If there is one thing that a gypsy knows how to do - it is the ability to learn the secrets of others. The little whispers, the dark murmurs, the rumors and the tales. And of course, how to see through the lies, and misinformation, to seek out the truth.

It is this that has brought the small transport, Star Dancer, to this dark little station. A small space station in orbit around a dead planet. A station that was abandoned by the original owners. Of course it did not take long for less savory elements to move in and start using the station for their operations.

Which of course is what has brought her quarry here. Her quarry - a slaver. She doesn't know if he's one of the ones who attacked the ship she was on years ago. But that hardly matters - he's a slaver. That's all Triella needs to know.

She steps off her ship into the docking area - and almost immediately heads turn in her direction.. especially male heads.. already trying to decide if she could be bought or taken - either for themselves, or perhaps sold later. Triella slips through the crowd gracefully despite her small size.. her hair falls in thick waves of obsidian around her - nearly touching the ground.. and at first glance, it almost looks like her hair is her only garment. Her skirt is of fine black mesh that is so fine as to mix in with the lines of her hair.. layer upon layer of it so that only occasionally can brief glimpses of skin be seen. Around her waist are two gold belts of light chain with bells and balls and charms hanging from them. Her blouse is just a single wrap of black gossamer tied behind her, beneath her hair. The fabric is sheer enough that she is all but topless as she walks through the station confidently.

She pays her entry taxes with a single gold coin - again drawing notice from the thieves and murderers and dealers and traders around her.

That is of course the point of this exercise, she thinks to herself, hiding her smile. She wants word of this 'beautiful innocent creature walking around the station alone' to spread. After all - today, Triella is fishing - and she is the bait.

Lurp's mood had been foul for far too long. He remembered the days when his flawless anonymity allowed him to move and do what he pleased. The ADD had certainly never been aware of his movements, but one careless ravaging turned out to be his undoing. Now the ADD was not only aware of him, they had detailed files of his military record. He had been sold, by his own government no less! Exile and banishment were one thing...but to be bartered off like a poker chip...he was still trying to wrap his mind around it.

He had relegated himself to this sorry excuse for a space station to brood. Disguising himself sometimes as a metal girder or a section of the wall or even as a homeless drunk, he had already been here for a week and despite ambushing and murdering several arbitrarily selected denizens his mood had not improved.

Today he was a pillar of the community. Literally. He was so deep in thought that he barely noticed when the girl strode past him purposefully. A natural beauty with curves that would turn even the eyes of the blind. Her breasts, pert and welcoming through a covering that was more a joke than actual clothing. Yet as strong as his physical response was, his suspicion rose just as quickly. This girl wasn't just asking for it...she was expecting it...naivete didn't exist in this part of the galaxy, at least not according to him.

"Finally...a worthy distraction..." he burbled silently to himself as he reformed his body away from the support beam and took the shape of a crippled beggar.

"Come little butterfly...see the web I've woven..." Slowly, he limped after the girl.

[[OOC: Sorry for the slow response, still getting used to the schedule at my new job. Also been trying to decide where I was going to take this next]]

Triella moves through the station as if she owns it.. with a confidence and poise that attracts a lot of attention. She is either oblivious - or very sure that she can handle any trouble that comes. She makes a few not-to-discreet inquiries, and walks through the station and into some of the darkened corridors.

She heads for the 'dark side' of the station - the area where even some of those who make their living working on the station or traffic here regularly avoid as too dangerous. But this does not seem to bother the beautiful gypsy.

She moves with that surety though that actually puts some of the predators on alert - that same sense of warning that Lurp felt - that something is not quite right here.

She walks into the "darkside market", and starts openly asking for information.. asking after her sister.. another gypsy woman.. and slavers who took her. Some of the denizens of the market send her away without answering anything.. others try to entice her over with information and promises in exchange for her gold. But if she is not fully aware of the danger she is in - she knows enough to recognize the ones that are lying to her, just to get her gold.

Still she persists, working through the information network of the dark market, seeking those who might truly know something.

[Don't worry about it, I'm doing my best as well, I'm sure eventually we'll pick it up better.]

Discretion certainly did not seem to be a personality trait that this one exercised very readily. Lurp found this trait to be irresistibly alluring but equally infuriating at the same time. Afterall, "discretion" was not only his modus operandi it was basically his way of life, and even with all his care and training, he had still been tagged due to a very minor mistake. He hobbled along with these thoughts playing in his mind as his attention drifted between her perfectly formed body and the nature of her inquiries.

