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Oct 4, 2012 18:30:19 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 4, 2012 18:30:19 GMT -5
It was late at night in a classy bar, one devoid of the ubiquitous Twi'lek dancing girls and swinging music. It was hazy, filled with tabac smoke from the same five or six people. The sound of ice cubes hitting the edges of glasses weren't actually audible, because there was one bit of music underway.
It wasn't swinging, but there was a Twi'lek.
Varulla'aba was clutching a microphone in her ghost white hands, and crooning into it with all her heart and soul. The result was something that truly astonished her. If she wasn't a professional swoop racer she could easily have made a fall-back career of singing.
Karaoke seemed so below her. But, she was several drinks into the bottle, and her heart ached. It had for two days, ever since Koeing came back into her life only to leave it for good. She could never see him again, could never kiss him again or let her fingers brush against his cheek. The one man she'd grown close to, wanted. Gone from her reach.
"He could have been my boy... But I'm not that girl..."
Var sang the last words of the popular stage song before putting the mic back into the stand, trudging back over to the bar and sitting on a stool, slamming her hand on the table for the same thing she'd been drinking all night. It was a fruity mixture that tasted so easy going down. It didn't feel like the alcohol it was. Of course she was still sad. But she didn't mind it so much, like she did when she was sober.
Her words weren't quite slurring yet, but it was a matter of time before they did.
The slender Twi'lek woman wasn't clad in any of her usual attire this time. Not the cargo pants and tank top she wore while working on her swoop, or the black racing suit with all its pouches. Instead she was wearing a dress, and heels of all things. Blazinda had told her to do it.
The half-Epicanthix woman had advised Var to look pretty and go have fun at the bar, to forget about her worries. Var had taken the advice to a small degree. Of course she'd had Blazinda find the dress, and mercifully the back wasn't too low. It covered most of the spiderweb of scars present on the girl's back, relics of her time as slave to a cruel master.
The bartender slid her another drink and gave her a sympathetic look.
"Miss Dia, you've been here all night. Why don't you go home?"
Var took a sip of the drink and then started to trace the lip of the glass with her finger. She made a soft sigh but ignored the question completely, looking despondent and alone.
She pulled her headtails back off her shoulders, realizing that they were more likely to cover her scars when they were behind her back. Then she realized she really didn't care. What did it matter? What did any of it matter?
The Twi'lek sipped her drink again, and asked herself if this was the way she wanted to spend her life. It wasn't. She'd wanted love, which was a dream that was never going to happen. It was sad that after 26 years of life she'd already found her love, only to lose it.
Nothing good ever lasts.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 4, 2012 19:09:15 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 4, 2012 19:09:15 GMT -5
Horst tugged at his collar uncomfortably, trying to get it to stretch a little and not hug his neck so much. For a change, he was dressed rather formerly; a nice shirt, a well-tailored coat, and a set of fine silk trousers. He wasn't used to being dressed this well.
And he was hating every second of it.
Ethan had sent him out to Ahto City to try and see if Spearpoint could potentially get a direct flow of kelto to Oatara in an attempt to keep any future dying soldiers a little less dead. Horst had been talking with Selkaths all morning, but so far negotiations hadn't been going well. The water-born natives were too suspicious of the large Corellian, especially when we wouldn't divulge as to the exact business he was a part of that would need its own kelto shipments.
So, after his 5th failed attempt, Horst had thrown in the towel and found a nice bar.
To be fair, the ex-smuggler usually preferred the more casual, less classy joints, where you could walk in, get a warm drink, watch the news or a sport for a while, chew the fat if you were so inclined, and walk out of your own accord. Unfortunately for him, Manaan only hosted two two types of bars; the seedy, desperate ones where dancing Twi'leks danced seductively in skimpy outfits to crappy club music, or classy, high-end bars where you weren't supposed to be too loud and could watch a performer or karaoke.
Given the choice between the two, Horst had gone with the one with at least a little class. So, there he was, listening to some girl pour her heart out on an open mic with a pretty nice voice with his collar undone and his shirt un-tucked.
Oh well. At least he'd been able to get a good whiskey.
The singing finally stopped, and a pale-looking Twi'lek in a nice dress came over and knocked lightly on the counter for her drink. Horst only watched out of the corner of his eye as she got some frilly-looking bit of alcohol and ignored the bartender, a large near-Human who looked a little concerned. The Twi'lek shifted her headtails and sat there, looking a little sad.
