Over Exposed

[Milk]

Marko looked over the smattering of images on the wall and those in the clear chemical bath before him. His face was wrenched in anguish and despondence. A great horror had visited upon him, slumping and slurping with hideous sound and fury. Recently the photographer had run low on chemicals for the preciously collected images born in his dark room. He had tried to get replacements from his usual dealer, but he had been recently tied up in a spice mine on some god forsaken prison planet. Marko cursed himself again and again for not testing what he was given, for accepting the many 'yeahs and uh huhs' to his questions about the chemicals. Now everything was ruined.

"EVERYTHING!" he shouted slamming his fist on the table causing his hanging images to shake as if in fear of his wrath. He looked at them all trying to create memories of their smothered perfection as one by one they faded into white. Meraningless pure white. Slamming his fists down again he place his head in his hands as he moved through his bunker toward his safe. Their was some hope that the chemicals hadn't seeped into the safe yet. Moving through the combo swiftly he opened the door and looked inside. He could barely hold the plastic binder as his rage came to fruition. White streaks already growing wider.

Years of work. Gone.

"AHHHH!" He shouted as he threw the binders one by one across the room kicked down tables and ripped up useless image after useless image. Women immortalized in perfect innocence were now dead and gone forever and it was all because his dealer had given him a compound with one two many protons.


Standing amisdt the chaos of his creation, the photographer without photos came to a singular piercing thought. Like a ball of heated copper to ice it screamed as it burned past his nihibitions to become soul screaming desire.

He was going to kill him.

Moving to gather his coat and his gun, an old slug thrower. Marko looked over and gathered his camera as well. Inspiration was everywhere after all.

He found the man in an alley after a few well placed inquiries. He was searching through the dumpster and Marko couldn't help but ask,

"Is that where you got my 'quality' product"

the man turned and saw the man bathed in a contrast of bright light and dark intention and immediately began to back away.

"I...no...no refunds."

Marko laughed

"Refund? No my friends, I've come to give you something actually."

Marko produced his gun and shot him again and again and again. The man fell back coughing blood shouting in vain into an empty apathetic night. Moving over the dying man Marko saw a glimmer of beauty. Life was palpable as it fled the mans crimson stained lips. Grabbing his camera he leaned in, growing so close to the man leaving this life. He snapped a picture and then felt it slowly produced. It was his older camera, one with instant film.

Amused, Marko looked over the image and gave it a shake. It was perfect. Casually tossing it by his victim, he found the old adage to be true. A picture really did last longer.

Walking down that dirty alley into Corellian streets the photographers wits finally caught him. He had just commited hot blooded murder. Blood was on his shoes and killing was fresh on his mind as it was on his hands. He had to move. To return to his dark room, before light exposed him forever.

 

[Emerald Apple]

Dania was actually minding her own business something that was relatively rare in her life. She had found some where to eat that looked like it wasn't going to give her food poisoning, a fact that made her evening look better than it had before and was heading back to where she was staying. She had passed by the alley way in question but didn't think much of it. As a general rule people lurking in alley ways were not up to wholesome things and the less she knew about the those things the better off she was..most of the time..unless some one was paying her to know. In this case they were not and she had passed by with out much interest.

However as luck or something else would have it she was still close enough to hear weapons fire, it was faint and mostly drowned out by foot and vehicular traffic. Dania had heard the sound of it before, and as it tended to signal something going down, and that some one might well be firing that weapon at her, she had learned to pick up on it fairly quickly. In this case she was pretty sure who ever was firing was not firing at her, that or they were a horrible shot. In any case she had turned around and headed towards the sound of the discharge.

She was moving fairly slowly trying to appear to be strolling casually in the direction of the alley, whilst keeping an eye on the crowd, for all she knew any of them could have been the weapon firer or a friend of theirs who was not keen on people getting to close to whatever was going on. Keeping that fact in mind she moved towards the street opening and rounding the corner putting her at the opening of the aforementioned alley way and the busier street, having no clue what she might have just stumbled upon.

 

[Milk]

If only his meticulous well aimed shooting extended to the barbaric use of a firearm, but alas Marko was a bit of a one trick pony. Moving away from the fresh corpse, photo still artfully placed by the victims side. The photographer strained to think what he would do if he was discovered. Feet extended into miles as he felt the generous trudge of a death row inmate. Eyes swiveled looking for any witnesses, but it seemed urban apathy may have won the day for him. He took no pleasure in the aftermath of killing, merely a swift shot of ecstasy in revenge and then emptiness. There was no framing, no setup. Many artists thrive on chaos, but photography was supposed to be the answer to that. A simple statement of black and white that choice was beauty. Purpose was bliss.