Slavers, that was who she was after, at least allegedly. Lurp considered this bit of information for a brief moment. He knew almost every slaver that regularly visited the station. He knew where most of them were likely to be. Deciding to take a gamble on his assumptions he hobbled off into a dark secluded corner and dissolved his body into a puddle before slithering beneath the metal grating that acted as both the ground and the drainage system for the market.

"It doesn't matter if looking for slavers is just a cover because she's playing the part to perfection anyways...if her objective is beyond the slavers she'll have to find them either way." Lurp thought to himself as he flowed along with the market filth just beneath where she walked, occasionally gazing up her skirt with a feral hunger.

Suddenly an idea dawned on him. Fight suspicion with suspicion. Quickly he flowed some distance ahead, deeper into the market, until he reached his destination. Slowly he pulled himself out of the drain behind a small bar. "Lem's Bar" as it was called once served terrible drinks at terrible prices. The original occupant, like most establishment owners in this part of the station, was a real tough SOB, also like most establishment owners in this part of the station, he was dead. The establishment had become defunct with the vultures occasionally coming by looking for alcohol to steal. Lurp looked around, the coast was clear, just a few drunks and a stabbing victim bleeding out his last few minutes several yards away.

He ducked behind the counter and quickly shaped himself into a form he hadn't used since he left that all girls campus. Standing up slowly behind the bar, Lurp looked himself over, checking to make sure that he had remembered everything. Within seconds, standing behind the counter was an attractive young brunette with light brown hair and a skimpy blue-white costume complete with miniskirt, arm-warmers, and other bits of jewelry and embellishments.

Lurp had found this form he had named Purl to be particularly useful in putting the female students off guard back on the island. In a place like this it would no doubt make his prey confused and suspicious.

Deliberately he started sifting through the abandoned bar, digging out old bottles of moonshine that had been fermented and distilled in the engine of some transport ship, and generally making a sufficient amount of ruckus, waiting to be noticed by his prey.

[OOC: Sorry for the delay again]

Lurp gets an idea of just how little 'discretion' Triella has when he crawls through the grating under where she walks - for looking up her skirt, he'll discover that she is naked under the skirt, the thin strips of mesh doing nothing to hide her from THAT vantage point.

But if she lacks discretion, she is also not quite as naive as she might seem, for he'll also notice the small knife strapped to her thigh in such a way that the skirt will always hide it from sight - but is also within easy reach of the gypsy if she needs it.

Granted, a knife in a place like this is not a lot of protection - but it speaks to the fact that she is apparently not unaware of the TYPE of danger she might face here.

She continues her attempts to 'blindly' buy information - perhaps giving away a few coins needlessly, but still showing she has money, and is willing to spend it on those who might be able to help her. Eventually she'll come out to the bar where Purl is now behind the bar. At first Triella was about to walk past the establishment as abandoned - until she notices the bartender.

She stops and definitely stares and thinks a moment. The girl is young.. pretty. What is she doing in a place like that? She is too 'well kept', her clothes too good for this kind of place. The same instincts that put Lurp on alert about Triella, now put Triella on alert about Purl.

But after a moment, Triella again starts to glide over into the bar.. brushing past the drunks and vagrants and goes up to the bar, taking a seat. The strips of the skirt fall around her legs, baring a great deal of thigh to anyone looking, while she also leans against the bar, providing a generous view of her curves to anyone who cares to look. "Do you have any decent ale? Something imported, rather than anything brewed on this rathole?"

Purl doesn't even bother turning around as she continues to rummage through the decrepit bar but replies "I do, yes. Lem, whoever he was...not so much." Her voice lilting and almost lyrical.

Finally, satisfied with the scrounging about, she settles several of the bottles onto the bar. Eyeing Triella suspiciously, she reaches into a hip pack and withdraws a canteen offering it to her cautiously.

"You're dressed to get raped...or worst." She remarks a-matter-of-factly as she looks Triella up and down. Then, shrugging apathetically, she turns around and begins loading the bottles into a dusty old box.

"You can keep the canteen, but if I were you I wouldn't dull my wits anymore than they already appear to be in a place like this."

Triella smiles as Purl hands her the canteen. "Thank you." she says softly as she takes a small drink from the canteen.

She gives a soft laugh when Purl suggests she is dressed to be raped. "The Rom are not easy prey." she says softly - and suddenly there is a switchblade in Triella's hand, which she flips around effortlessly. So effortless and quick was the movement, that it is impossible to tell where she drew the weapon from.