For a moment, Horst did nothing. He simply sat, looking at her without directly looking at her, sipping his whiskey, and occasionally pulling at his under-shirt's collar. His natural curiosity began to rise ever so little, and eventually he worked up the drive to ask her something. She looked like she could use a friend.
"Ya' sing well." Horst looked over with a small smile, trying to look nice. His size betrayed him a bit, as did his stubble and rough looks, but nevertheless his face seemed cheery.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 4, 2012 19:20:44 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 4, 2012 19:20:44 GMT -5
Var looked up as the human man nearby complimented her on her singing, which actually marked the first time someone besides the bartender had talked to her since the crowd had started thinning.
Seemed like no one was interested in sad girls. It was probably in her favor, because if she did make a mistake drunk she'd never get over it while sober. Back on Murkhana she'd been drunk, and had sworn it off.
Murkhana. Lying in a hospital, Koeing by her side. The taste of his lips against hers. Bliss, peace.
All gone. Now here she was alone again, trying to be happy and failing so miserably. She had all the coping mechanisms of a dead cat. All she could do was deal with it, endure it. Not stop it, not ease the pain. She tried to ask herself what Donnie would do, and then she remembered her friend was pregnant now from that.
Besides, she wasn't the younger girl. She couldn't throw herself at men. She couldn't love a thousand different men in the same way. All she wanted was one, just one man to love in a thousand ways. She'd had one too, right there, real and tangible rather than in some dream. Var took one more sip of her drink before she answered the man.
"Earlier they told me it was a gift. That I was lucky."
The pale woman drained her glass and motioned for another, tapping her foot against the rail of the bar in a steady rhythm. Gift. Lucky. Yeah, maybe she was all right. But not in the way she needed. Not in the way that mattered.
"Yeah, real lucky," Var said bitterly, the sarcasm thick in her voice. "Can't think of another girl quite so lucky as me."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 4, 2012 19:41:04 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 4, 2012 19:41:04 GMT -5
Horst nodded as the Twi'lek answered him, saying how people had told her that it was a gift. No one had ever said that to him, and so he agreed; that made her damn lucky. All he had ever done for a living was break things, put them back together, and then use them to break more things. It was a skill, he supposed, but a far throw from a gift.
Singing was magical and wonderful. Singing came from the he-
The Twi'lek got sarcastic, and shot herself down. Horst frowned. He hadn't realized that she was actually so sad. Sure, she had seemed a tad glum and her topic of song hadn't been very uplifting, but he'd figured that she was a bit of an artist and that was she did; communicated feelings at will.
Apparently not. Horst grabbed his drink and hopped a few seats over, settling down again with only a single empty stool between him and this down-in-the-dumps woman. She looked young. Way young. And beyond that, she looked hurt. Horst doubted that she would talk to him about much, but he tried anyway.
After all, he'd never gotten anywhere without trying. And tonight, he decided, he'd try and help this poor girl out. His voice became stoic and strong, and yet his tone was supportive and kind.
"What's wrong, hon?"
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 4, 2012 20:01:42 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 4, 2012 20:01:42 GMT -5
After her bout of sarcasm Var could instantly tell she was resorting to one of her old ways. She was bottling her anger up inside herself, and letting small amounts of it leak out in the form of her bitterness and vitriol.
And here she'd thought going grey had taken all the Sith out of her.
The anger faded with guilt, and she lowered her head to her hands, rubbing her temples as she felt the alcohol wash over her senses. She'd been pacing herself all night, and now it was catching up with her. Her stubbornness was washed away, like a stain gone from a shirt, and her discretion was gone.
Certainly her barriers were down, and she was very much like putty that could be easily manipulated by anyone at all. She wasn't even trying. Her secrecy? Abandoned. Her inhibitions? All but gone. Her self-preservation? Pathetic. Her attitude? Still present, but woeful.
She still found it in her to protest feebly, and to withhold some details.
"You probably don't care. I just lost my love... One... two? A few days ago. We can't see each other again, ever. And I loved him so much. He's the only man I ever loved, the only one who ever loved me."
Var wiped her teary eyes with the back of her hand and slammed the counter to demand another drink. To her annoyance, the bartender shook his head.
