pray. An eye cast around the room revealed a pair of travelling citizens, pale cerulean heads wrapped in the whitest of linen cloth, matching turbans that could mean anything from a mated pair to two creatures of cloth traveling to preach their planet’s particular gospel.
“You don’t believe in any gods, do you, Ashar?” He expected an immediate retort, something along the lines of there was no god, only those that made themselves gods. The timbre of the other Catalyst’s voice would pulse with authority and arrogance.

A thoughtful pause, and Eveyto raised his shaggy head to the car’s swinging ceiling.

“…you think they’re laughing at us?” His own tone did not shake, but rather held careful consideration and pondering, the proper tone of a philosophizing scholar. Frankly, he couldn’t think of anything else to do on an hour ride on their getaway train.

[Catalyst Maelstrom]

City of Haale...Gods...Ashar cared not for the insignificant.

All the same, the other man was rather intrigued with the plan and the thoughts. Ashar wasn't one to care about the small details of a a rather large plan. City of Haale...Heard of it, didn't really care about it. Nothing compared to Paradise, the capitol of his home world. White beaches...Buildings sculpted from marble and pure crystal. The bodies of women seemingly made from the same material the way they glittered against the moonlight, the sunlight, the water. Goddesses in their own ways. The spires that rivaled gravity itself, stretching up to poke at the great suns of his planet. Oh how lovely they were. And everywhere you looked...Beaches upon beaches upon beaches, glorious oceans stretched to the ends of infinity, lush green trees provided shade that no one cared for because the radiant orbs in the sky were too lovely, basking in their almost eternal light was the closest thing to addicting that one could get without actually being hooked on it.

This city of Haale was not going to be like Paradise was...No.

So why should he care? He braced himself as the train shuttle turned and rattled a little, causing the handle he was gripping to shake with some force. He looked around to make sure no one was looking at them...The gods, laughing at them? Probably not. Other people around them...Most likely. Who was going to take someone like Eveyto seriously? Especially when he spoke of such nonsense in the midst of a public crowd. It was almost irritating how naive the man was. And yet something tugged at his gut when he prompted the question. Were the gods real? Were they laughing at them? An all too familiar chill crawled up Ashar's body, not just his spine. It covered his body like a thin second skin of permafrost. His soul iced over tenfold. He knew they existed...He had heard them...And yes...They laughed at him.

Month'kai...

I am your nightmare...Ashar

Indeed he had been. After being driven to the brink of madness, he had embraced the dark horror that had assimilated the reality of what he had once known. Those crystalline spires had turned to icy tombs, grim markers for the hordes of those that had died to the monstrosities and unbearable cold that his race was unaccustomed to. They no longer resembled the glittering towers he knew in his memories, but snow-blanketed mountain peaks...Their halls empty, save for the death that choked their every space. The glittering expanse of ocean was nowhere to be seen...A barren of ice, snow, darkness, and the unknown. A cold sweat beaded on his forehead from the memory of the terrifying experience...But yes...He knew the gods existed...

"Don't be ridiculous Eveyto...We make our own destinies through power and strength...The gods have nothing to do with it. Don't start relying on them to get us through this, or you'll be as dead as your stupid friend."

The lie was a good one...But inside he couldn't believe his facade.