"Still, if it takes drawing the 'wrong kind' of attention, to find my sister, then I welcome the attention. I don't suppose you've seen any other gypsies? Perhaps one brought in as a slave for sale? A few inches taller then me, slighter build, with a bit of red in her hair?" To Lurp's knowledge, there has been no one like she is describing on the station recently.

[ooc: Sorry for the delay, no internet access at Anime Expo, but that's over now.]

Purl puts the bottles into a box and hauls the contents of her salvaging up into her arms. Then turning to face Triella replies, "I wouldn't know, to be completely frank." Her eyes following the blade's every move. "But I'm sure you know...people like us...they appear and disappear here everyday..."

Then with a swift and sudden movement of her ankles, and despite carrying a large box filled with bottles, Purl had slipped around Triella effortlessly like flowing water and was now standing back to back with her.

"The ones that don't..." She paused deliberately, then leaned gently back against Triella and looked absent-mindedly down at her bottles, "The ones that don't...well there are reasons." Slowly, Purl steps away from her then turns to face Triella again. "The reason why I'm still here...the reason why you walk without fear."

Staring evenly at Triella, Purl waits to gauge her next move.

[OOC: Np - I've not exactly been quick to respond either]

Triella gasps at Purl's sudden movement.. and the bottles seem to shake in Purl's box. Perhaps more than they should, given how graceful and effortless the movement was? Or maybe not?

Triella will smile at Purl when she turns back around so they can face each other.. respect for the other girl in her eyes. "Indeed, there are reasons. If one is to walk among the predators, at the least, one must not act like prey." She says with a nod.

"I like you.. under other circumstances, I might even seek you as a friend." Then she sighs.. "But I must try to find my sister. If you see anything.. or hear anything.. would you contact me? I go by the name Lark.. I own the scout ship, Star Dancer."

Purl gazes at Triella evenly. "Lark...I suppose it would do no good to tell you to get back to your ship and leave."

Rubbing her temples gently she smiles ironically, "Slavers...this place literally crawls with them and their hired hands. If your sister looked anything like you she'd have fetched quite a price."

Glancing about suspiciously she continues, "If you're sure that your sister came through here I highly doubt she's still around."

Purl readjusts the box in her arms and looks down at the ground mulling over the situation. Finally she looks up and stares Triella right in the eye.

"I don't like doing this..." She states with complete honesty, "Like as not it will turn out badly for me as well as you, but I'll keep my eyes open. Do you have a picture of your sister that I may look at?"

As Triella offers the photograph Purl stares at it intently, memorizing every detail of the individual. They did indeed look very much alike, both possessed that mysterious and rare exotic beauty. After she felt confident that she had remembered the image of the girl in the photograph, Purl leaned in close to Triella and whispered, "If you insist on seeing this through...look for one named Seran...he's a particularly well connected slaver...you may find him in the mechanical district...You know the risk as well as I do...so I'll say no more."

With that Purl, turned around and walked briskly away, fading into the shadows. After she was some distance away and alone, she chucked the box of useless alcohol and melted down into Lurp's natural form. "This will be easier than expected." He snickered gleefully. "Now let's pay a visit to old Seran before our tasty treat finds him first."

Swiftly he slithered down a drain and into the pipes running throughout the station.

Triella sighs and shakes her head when Purl suggests she leaves. "I can't... I can't leave my sister.. no matter what happens to me."

She blushes slightly when Purl mentions that she would fetch quite a price, but shrugs gently (which only accentuates her very generous curves.. her breasts threatening to fall out of the gossamer wrap - not that would really show anything that isn't already visible).

She will smile at Purl though when the girl asks for the picture. Triella will hand a small photograph to Purl. The girl is indeed quite pretty, although in a different manner then Triella. Tria has the curves and body that just seem to be made for sex. Her sister though is taller, with the toned, lean body of a dancer, but still with curves in the right places. She is young as well, no more than 20.. perhaps even 18. Where Triella's body, posture and expression exude sexuality and hedonistic pleasure.. her sister seems to project a sense of innocence and youthful passion - which in its own way can be just as much a sexual lure as the blatant suggestion that Lark offers.

"Thank you Purl." she says sincerely, reaching out to hug the other woman, before offering her some coin in payment for the information. "I can't thank you enough.. if there is anything I can do for you.. contact me.. my ship is the Star Dancer."

Triella will leave the other girl then, and continue to ask for more information in the market as she thinks about what information she has been given. The mechanical district... dangerous. She knows she's been playing a dangerous game as it is.. but the mechanical district is "off the map". It's the service areas.. the generators.. all of the sections of the station that were never meant for tourists or visitors to go through. They would have been dark, unmarked and home to some of the seedier residents BEFORE the station was taken over by the criminal sector.