"You've had enough Dia."
Var groaned and stood up, stumbling in her heels, her head spinning. She felt like her eyes were in the depths of her head, and she was looking out through a great distance. The feeling faded after a minute, when she steadied herself. Then she grumbled.
She looked over her shoulder at the bartender before walking shakily out the doors and into the night air, not even bothering to see if the human was next to her.
Var was unsteady, and she was oblivious. Her head was spinning again, and just as she was taking a breath of air to sober up, someone grabbed her from behind and shoved her against a wall, pinning her hands.
She screamed.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Oct 4, 2012 20:25:43 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 4, 2012 20:25:43 GMT -5
Horst's face became neutral as the Twi'lek explained her hurt. She was heart-broken; a story he'd heard a number of times over the years. It was a tale that was just as sad the fifth or sixth time you heard as it was the first. It usually came from a poor, young soul like this girl (she was a girl in Horst's eyes) who had fallen head-over-heels for some other poor, young soul, and ended up being separated. Sometimes it was that the other soul was just an ass. Sometimes the other soul was stolen away.
But the worst, in Horst's imagination, was when the other soul was robbed away by life. He reached out a hand to pat her shoulder, but she pounded on the bar again, demanding another drink. The near-Human guy behind the counter claimed, rather wisely in Horst's opinion, that she'd had enough, and the Twi'lek stumbled toward the door, looking back once in the bar's direction.
Horst returned her dazed stare with a calm, sad one. He hated seeing people so hurt.
The Twi'lek stumbled outside, and Horst sighed. Opening up his wallet, the Engineer slapped down a few credits. "I'll pay for her." The bartender nodded before collecting the glasses and stowing the credits away in his own pocket. Horst sighed again, and then meandered toward the door, hoping the Twi'lek girl hadn't gone yet.
As he opened the door, a scream rang out.
Kicking it into high-gear, Horst bolted out of the bar to see the pale girl being pulled into an alley by large hands. Dashing around the corner, Horst met the sight of a burly Trandoshan hissing in pleasure as he held the young woman up against the side of the bar. One of the slimy hands was around her throat, and another bee-lined for her waist.
"Hey!" Horst stepped behind the molester and brought his elbow around his neck. Luckily they were rather equal in size, and the Trandoshan immediately recalled his groping paws to try and free himself. Horst dragged him back a few feet before throwing the creep with a heave of his upper-body. The reptilian tumbled to the ground out in the street, and Horst puffed his chest out, making it clear he wasn't to be trifled with.
He spoke in a lethal tone, commanding, "Back off."
The Trandoshan got up and rubbed a cut he'd gotten on his chin. He hissed again, retorting, "Make me grandpa'!" He jogged up and threw a punch straight for the Engineer's face. Horst was ready, however, and blocked it upwards with his left hand. His right was loaded, and came to bash the rapist's face in.
Down fell the Trandoshan, and there he stayed gripping his head before scampering off, not willing to put any more effort into keeping his catch. Horst watched him go, not peeling his gaze away until the creep was good and gone. Shaking out his hand from the punch, he turned to check on the Twi'lek.
"You okay?" He hoped gravely that he hadn't been too late.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 4, 2012 20:39:58 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 4, 2012 20:39:58 GMT -5
Var felt panic welling up inside her, but if she could just get one hand free...
The weight was pried off of her back, and the man from the bar sprang into action, fighting her attacker, who she could see now was a Trandoshan. Filthy lizard. Disgusting, disgraceful.
He was slammed in the face, and tumbled to the ground, before scampering off. As far as the human man was concerned, it was over. As far as the Trandoshan was concerned, it was over.
As far as Var was concerned, it was not.
Within an instant of the threat being removed, her fear transitioned into anger. Then into rage. Within seconds she was seething with the Dark Side of the Force, power rippling off of her. Her rage demanded she act.
More than her pride had been at stake. More than her dignity. She would take revenge. She would prove she wasn't some helpless girl.
Var reached down and ripped off the high heels from her feet before hissing loudly and sprinting after the Trandoshan, using the Force to enhance her speed. Drunk or not, she was the huntress now. She was going to do what had to be done.
She was strong.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Two sets of conflicting training were racing through her head, and she dismissed them both with a roar of rage, her vision practically red as she seethed with hate.