Marko thought he had purpose, then he thought he had anger. Now he has a photo and not even that. He rounded the corner into perfect anonimity passing endless faces. They may as well be blank these empty people with their empty lives waiting to be ended by time, wrath, or chance. To fall into a mire of distaste seemed to be Marko's destiny, but inspiration was everywhere. For what is the most essentail art of a photographer. That thing which draws the eye and allows all things to have their purpose.

Framing.

He could defeat this spectre of malcontent, but it would be on his terms with his talents. Marko would convince all comers, even himself, that he was what no human ever is or will be. Innocent. Turning about he began to return to the alley with demeanor changing. Before he was a man on a mission and he would return as one, but one very different all the same. Returning to the body he stooped over and began to examine it then began his photographic work anew.

To all comers he would be a journalist gathering evidence of the lack of response for even the most base of crimes. His gun hidden well away he would change the story not by changing the facts, but by shifting their perspective. Framing. All of it was framing.

 

[Khasil Johgat]

Zac stumbled out of the cantina, having had more than a few glasses of whiskey. He was lighting up another cigarette for the way to the Attecam when he heard a sound he'd recognize anywhere in the galaxy. His senses were dulled by the alcohol but he knew the sound all too well, gunfire, and it was close... He kept his right hand on the pistol strapped to his waist and walked slowly, and as straight as he could manage, towards the general direction of the sound.
He came into an alley, "The place where scum comes to die." Zac thought, and in the darkness he managed to make out the figure of a humanoid leaning over what he guessed to be the one on the receiving end of the gunfire. He stopped, crouching behind a garbage bin and observed, hand still gripping the concealed pistol.

 

[Emerald Apple]

When it became apparent she wasn't going to be shot at point blank range or snipped from above, Dania slipped into the alley. She still wasn't sure about the area the one way in and out system of an alley way made it good ambush territory. The lighting allowed her to make up a shape on the ground and she moved towards the shape.

Walking slowly she was able to move close enough to figure out what it was. "Well, damn it." She said to the empty alley not expecting a response, dead people tended to be quiet about what other people thought of their deaths. She knew enough about crime scenes to know not touch anything, or to try not to. That's all she would need, to be linked to a murder. Keeping this in mind, she crouched far enough away from the body to not disturb it but to get a good view of it.

It would be at that point she would become aware she was not alone. There was at least one other person there and he was rather ..grabby. "Who are you?" She gave him a look, not sure what kind of person was in the habit of picking over corpses.

 

[Milk]

Marko had had many moments where he had one shot. From explosions ripping apart innocent masses, to the final culminating gasp of a dying victim, the photographer had seen it all. Nothing quite matched this thrill though. To transcend the flash and become part of the scene. He had to think differently, journalism was an art in itself, but the intentions were less pure. He'd known the game far too long to consider art honest, but journalism doesn't even know truth's name.

With this in mind he began his framing. This alien was killed for a reason, a reason of passion, but something less planned and more...more....

"Hateful...simply hateful"

He began to speak to himself as he'd seen many journalists do. Perhaps into an unseen holorecorder. Moving across the victim he began to imagine the human who did this. He had to be a human of course as this was a hate crime. A racist attack on a creature for simply being different. Signs were all there, or at least they could be fabricated. Strongest steel and stone is nothing against confident assertion.

"How could someone do this"

He muttered into the night. Marko didn't know who had heard the shots, though he hoped that no one had seen him. That would be a longer explanation, or a much shorter one with a few shots and more complications. Moving away from the victim he looked around in the dark alley stumbling about as if looking for more. In a sense he certainly should be, any fragments he left behind were pieces of evidence that should be destroyed or tampered with.

As he feared and hoped he was approached. Marko tensed as the question came out. He turned expecting a badge or a gun, but neither was there. Bare inquiry was all this female had to offer and he could parry it with the same crude weapon.

"I could ask you the same. Don't you see a murder has been committed."

Marko tried to drip righteous indignation. He'd seen many a journalist and their mock horror as they secretly were gladdened that a world got glassed. It was good for ratings.

"My name is Marko, Marko Jenks of the HoloReporter. Do you know anything about this suspected hate crime?"

Marko gestured over the still fresh victim, the exposed photo sitting by it.

