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Some weeks ago.....
Melanie's descent into madness had been viewed through ten thousand lenses, a million cameras and endless sets of eyes. It'd started as a benign thing, the errant actions of a young woman with and endless revenue and the looks to deny any charge, no matter how absurd or, at times, downright horrible. She'd forever been able to simply shrug and flutter long lashes, she'd been able to pose and preen, the darling of the media, rising super star in a world that adored heroes. The belle of the ball, the princess of the Outback. Too good, too pretty, too smooth. She's too cute, she's too harmless. She's too stupid. That's what they'd said when they turned away from the ghastly string of murders, the blood stained armor and the viper's flat stares.
It'd started some time ago, but who in this town wasn't crazy? Who was a sane person, who didn't have dark addictions? She'd lied, she'd lied and been caught. When ten thousand cameras focus on a single creature, one so destined for such an awful ending, there could only be a single, simple and ineluctable result. Stars collapse, volcanoes explode and storm winds rip houses to shreds, casting down the work of many men and many years.
"You know, I think she lied to us. I think she lied and I think she's pretty damn good at it, Lee." Two men sat in a lavish office that looked out over the city skyline. Melanie's agents, those who had been charged with repairing the damage she'd done so often, were at a blatant loss. "Fuck. Fuck, man." Between a haze of tobacco smoke and a single glass of scotch, the two marketing specialists stared through the wall to wall windows that spanned their private domain. "At least she's still in touch with us, but why?"
Lee's business partner, Jackson, shrugged. He sat in mute silence, entirely baffled by this striking turn of events. His eyes, things creased with stress and worry, turned down to look at a hand written note that rested atop the black table.
"Let's go over what we know before we go back to that. What do we know about her"? The question was one these two hand pored over for what felt like months at a time.
"Nothin'." Drunk, Jackson slurred the single, final word. It was acceptance and condemnation, finality and the proof of a pitiless game she'd played. Played with them all, the shark steeped in bloody water and macabre mystique.
"That's not true. We know she's not eating at all. She's losing weight. She's not sleeping at all. From what she's told me, she's slipping back into...another shape? Another form, I guess? That fourth layer of reality?" He was baffled by the siren's tongue, the half truths and twisted riddles she'd plied to mercilessly on the poor men. Trapped by her money and beguiled by her enchanting beauty, they'd been simply putty in her deft fingers. Lined with poison, she'd guided them, manipulated them and created the perfect storm. This what what she'd wanted all along, a message.
"So she's tryin' to kill herself or she's lookin' to make a message, Lee." Jackson was not, not at all, from this world. Born and raised on Coruscant, he at least knew of the Mandalorian world, those most strange and evasive of people. "Either way, it's goin' to be big. She's not goin' to kill herself, Lee, so what's that leave us with? What's the message she's tryin' to get across to everyone? See, her people, they love makin' statements. Ain't nothing they love more, Lee. Told you, she's a god damn snake but the first time she hopped in your bed you just couldn't stop, had to sign us up, right?" For the first time, Lee saw desperation in Jackson's eyes. It frightened him to the very core, deep in his bones.
He'd never been so accusatory before. "Well, she was money as well, man. We're still getting paid...."
The slam of a glass upon the table stopped his words before they ever really started to carry on.
"She's been usin' us, Lee. We're mouthpieces. She's been playin' the game and beatin' us blind at it, jus' like I told you. She's smarter than us, man. She's smarter than any of us, Lee. Now shuddup an' lemme see the note."
Silently, the man who was normally in charge passed the folded slip of paper across the wide table.
There comes a time, my friends, when a message must be sent to those who are wise enough to listen. Jackson, you'll understand this more than Lee will, so this is written to you. I've built an empire for myself based on what you told me I needed to be. That was your first mistake. Trusting me was your last. What's the message? Heroes fall, Jackson. Empires topple. The strong die as they lived.
Jackson folded the note with a shrug and a final, resolute nod. "We're goin' to die. That's the message. She's fallin' apart to show the world that heroes and stars collapse. She's martyrin' herself to prove a point ain't a soul goin' to understand. You got lucky, Lee. I'd have loved her had I known her like you did. Re-....."
He spoke no more. From within the room, a blinding flash erupted around the poor souls. The top story of a tall, tall building seemed, for a moment, to be wreathed in flame. As glass incinerated and ashes were strewn to the wind, two men's worlds went up in glorious, glorious fire that burned through the night's sky.
The media that camped outside of Melanie's fighting headquarters had been poised, as they were, each and every day. The precise moment of death, the exact time and place, were too perfect to be missed. Through the bottom doors, the gym area, Melanie strode. Thin and wasted, tired and exhausted, she nevertheless managed a wry, sarcastic grin for the cameras. "Must be a crazy day at the office, yeah?"