The Trandoshan stopped and saw the Twi'lek woman racing for him. And he did something she couldn't stand. He laughed.
"Little girl thinks she can scratch?"
Var extended both her hands and instantly a torrent of electrical energy shot out from her fingertips, the blue-white glow of it lighting up the alley, and it ensnared the overgrown lizard, wracking his body. He screamed. He kept screaming, and still she let the energy flow into his body. The would-be rapist screamed for mercy and she kept up her attack.
Finally he twitched and lay still. Only then did she lower her hands and stop the flow. She breathed heavily, and then her hands started to shake. She stared at them. She stared at the body.
Var took a few steps back, her mind regaining its footing as her body lost its own. Her eyes were wide with horror, and she stumbled. She would have fallen if a wall hadn't been there. She fell against it and sank down. And then she started to cry, pulling her legs up to her chest and shaking heavily.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 4, 2012 21:08:12 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 4, 2012 21:08:12 GMT -5
Horst had turned and asked his question to the young woman's heels, as she took off bolting down the street after the would-be rapist. He took off after her, yelling at her to let it go. He couldn't understand; was she angry? Was she just running blindly?
Before he could yell out any of his questions, the Trandoshan had stopped and begun laughing at his purser, asking aloud if she thought she could "scratch" him.
To his credit, he wasn't scratched. Horst stopped dead in his tracks as the girl raised her hands and output a stream of lightning into the criminal. His body shook and jerked and twitched as his muscles spasmed with the electricity. He pleaded and begged between bouts of simply wailing in pain.
And after a minute of being the brightest thing in the alley, he fell, dead.
Horst stared with horror. The memories shocked him like the bolt of lightning; a maniac with a red beam of death shocking Republic troopers, his friends and allies and brothers writhing the same way, gasping for their last breaths as they screamed horridly.
And the smile. That hideous smile that the maniac, that animal, that ABOMINATION had smeared on his face the whole time. Horst would never forget it. And now, here he stood in the middle of an alley in Ahto City years later, reliving the same sight.
His body was frozen. His arms were up in the defense of himself and his eyes. When the light of the living man, slimy though he had been, frying alive had ended, he still didn't move. He breathed heavy, wishing the Ahto port-authority had allowed him to keep his weapons. He wished he could have simply grabbed his revolver and shot. At what? Everything and anything.
Just to kill the image from his mind.
After a few minutes had passed, Horst looked around his arms, still in place in front of his face. He saw two things. The first was the Trandoshan, dead as a door nail, smoking and charring slightly as he lay lifeless on the ground. His pleas for mercy were replaced by stone-like silence. His tears of pain were dry and evaporated.
And the other sight? A pale, hurt young woman with smoking finger-nails curled up in a ball against a wall, crying.
Horst finally dropped his arms, his feet still glued to the street. He looked on in terror and amazement between the smoking body and the crying girl.
An image of death, destruction, and cruelty, and an image of sadness, fear, and helplessness.
For a moment, Horst was quiet. He wanted to yell at this woman. He wanted to cry with her. He wanted to help her. He wanted to kill her. Yes, kill her. Walk up to her now while they were in this alley, where no one would be able to see, and grab her from behind and choke her, or snap her neck, or beat her to death. Horst had been able to get over Ervisa and those forcies that didn't kill in droves, but this was different.
This woman deserved to die.
And yet, something kept Horst from buying that. The last guy had smiled and cackled and relished in the fighting, the destruction he had caused, almost like it was his duty to cause it. He had actually enjoyed frying people to death.
This woman wasn't smiling. Not even a little.
And just like that, the anger vanished. The terror was still there, but now it only contended with a wish to see if she was alright.
Even still, Horst stepped back once. Then again. Then once more. He stopped though, slowly tackling his fear. It was far stronger than that Trandoshan had been, but he managed to combat it in its respective field of battle. And so he stood, staring, his mouth agape slightly, trying not to turn tail and bolt.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 4, 2012 21:24:02 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 4, 2012 21:24:02 GMT -5
The smell of burned alien flesh filled Var's nostrils, and she coughed as she cried, weeping like a little girl, tears streaming down her cheeks, bare feet splayed at an angle in the dirty alley, her black dress dirty now, and up at her thighs. She was a mess. She looked filthy, and ragged.
