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3 and a half years ago
She inhaled, tasting the sickly sweet iron that clung to her clothes, her skin and the pooled in the dirt at her feet. Sweat mingled with the blood that peppered her body, as she heaved in the air that she had barely been able to keep hold of during her fight. Despite knowing the dance of death, one she had done so many times before, her body quivered with exhaustion, chest burning as her heart thudded in her chest pumping the adrenaline through her veins to keep her from falling to her knees right then and there as her gaze flickered briefly over the carnage that she had caused.
The bodies of the three Angaran's lay before her, their blood soaking into the desert sand. Their eyes still wide open, staring blankly ahead of them as if they expected to wake up again. Freyja knew they would not- her stomach turned to lead. These had not been her first kill- they were so far from the first that the young woman didn't even know which number they were- but they had perhaps been the only kill with little reason behind it. She closed her eyes, tilting her head towards the sun.
If things had been different, if she had not been an outcast among the outcasts then- then maybe she wouldn't of had to kill them. If she had not had to flee into Badlands as the dying fires of the Port smouldered behind her and the news of her 'death' rippled through the city like ripples on the surface of a lake ravaged by storms, finally still after it had past, then maybe things would have been different. The fact was, it was not different. She had to kill them- they were too close to her hiding place. Too close to where she would raise an empire from the ashes of her ghost...
The sound of wheels in the dirt caused Freyja to tense, her nuckles burning white as she held her grip on the sword that was slick with Angaran blood. Her shoulders straightened, but she didn't turn to watch or see who drove up behind her- she simply kept her face angled towards the sky as she soaked up the sun she didn't deserve to feel against her skin.
PERMALINK // POSTED Sep 23 2017, 05:20 AM
It wasn't often that he got requests from the local angara. Garrett had just received a message from a small angaran abode in the badlands. They had the only viable source of water in that particular region of the area and were growing increasingly concerned that they would come under attack for control of the water pump. The exiles didn't have the means to properly filter water on Kadara. Only the angara could manufacture adequate filtration systems like the one in question. He thought it was deserving of a look, even if they only paid him in water, it would be worth the effort.
Garrett pushed his four-wheel ATV out of his shack in the slums and then hopped on. It took a few attempts to get the rust bucket to start. He had recently acquired it as payment for a job. It was hastily assembled with various different parts, some that weren't made to be used for what they were. To be honest, it was a piece of shit that he was surprised ran at all. Finally, he managed to get it going and sped off through the gates. It felt good just to get out and drive around, even if it was the badlands. Nothing like a little sulfur-laced wind in your face to get the day started.
Nothing could have prepared Shaw for what he saw when he came around the bend and approached the angaran settlement. Bringing the four-wheeler to a sliding halt, he kept his eyes fixed on the woman standing amidst carnage. Blood still dripped from the sword at her side, the blood of the Angara. He had his carnifex pistol out and aimed at her but he wasn't going to fire...not yet. Garrett didn't need her to turn around to know who it was but it shouldn't have been possible. She couldn't be here. The dead don't rise again.
"Freyja..." he muttered. He cautiously approached one of the downed angaran and crouched down to check for a pulse, knowing there was no chance of it. They had been gutted ruthlessly and efficiently. Slowly rising back to his feet, he lowered his pistol slightly. "You're supposed to be dead and yet here you are. Like some bloody wraith of vengeance."
PERMALINK // POSTED Sep 23 2017, 06:26 PM
3 and a half years ago
In that moment, as the purring engine of the ATV died out, she swore she could hear the blood dripping from the blade of her sword onto the soaking earth. Freyja waited for the guilt to wash over her, consume her like it had done so many times before but then the bark- her bite- that scolded inside her reminded her that there was no room in the world to be guilty about anything- that everything was a grey-scale mix of shades of black and whites and that not even she could distinguish between the both. She told herself that what she had done- what lay before her- was something that had to be done.
That's what she whispered to herself as she exhaled slowly, as if she had been holding all the emotions from the slaughter inside her and had just let them go on the wind that whipped at the blood encrusted strands of hair that hung around her shoulders. Freyja didn't shift or move an inch as she listened to the driver of the ATV leave their car. The uneasy silence shivered too as the stranger took in what she had done- still she didn't turn, her eyes closed and head tilted up. Only her fingers twitched at the hilt of her blade, ready and itching but Freyja had more self control. Not yet...she whispered to herself.