"I happened to be nearby and came when I heard the shots. He's dead unfortunately. Can you call the police, I was so swept up gathering photos for my column on the rise of racist attacks on Toydarian's like this fellow to think about that."

Marko was playing it close to the chest, but he had to. If he managed to pull this off he was cleared forever, but if he failed. Well it could only be his fault.

 

[Khasil Johgat]

This was all getting too weird and dammit he needed a smoke! Zac saw it all from behind the dumpster, the odd reporter, the inquisitive girl... "Why the fuck do I get into these situations I should go back home, who cares if a freaking space fly died?!" The Solephian thought. He was about to get up and walk away when his left gauntlet fired up with a holocall from Six.
"Zac where are you?! Are you wasted?! Do I need to go pick you up again?! It's the fourth freaking time this week! I AM NOT CLEANING UP YOUR VOMIT! ACID IS CORROSIVE TO DROIDS YOU PRICK!" And that was the first time in his life Zac considered melting down a droid.

 

[Emerald Apple]

Dania was pretty sure something was off at this point. Not that she could tell what the thing was exactly. The other figure seemed nervous, but there was a corpse laying in the alley way, it could be excused as a common enough reaction. Truth be told she was not entirely thrilled with the idea of chatting next to the dead, but she had enough practice that she could more or less look far more composed than she was most of time. For now she assumed he was simply nervous about the body, that did not mean she trusted him enough to turn his back.

"Murder? Yes. We'll go with that for now. Of course he could have just as easily did himself, happens all the time, although if I were him I could think of a dozen other places I would rather kill myself." She stood up, deciding who ever he was she was at the disadvantage where she has been. "Dania Liagri." She declined to mention where she was from it tended to make life more difficult and it was becoming that way all on it's own it seemed.

His request to contact the police seemed reasonable enough, even if he did strike her as add, it wasn't her job to pass judgement on reporters no matter how odd their first impressions might be. She was just getting ready to contact the aforementioned police when she thought she heard something from behind a pile of well..trash. She paused to see if she was in fact right or simply seeing things in the dark.

 

[Milk]

So many angles to play with, murder, suicide, hate crime. All of these were useful tools in Marko's kit. This was a new type of photography, raw and de guerre. Things were off kilter, but this was the exact moment where truth came to life. It's brief screaming life before sinking back to be replaced by stone and normalcy. He must take on this new role with conviction. Marko figured he was a freelancer with little connection to the area, he has covered wars so this bit of death didn't bother him all that much. This was paramount, but could not be stated. Death never bothered Marko, but it could only be implied as to why.

This woman, Dania Liagri was proving quite useful. As she was to call the police that would lead to less mention of him down the road of investigation. Thousands of murders occur upon this world every week on this planet of trillions, it's safe to say most get swept under the rug. Thus the social contact is preserved. It was at this time that the blaring phone alighted and Marko was alerted to the presence of yet another in this alley now containing four if one counts bodies, 3 if one counts people, and untold billions if one counts the living as insects and rats littered this unkempt filthy place.

"Who goes there?!" Marko called out as he whipped out his camera in a fit of inspiration the flash of his shots alighting a figure skulking in the dark. "Did you do this?!" he shouted, his voice acid with the poison of accusation. Guilt did not matter for the sake of justice, this blind lady simply desired blood for blood and Marko was happy to give it to her.

 

[Khasil Johgat]

Zac was hit by the flash of the man's camera before he could even react. His eyes were stunned by the sudden brightness of the flash and that really annoyed him, he hated trigger-happy reporters. "Hey calm down you lunatic!" Zac shouted, covering his eyes from the camera flashes. Well this was nice, Six was sooo going to pay for ruining his cover. "I heard the gunfire and I came to take look, that's when I saw you leaning over the body." Zac explained. He could feel the tension in the air, a dead body tends to do that, but he knew that all of them looked suspicious. The reporter was leaning over the dead body when he got there, the woman appeared conveniently quickly and he was crouching down behind a dumpster, this was a royal f*ck up. He took a cigarette out of his pack and light it. "I'm Tenjand, and who would you two be?" He asked, lying about his name in the process because the Solephian had a feeling this would not end well for him.

 

[Emerald Apple]

She turned in time to hear were the voice was coming from, or at least enough for her to guess where the voice was coming from. She assumed he, judging by the sound of the voice, she assumed it was another male over there. Or maybe it was the murderer and he simply threw himself behind the trash when he heard people approaching. All she knew for sure was she was not the one who killed ..who ever was lying in the alley way. As far as she was concerned any one else in the galaxy could be guilty of the crime.