But that was nothing compared to how she felt.
Var buried her face in her hands and rocked back and forth, only one thought in her mind.
I'm a bad person.
Over and over again that came back to her, echoing in her mind in every possible way. I'm a terrible person. I'm a Sith. I'm not worth being alive. And she thought back to something she'd once said. I'm not a good person Donnie.
Once before she'd murdered a man. The cause had been much less, but the method had been very similar. When she'd done it, she'd been a Sith. A merciless Sith, cold-blooded and cruel. Since then... She'd liked to think she'd changed. She'd left the Sith, she'd taken up a normal life, but... This.
It was like nothing had changed. She was still evil. She was still cruel. She was merciless.
She deserved to die as much as he did.
The pale Twi'lek girl rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball crying as hard as she could, uncertain of everything. Maybe she had deserved to stay in prison for her whole life. Maybe the Republic had been right.
Varulla'aba was a dangerous Sith. A threat to others. A murderer.
The slender woman lying on the ground of a dank alley crying was a murderess.
Finally the tears started to dry, and Var pulled her headtails up over her shoulders, hugging them to her breast the way she'd done as a small child. The way she'd felt secure and safe.
Her life was forfeit once again. She had to make a choice between running, hiding her guilt, going back to prison, or... Ending it.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 5, 2012 15:24:45 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 5, 2012 15:24:45 GMT -5
For another few minutes, Horst stood statuesque, trying to absorb what he had just seen in a way that wouldn't reduce him to the same degree of murderous intent she had held. Or simple panic. Or both.
Within him, another one of his classic battles raged. On the side was him, his determination, his courage, and his sheer ability to control himself. The other side was composed of his fear, his lack of ability to understand what had just happened, and his lack of ability to deal with what had just happened.
As the war raged, he managed to close his mouth, and his eyes began to burn rather intensely with stress. His breathing didn't relax; if anything it intensified. His hands became shaky at his sides. His legs quaked. His entire body was on edge.
I should run.
I should scream.
I should get as far away as I can.
She's one of THEM. One of THOSE.
She'll kill me next. Just like the others.
Horst's thinking quickly deteriorated, and it took all he had not to simply run. For once in his life, the Engineer was genuinely afraid for his life. He didn't want to die; he'd just found a new reason to live. He had a girlfriend (sort of). He had comrades. He had a reason to get up in the morning and smile. He'd found the happiness in life again, and he knew that against someone like this, all the fighting in the world wouldn't be enough to save it.
But still, his mind demanded one last question before he screamed. One last inquiry before he ran.
One last sentence before his slaughter.
"Why..." Horst's tone was soft and shakey, his breath uneven and wavering. He only asked loud enough for the woman to hear him.
"Why did you do that?!" He screamed at the poor, crying little girl he saw, little though she wasn't, trying not to join her in her tears. He couldn't understand how this fragile thing could wreak such a wretched act.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 15:39:37 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 5, 2012 15:39:37 GMT -5
Var peered up at Horst when he started to scream, the look on her face that of a frightened child, afraid of harm. She was petrified, rooted to her corner of floor, and as he screamed she managed to press even closer to the wall, her back flush against the hard material. Her eyes were streaming tears, and every fiber of her being exuded pure terror and despair.
Her anger was completely gone, replaced instead by sadness, now by fear he would harm her, and the self-hatred that hoped he would harm her. She deserved to be hurt. If he strangled her here in this alley, it was what she deserved. Death.
She had no place in the world. She could put on her dress, she could even put on make up and go out to eat. But she couldn't change what was in her heart, she couldn't hide the festering cancer that was the dark side.
The Twi'lek girl couldn't control her hate. The fact that she was drunk never even crossed her mind as a cause. It was all her, all what resided deep inside her. The alcohol was irrelevant.
In response to his screams, Var cried harder, trying hard to answer in words, punctuated by loud sobs.
"I'm- Sorry... I... It's all my fault. I'm- I'm such a bad person. I deserve to die."