Some weeks ago.....
Melanie's descent into madness had been viewed through ten thousand lenses, a million cameras and endless sets of eyes. It'd started as a benign thing, the errant actions of a young woman with and endless revenue and the looks to deny any charge, no matter how absurd or, at times, downright horrible. She'd forever been able to simply shrug and flutter long lashes, she'd been able to pose and preen, the darling of the media, rising super star in a world that adored heroes. The belle of the ball, the princess of the Outback. Too good, too pretty, too smooth. She's too cute, she's too harmless. She's too stupid. That's what they'd said when they turned away from the ghastly string of murders, the blood stained armor and the viper's flat stares.
It'd started some time ago, but who in this town wasn't crazy? Who was a sane person, who didn't have dark addictions? She'd lied, she'd lied and been caught. When ten thousand cameras focus on a single creature, one so destined for such an awful ending, there could only be a single, simple and ineluctable result. Stars collapse, volcanoes explode and storm winds rip houses to shreds, casting down the work of many men and many years.
"You know, I think she lied to us. I think she lied and I think she's pretty damn good at it, Lee." Two men sat in a lavish office that looked out over the city skyline. Melanie's agents, those who had been charged with repairing the damage she'd done so often, were at a blatant loss. "Fuck. Fuck, man." Between a haze of tobacco smoke and a single glass of scotch, the two marketing specialists stared through the wall to wall windows that spanned their private domain. "At least she's still in touch with us, but why?"
Lee's business partner, Jackson, shrugged. He sat in mute silence, entirely baffled by this striking turn of events. His eyes, things creased with stress and worry, turned down to look at a hand written note that rested atop the black table.
"Let's go over what we know before we go back to that. What do we know about her"? The question was one these two hand pored over for what felt like months at a time.
"Nothin'." Drunk, Jackson slurred the single, final word. It was acceptance and condemnation, finality and the proof of a pitiless game she'd played. Played with them all, the shark steeped in bloody water and macabre mystique.
"That's not true. We know she's not eating at all. She's losing weight. She's not sleeping at all. From what she's told me, she's slipping back into...another shape? Another form, I guess? That fourth layer of reality?" He was baffled by the siren's tongue, the half truths and twisted riddles she'd plied to mercilessly on the poor men. Trapped by her money and beguiled by her enchanting beauty, they'd been simply putty in her deft fingers. Lined with poison, she'd guided them, manipulated them and created the perfect storm. This what what she'd wanted all along, a message.
"So she's tryin' to kill herself or she's lookin' to make a message, Lee." Jackson was not, not at all, from this world. Born and raised on Coruscant, he at least knew of the Mandalorian world, those most strange and evasive of people. "Either way, it's goin' to be big. She's not goin' to kill herself, Lee, so what's that leave us with? What's the message she's tryin' to get across to everyone? See, her people, they love makin' statements. Ain't nothing they love more, Lee. Told you, she's a god damn snake but the first time she hopped in your bed you just couldn't stop, had to sign us up, right?" For the first time, Lee saw desperation in Jackson's eyes. It frightened him to the very core, deep in his bones.
He'd never been so accusatory before. "Well, she was money as well, man. We're still getting paid...."
The slam of a glass upon the table stopped his words before they ever really started to carry on.
"She's been usin' us, Lee. We're mouthpieces. She's been playin' the game and beatin' us blind at it, jus' like I told you. She's smarter than us, man. She's smarter than any of us, Lee. Now shuddup an' lemme see the note."
Silently, the man who was normally in charge passed the folded slip of paper across the wide table.
There comes a time, my friends, when a message must be sent to those who are wise enough to listen. Jackson, you'll understand this more than Lee will, so this is written to you. I've built an empire for myself based on what you told me I needed to be. That was your first mistake. Trusting me was your last. What's the message? Heroes fall, Jackson. Empires topple. The strong die as they lived.
Jackson folded the note with a shrug and a final, resolute nod. "We're goin' to die. That's the message. She's fallin' apart to show the world that heroes and stars collapse. She's martyrin' herself to prove a point ain't a soul goin' to understand. You got lucky, Lee. I'd have loved her had I known her like you did. Re-....."
He spoke no more. From within the room, a blinding flash erupted around the poor souls. The top story of a tall, tall building seemed, for a moment, to be wreathed in flame. As glass incinerated and ashes were strewn to the wind, two men's worlds went up in glorious, glorious fire that burned through the night's sky.
The media that camped outside of Melanie's fighting headquarters had been poised, as they were, each and every day. The precise moment of death, the exact time and place, were too perfect to be missed. Through the bottom doors, the gym area, Melanie strode. Thin and wasted, tired and exhausted, she nevertheless managed a wry, sarcastic grin for the cameras. "Must be a crazy day at the office, yeah?"