When the stranger spoke, she allowed her mask to drop as she let out a bark of a laugh. "Ha." she almost snarled, her lips pursing tightly as she opened her eyes to stare at the sky "I never thought I would hear that name again." She was a ghost and she knew it- she wanted to be a ghost, to slip into the shadows and never be seen. She also wanted control, to hold power and she knew she would need the few friends she had left alive to do that- but she needed it to be secret, her life, lest they find her out here.
"Vengence." she said softly, finally turning her head to look over her shoulder at the stranger. Her gaze flicked from the gun to the man who was weilding it "I would hardly call this vengence.....I'm dead...after all....ghosts do not need vengence."
PERMALINK // POSTED Sep 26 2017, 03:31 PM
"I don't believe in ghosts. I believe there's bad luck and even shittier luck. Looks like the locals here fall under the latter." His tone was even and he remained calm despite numerous warning bells in his head screaming at him to either fight or run. Garrett couldn't possibly fathom any logical reason for why she killed the angara. The locals had never been known to be hostile and they even provided some of the tame exiles water from time to time. Of course they didn't give it away freely but even that wasn't cause enough for murder.
"You know there were a lot of happy people when word of your death spread. There were also many who were saddened as well." For awhile there, the name Freyja became a symbol for some people. The weak and downtrodden looked up to and respected her. The power hungry profiteers hated and feared the name in equal measure. "So what changed? Why do this? Slaughter without cause doesn't fit your M.O. and judging by the fact that they just contacted me an hour ago, they already feared this outcome."
Garrett kept his distance from the blood-soaked woman, inching back slightly to put even more space between them. The former Alliance marine had went through hell, facing down waves of pirates on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. Yet there was something in Freyja's eyes that unsettled him. She was no longer capable of deciphering right from wrong. Reasoning with her wasn't going to work either. "What's the play here? I know you're alive and I'm guessing you don't want people at the port to know. Hard logic dictates you remove that possibility. I could say 'I won't tell anyone' but we both know you wouldn't accept that."
He holstered his pistol, not taking his eyes off of her. With a quick tap on his omni-tool, the orange blade extended. "So what's it going to be? Talk...or make a move."
PERMALINK // POSTED Sep 26 2017, 08:31 PM
Her gaze flickered over to the bodies around her- she barely flinched at the sight of them. She had watched them for days now, they were a conhesive unit made of two females and one male Angaran. Well, they had been a cohesive unit. She wasn't sure when they'd noticed her presence, like an overbearing shadow that hangs over the world on an overcast day but once they had, their movements became more irratic, more difficult to predict. Today, Freyja had been very lucky that she'd caught them off guard. "Perhaps...or perhaps they are lucky to be spared crueller fates by crueller people..." Freyja spoke, her voice void of emotion.
Many had looked up to Freyja, they saw her as some sort of god- a deity that walked among them and struck down those who did them an unjust and those who did her wrong hated her for it- the blind arrogant bastards were at the top of the food chain purley because they had the balls or money to do it. She could see their faces now- elated that she was gone...they wouldn't be laughing when she returned to tear their throats out while they slept. "Nothing." she said, almost snappily "Things are not so simple- it is not all black and white. I am the only one who sees this world for what it is...Shades of Grey. And I have done what had to be done- for me...for my people" her voice curled into a snarl as she finally turned to stare at Garrett.
"There is no play." she snarled "I am not playing a game. I am not child- I escaped the Port because I was dead to them...when that explosion took out half the street I was just in the right place at the right time- as you said, there are those who have poor luck and shittier luck- I got the longer end of the stick." The rage bubbled from inside her, lacing her words with venomous anger "I will remain a ghost to them as long as needed- a dead matyr, hero is better than a breathing one. And you?" she said scoffing "What game are you playing? One where you are the hero? One where you take vengence into your own hands strike down Freyja Olander for the kills she had made?....It is a nice game"
She took a step forward.
"But it is not one I am willing to lose to be part of"
She raised her sword and lunged.