One thing at a time though. As who ever it was over there wasn't launching himself at her to attack, she saw no reason not to answer his question. "Dania." She gave her first name, after all so did he and she had recently given her whole name, there was no need to repeat herself. "Who goes there?"She muttered never having met some one who would use that phrasing.

"Why are you lurking behind the trash?" She had to ask.

 

[Milk]

This was going quite well. Guilt was flowing throughout the alley like the blood still pouring from the recently deceased not far from them. It wouldn't be so long before the stink of decay forced these key witnesses from the alley and by then Marko would be long gone. Marko was quite amused by the man astute observation, but he wasn't quite a lunatic. Lunacy indicated the cycle of the moon was responsible for one's mental unrest. Marko required no such prerequisite.

"That's a likely story," he remarked dryly to this 'Tenjand', "I'm Marko Jenks of The HoloReporter"

Hearing Dania's apt accusation, he smirked. This was easier than he might have thought. Still complications must always arise as the blare of sirens erupted bathing the trio in red and blue light. Turning swiftly he faced his greatest challenge yet. Two figures emerged from the police vehicle one barking orders to the other. The barker was a small person and bathed in the dim flickering light of the alley, Marko was surprised to see a sprig of red hair peeking from their police hat. Meanwhile the one being barked at was a large lumbering fellow with a sloppy gait.

"Cordon both exits to the alley, gather all witnesses, mark the resting place of the remains, get me a coffee!"

"Yes ma'am, right away ma'am, absolutely ma'am, with or without milk ma'am?"

As the two approached Marko stood fast until he was only a few feet away from this new threat. She looked over the trio and shouted,

"You three line up I'll have your version of events right now,"

This was a test of his great artistry. To frame and cut loose all things. To make doubt out of certainty and shadow out of light. Marko was shaking, not from fear, but for something he thought he could only feel moments before the death of innocence. It was exhilaration. Pure and powerful. Oh this would be fun.

 

[Khasil Johgat]

Zac mentally cursed Six for blowing his cover, he was honestly considering melting down the droid. He quickly texted Six "If I don't show up in three days you know who to call. Got involved in a murder case." before walking to the area the officer had pointed at. He finished his cigarette and waited for the officer to began questioning them.

(OOC: sorry for the shot replies, been short on time :s)

 

[Emerald Apple]

She had been focused on the male behind the trash she had missed the tell tale signs of police arriving in the area. She would have to have to behave herself now. While she did not actually kill any one, she was aware it looked very much like she could have. Something she would have to try to avoid looking like she did. As they approached she was careful to adopt a causal stance. If she looked tense they would assume she had something to hide.

Trying to run would be pointless and only end with her being shot, besides that her face would be plastered on every port before she could even think about trying to find a shuttle off world. No, in this case her best bet was to let the local law enforcement have their way with her and simply hope they would be quick with her. She stood calmly and allowed them to approach. She listened with one ear as they talked among them selves.

"Ask him, he was here first." She gestured at Marko.

 

[Milk]

Marko was in the thick of it now, the final click. It was said a sniper must shoot in between breaths and in the same way a photographer must take his shot in the very center of a moment. Pressure and heat crashing upon him like the birth of a new brilliant star, this was it. This was the endless moment. His eyes were everywhere at once. He saw the larger policeman obediently moving off to do the smaller officer's requests. He saw this 'Tenjand' fellow tapping something within his coat, no doubt some desperate plea or last second information. Then she saw the finger pointed squarely at him by Dania and nodded sagely. Go straight for the jugular, well played.

Turning to the smaller officer his red hair nearly blinding he flashed a disarming smile and oozed so much cheese it would be a death sentence to the lactose intolerant. Unfazed the officer walked up until they were right below Marko. He tried not to laugh as their head barely reached above his waist and their tiny hand formed yet another accusatory finger,

"Alright smiles, what's your story,"

Coughing into his hand he said simply,

"May I see your badge?"

This led to a small pause as the officer's eyes narrowed only to be met by the equally narrowed gaze of Marko. After a moment of sparring the officer produced their badge. Reading over it, seeing the imposing hawk symbol of this departments predatory hunting, Marko nodded,
"Forgive me Officer Rivers, I simply like to do things by the book. My name is Marko Jenks, I'm a journalist for the HoloReporter,"

Officer Rivers ignored him and immediately activated a device that searched that name in databases all across the holonet. Eyes scrunching they replied,

"Says here you are a photographer."