NOW.. going there alone.. playing her teasing, flaunting game... it borders on the suicidal. It's dangerous... perhaps deadly... perhaps worse. Who knows what kind of creatures live there now - human and non-human monsters alike. All of these things run through the gypsy's mind as she walks through the corridors, until she finds herself at the entrance to the mechanical sector.

Taking a moment to draw her knife again, she sighs and heads into the lion's den in search of Seran.

Lurp's own journey into the mechanical sector had been much swifter. Slithering between steaming metal pipes and flowing around gears and mechanisms, he had arrived well before Triella even reached the door and headed straight for where Seran usually made his haunts.

In the darkness of the mechanical district, Lurp didn't even bother changing his shape to blend in. He simply slithered around and behind heavy machinery, his movements masked and guarded by the low light and constant grinding sound. There was little time to waste, he had to reach Seran first.

As luck would have it, he found the slaver leaving an enclosed room which typically served as both an arena for business and holding cells for their "wares". Quiet sobs emanating from the room as the door shut indicated that Seran had just finished "sampling" someone he was about to sell, a common practice amongst slavers.

Lurp made a mental note to himself as he watched Seran march off with 4 personal guards in tow, leaving two at the door to secure the entrance. Stealthily he followed Seran and his detachment as they weaved their way through the mechanical district towards some unknown destination. Timing here, would be crucial.

As they passed through a particularly dark section of the district, Lurp raced ahead of the group and pulled himself up to full height, not even bothering to shift into the specific likeness of a human individual. He simply formed the basic humanoid shape and stood in their way.

Seran came to an abrupt halt, his guards leveling blasters at Lurp. In the brief staredown Seran's look of surprise turned into a sneering look of anger. "You best move along freak, I'm not in the mood to play with you."

"I wonder..." Lurp responded in a chilling monotone manner, "if you could give me some information."

"Information's not free around here, now beat it!" Seran responded venomously.

"Oh but I think you'll be wanting to cooper..." Lurp began, but he was cut off as a volley of blaster fire ripped through his form, punching holes through his nearly transparent figure and ricocheting dangerously into the chambers and hallways beyond.

"That...was very rude." Lurp replied as he took a moment to gather himself. "Your guards...are no longer welcome as spectators to our discussion." Before Seran's shock could subside, four massive needle-like protrusions erupted from Lurp's body and shot towards the group, each one snaking through the air and spearing the hands of the guards before reburying themselves into their chests, the force of the attack throwing them against the walls and pinning them there, their rifles viciously re-aimed just beneath their chins as they struggled in pain.

His mouth opening in empty horror, Seran turned to run away. He had taken no more than his first step before a wave of gelatinous compound flowed out from Lurp's feet and surrounded and solidified around Seran's legs like a massive concrete block.

"Before you even entertain the notion that you might escape from me...consider how quickly I immoblized your men...now consider their fate." Lurp hissed at him, and without a further word, the appendages pinning the men to the wall, reached out and discharged each of the rifles held beneath their chins, ending their suffering.

Seran's eyes went completely blank with horror as the entire hallway became bathed with blood. Lurp retracted all forms and returned to a rounded mass of gel. Then drawing on his excellent memory he shaped his form into the exact image of the girl he had seen in the photograph. His detailing was perfect, everything from her hairstyle, clothing to her bodily form matched the image of Triella's sister.

Turning to Seran who was still in shock on the ground, he rolled his eyes with annoyance, walked over to him and picked him up with one of his slender arms.

"Seran." He spoke sweetly to him, emulating Triella's voice from earlier. "You need to take a good long look at me now." He continued. However it was doing no good, Seran was still in shock. Lurp slapped him a couple of times but it wasn't enough to bring him to his senses. Visibly impatient, Lurp glanced around suspciously. It would seem very strange to see a girl holding one of the most notorious slavers of the area up in the air by one arm and slapping him across the face with the other. He needed to speed this up.

"Seran." He said again, this time with audible hatred. "I need you...to pay ATTENTION!" And on that final word he reformed the girl's right arm into a massive stabbing spear and drove it through the slaver's left shoulder, at the same time deforming the girl's left hand into his natural gelatinous form and covering the man's mouth with it. Seran's muffled scream barely making any noise through the covering of Lurp's strange body.

"Now that I have your attention...I need you tell me, have you seen me before?" Lurp asked simply. Seran studied Lurp's adopted face for a moment and nodded briskly.