PERMALINK // POSTED Oct 1 2017, 02:26 PM
The arrogance of this woman. She probably actually believed that she did these angara a service by killing them quickly. Garrett remained poised and ready, eyes narrowed looking for even the slightest shift in her movement. "That's not your call to make. I think you're buying into this whole false godhood thing a bit too much." Freyja took it upon herself to be judge, jury and executioner wherever she saw fit. Perhaps she had done some good in the past but there was nothing good about this. Nothing that was necessary as she so claimed.
Garrett shook his head and smirked as she went on a morality rant about black, white and shades of grey. Was this girl serious? He was starting to realize that he didn't care about the dead angara. It wasn't his place to judge her. The more she talked, however, the more he simply wanted to teach the brat some humility. "I need no morality lessons from you, girl. I was knee deep in blood and mud before you even hit puberty." He was intentionally being a condescending asshole now. Looking down on her as if she was still a child.
He let out a mocking laugh. "You know, it's not very convincing when you have to say 'I'm not a child'. That's textbook tantrum talk." All the attitude stopped when she turned her attention to him. Suggesting he wanted to be a hero made him growl under his breath. He hated that. It only served to remind him of Elysium and the piece of tin in the lockbox under his bed. "I'm no hero. Concepts of justice and vengeance don't exist on Kadara, you should know that better than anyone. I just want to teach you a lesson."
It was only a matter of time. Freyja launched herself at him with blade raised. Garrett twisted his body to the side to make her target smaller and brought his omni-blade up to sweep aside her strike. He jumped back to regain some of the distance. He analyzed the situation tactically as he always did. Freyja was faster, quicker and more skilled with a blade. His only advantages were strength and overall combat experience. She closed the distance again and it took all of his concentration just to defend. Her fury left very few openings for a counter. He parried another blow and then rolled to the side, creating a bit of distance.
He stood facing her and nodded in acknowledgement. She earned his respect as a warrior at least. If Garrett had truly wished to kill her, he would have used guns. It didn't make sense to engage her at close range where she was more skilled. He could only hope that she would realize that if she did manage to get the upper-hand. Perhaps he was a moron, a fool to expect any mercy to be shown from her or maybe he was just trying to prove a point. The only thing that was certain, Garrett was no hero but he was a survivor and he had survived much worse than Freyja Olander.
PERMALINK // POSTED Oct 1 2017, 08:45 PM
Freyja did not feel the wait if the guilt that she had felt before, when she was younger and fearful. The years had shaped her and the flame that might have once ignited her bones with the heavy weight of a conscience was barely an ember inside her heart. She was hollow, her heart only beating fearlessly and hard with the yearn to survive the hell she found herself in- it was not heavy with the weight of the lives she had taken.
The young woman let out a singular dry laugh at Garrett's comment. "I do not see myself as a God." She spat, snarling through gritted teeth "if people see me that way it is of their own valition. I do not come to them as holy, I only seek to be a messiah to lead this world out of the rotting pit it has become." Did Garrett not see it, that they were in a realm akin to that of Hel? Hela would be proud of this place, it was almost as if she had crafted it herself.
Freyja watched Garrett with her first gaze, her knuckles blanched white as she gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly that the wrapped leather began to dig into the skin of her palms. Despite her steady footing, she still felt the blow of being called a girl- it still fanned the flames that lashed violently within her soul. Still, she did not let it show on her face. "It is not just morality. It is about survival. Out here you can not see lines blurred- what I did was a mercy"
Freyja could see her words were also getting under his skin, like an icy wind she saw the most subtle of changes in his body- his pupils shrunk, nostrils flared and the small growl under his breath was all a sign that she was getting to him. How far would she have to push him? She thought to herself as she studied him. "Perhaps it is all just a mask- or perhaps not. We not all have lost our humanity yet"
As she lunged, the man was there to meet her. He twisted his body and her initial lung missed and as she withdrew, Garrett made his move. She span away, dodging his Omni tool just, feeling the blade hot against the air before her. Garrett had the advantage of strength and size but she was quicker. Before he could reassess after jumping back she lunged again with a cry, only to be parried by his own weapon. She withdrew for a second as he rolled, putting enough distance between them so she did not stick him through.
"You fight well,but I will not let you win." She said as she closed the distant, lunging right for his body again with sword in hand
PERMALINK // POSTED Jan 11 2018, 02:14 PM