Hand pressing against the back of his head he smiled and said,

"Once upon a time, but I had to find a true job and working for this startup seemed like a place to keep at least some of my passion alive. I really need to update my net presence."

After that the officer began asking the other two their names to look them up as well. Heres hoping everyone was honest.

 

[Khasil Johgat]

The comically short officer turned to him, and Zac remained quiet. Jaw tightned, features cold and hard as durasteel. The alcohol from a long night in the cantina was still in his system, he was tired from a long day of work and all of this was making him want another smoke.
It all seemed too familiar. The officer who thinks she's some big shot, the obedient traitors... It all went back to that dreadful night General Taxo was executed and the Confederate troops stormed the resistance base, treating them like criminals.
"Yes aren't you going to ask me something?!" He relented, tired of the silent game he and the midget were playing.
The officer started at him from head to toe, before asking, "Name, occupation and how did you come about this scene?"
"Otof Taxo, born on Coruscant, unemployed. I was leaving Jo'n's Corner when I head gunfire and decided to take a look." He replied dryly. The officer looked him up and moments later, she looked back at him with an ice cold stare.
"Says here you work for Kamta Transportations." The midget pointed.
"Should also say my contact ended today and that my landing permit expires in three days, so if you take too long with this I'm expecting that the department will cover my expenses."

 

[Emerald Apple]

Dania waited for her turn, unlike the other two she had stated she was on world for pleasure not business, which was more or less the truth. Of course if she were here for anything involving business it would rise a few eye brows and so, she would have lied even if it was the truth. Of course her not getting into trouble had been side railed when this happened. Any time law enforcement was involved it was not a good time as far as she was concerned.

She smiled sweetly as she handed over her information. "Between jobs." She added friendly as she could. The good thing about her family was while her father was in truth neither famous enough nor inclined to actually support her the fact he was involved in the artistic community allowed people to jump to their own conclusions about how people were spoon feed credits. " I see." The officer gave her a mildly disapproving look apparently not fond of people living whatever strange lives people like her lead. But, beyond that one little lie all documents were legit and through proper channels. No need to run risks when one did not have to.

She waited to see what would happen next. It would be her luck that they would all be pulled in for questioning and there would go any sleep she was planning to get for the night.

 

[Milk]

Marko's lips pursed into a thin line. Either all good liars, or boringly innocent. This would not do. As the intial questions ended, the large officer arrived and gave Officer Rivers their coffee. Making a grunt of approval, the officer sipped as he looked over the body for quite awhile. As they did this the big dumb officer stood by quite big and quite dumb and Marko had a thought. He didn't want this. This stretching out of tension. It was not so much thrilling as it was suffocating. If freedom for him meant slavery for the rest so be it, there was only the self after all. The photographer could lie all night and walk home, fly off world, never be seen again, but so much of that was shouting into a void wasting precious hours of overly pointless exsistence.

So Marko turned and began to leave. Silently, swiftly. He was nearly at the alley's exit when he was touched by the big meaty paw of the lumbering larger officer. Composition, angle, framing, all of these made a photographer into an artist. However, what seperated the artist from the amateur was a simple thing called,

Excecution.

"Uh sir you..."

"My coat,"

Marko let those words lay still. There it was, that thing he sensed was all wrong, what no lie could cover. There was a patch of blood on his coat. Slowly removing it he held it before the large officer then let it drop. As it fell, he pulled out his slugthrower and shot through it into the man's heart. He likely never saw death before it's embrace was fully upon him. This would be the only mercy Marko would dispense this night. Turning face he began to run out of the alley straight across a busy street of landspeeder and swoopbikes. He nearly made it across, when he was clipped by a motorist. Spinning in disarray he crashed into the curb.

Covered in the worst of the street's mire, Marko spit a mixture of wet dirt and blood and continued on his way. He did not look back and he checked his gun. He had two shots left and no other ammunition in sight. He looked the part of a killer this time there would be no going quietly into mother night. More than likely he would become a know criminal and perhaps even earn a bounty. He'd have to survive the night of course and spend the rest of his life looking over his back. Still there was a certain feeling that gripped him as his stride quickened.

Relief.

The dark monster hidden away was free. For the first time in his life he wore no mask. It was horrendous, dark, and wild. It was in all things beautiful.

Now to kill more people.