"Did you sell me off the station?" Confusion glazed over Seran's eyes for a moment before he nodded again.

"Who was I sold to? And don't think to lie to me, my patience for you ended many moments ago." And with that question Lurp removed the gag over Seran's mouth.

"Meric Legarath..." Seran responded breathlessly, "He shipped....you....off just over two weeks ago."

Lurp nodded with satisfaction, "There you see, that wasn't so hard, we could've done that from the start."

"Then...I'm free to go?" Seran asked, wincing in pain as Lurp retracted the cone-shaped spear from his shoulder.

"Oh I didn't say that..." Lurp replied before stabbing the man again, this time driving the point right through his heart and piercing the wall behind him. Seran managed only a gurgled gasp in response as he stared blankly down at the appendage pinning him to the wall. As his pulse slowed and his life began to tick away he looked up at Lurp one final time. Lurp stared him straight in the eye and commented impassively.

"You should really be thanking me...You may think me cruel but I have provided you a mercy. I have saved you from certain vengeance." Lurp's expressionless face tilted to the side as he twisted the spear slowly, watching the dying slaver writhe in pain. "Now vengeance cannot find you and you can sleep peacefully knowing that when I have temporarily taken your place, I will use your vengeance for every base pleasure of mine...I will twist and rack her body with desire and pleasure just as you twist and writhe in death."

The man's final seconds ticked away and Lurp returned to his natural form. "Now...the fun begins."

Within moments Seran had arrived back at the room, and two confused guards had been sent out to let everyone know that Seran was well pleased with his latest catch and that he would be using her till the time of her sale.

Lurp, as Seran, sat and grinned wickedly to himself, not even bothering to look at the naked girl chained to the ground who tried in vain to cover her body and shrank from him as he passed by.

"Come little butterfly...and see the web we've woven." Lurp sat...and waited.

Triella is more careful as she enters the mechanical sector.. careful, but not cautious.. not tentative. Nothing that could be interpreted as weakness, just an alert awareness of the area around her, and the danger it poses.

Here, she is not the proud, defiant woman she was in the market - here she is a hunting cat.. a predator amongst predators - slow, graceful, beautiful and dangerous.

She carries one knife ready in her hand.. held casually, naturally - clearly comfortable with the weapon and seemingly unafraid of using it.

It's not at all difficult for her to slip up to a couple of 'toughs' who dismiss the open weapon, and to quickly turn the blade around to their throats.. and to ask about where to find Seran.

Most of them leave her alone after her questioning.. those that don't quickly find out that she is not adverse to using the knife - ending up with wounds to arms, chest or face as the case may be.

Still, it doesn't take too long for her to make her way towards the chamber where 'Seran' is waiting.. and she scouts out the lay of the area.. looking for guards (both seen and unseen), as well as trying to judge what kind of escape routes would be available (both for her, or for Seran), before making her move.

Lurp waited patiently for Triella's arrival. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be able to slip through the area with ease, it was only a matter of time before she found her way here.

Glancing over at the girl who was still chained to the ground he remarked with annoyance "Oh stop crying, it's ruining the atmosphere."

Standing up, he walked over to her and restrained her flailing arms. Cries of protest came from the girl as he began fingering her slowly. "We're going to have a guest soon, so I want you to be on your best behavior."

The cries turned to soft sobbing moans of pleasure of he continued to ply her sex, "You're not a slave yet, and depending on how well you behave you may never become one."

Then just as the poor girl was about to climax he pulled away from her and sat back down, leaving her panting with desire, her own fingers moving to finish what he had started.

She was close, he could almost sense it. "Soon Lark...soon." he thought to himself with a smile.

Triella makes her way to the small room where Lurp/Seran waits with the emprisoned girl.

She moves cautiously and quietly - but perhaps not in the manner Lurp might have expected. She doesn't move with the precision and calculation that one might expect of a soldier or of the ADD.

She moves with an almost feline grace and efficiency - the motions of a thief, which are subtly different. But of course, no less dangerous. In some ways, perhaps, it's more dangerous - as there is less predictability to the way she uses the cover and shadows.. not always following the best cover, if it would interrupt the rhythm she seems to follow.

After making certain that there are no guards left outside.. she makes her way into the small chamber.. quickly sliding away from the door. "Seran.. I know you are here.. Slaver!" she calls out as she moves - but her voice seems to come from just a bit off of where Lurp can track her movements.

"Tell me what I want to know... and you may survive the night." she calls out again.. but there is a slight waver in her voice at the threat. As if she is trying to convince herself she could go through with the threat.