The pale woman's last sentence was a call to action to herself, and contorting on the ground she struck her head into the wall, hard, again and again. A trickle of crimson blood appeared on her alabaster skin, streaming down to mingle with her tears. It was perfectly clear that Var would bludgeon herself into a coma if she wasn't stopped.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 5, 2012 16:02:35 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 5, 2012 16:02:35 GMT -5
The grip of Horst's terror eased a bit as the Sith began to cry without limit, berating herself and claiming that she deserved to die. Horst was glad for a moment that his anger was gone; otherwise he might have indulged her.
That's when she began to punish herself, smashing her own skull into the wall she had forced herself up against.
Horst merely stared for a moment, taking a second to process what he was seeing. Fortunately, the man was decisive, and immediately leapt into action on instinct, dashing forward and pulling her away from the wall. With forceful hands, Horst lifted her up by her hands, holding her at a distance in front of himself.
As soon as he stopped moving, he stared, half horrified and half mesmerized.
His terror exploded. He wasn't just close to this woman, he was holding her. They were in actual physcial contact. His instinct and his fear screamed at him, demanding that he let go or smack her or just do something to ensure that she wouldn't hurt him.
And at the same time, he managed to think one small thought. One thought that brought his fear and his panic to rest. He looked at her crying, bleeding face and imagined her self-mutilation and her sadness and even her rage. And that's when he realized...
She's a person. Horst couldn't believe, despite what he wanted to believe, that this young woman, this girl practically, could do something like this. But she had. He had seen it, clear as day. And yet here he held her, sobbing and bleeding, trying to kill herself even.
Like it or not, she was sentient. And though he'd like nothing more than to just ditch her, Horst's hands held firm. He spoke again, his voice still uneven, but this time a little commanding. "Stop it."
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 16:14:34 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 5, 2012 16:14:34 GMT -5
Strong arms pulled Var away from the wall, lifting her up. In response she flailed weakly, making a half-hearted attempt at resistance, her head now wracked with a splitting pain, her vision blurred by tears.
She tried hard to protest, but all that came out were sobs.
Her strength failed her, and Var's legs wobbled. She fell back onto Horst, her head resting against his shoulder, her tears ceasing as she became too tired to cry any more.
She was weak, and she was fully spent.
Var stared up at him with enormous green eyes, bloodshot and red. She wished she had someone to hold her tight, to kiss her on the cheek and tell her everything would be all right. Instead, she was alone in an alley with a stranger.
For a split second she wished Koeing was back by her side. And then a fresh wave of shame washed over her. He would have been so disappointed in her reaction, disheartened by her weakness. She couldn't have borne it.
Truly their lives lay down different paths. And she wished her path was over.
"Let me die," Var whispered to the stranger as she felt her consciousness slipping away. Then everything started to fade, darkness pulling at the edge of her vision.
"I'm afraid..."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Oct 5, 2012 16:42:36 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 5, 2012 16:42:36 GMT -5
Horst resisted the urge to step back again as the young woman fell into his chest, crying again. Before he could work up the aptitude to do something, she stared up at him with big, sad, blood-shot green eyes, pleading with him weakly with him to simply let her die. As he could see her becoming faint, she simply spoke of her fear.
Horst's own terror twinged a bit. He was still a little terrified, and the fact that this Sith was leaning on his chest half-conscious sobbing her brains out distressed him. As he looked into her big eyes, however, his fear ebbed a little more, giving him the courage to at least smooth out his breathing. He wasn't in danger... at the moment.
Horst held up his arms slightly, unsure of what to do. This poor girl was obviously damaged; she'd just killed a man with a god-like power and then started trying to kill herself. Horst still held her wrists, uncertain. Should he help her? Should he just leave her there to carry out her suicidal agenda? Part of him said yes, but by this point he was slowly reclaiming his usual personality, and that part said no.
Horst Stellar may have been scared, but he couldn't in good conscious just leave this Sith. She was one of THOSE, surely, but more than that, she was a hurt little girl, and Horst Stellar didn't leave hurt little girls.
Slowly overcoming his fear, Horst managed to bring his arms around softly in a sort of awkward hug, resting his palms, one on top of the other, on the woman's shoulder blade. He swallowed before exhaling deeply, refilling his lungs slowly. He managed to slowly form a few words, trying not to vomit as his fear and his discomfort gripped his stomach. His voice lost its shakiness, but retained its clear tenseness.
"Shhhhhhhhhhh.... shhhhhhhhh... okay..." He patted her with his palm slowly, tenderly, almost afraid that anything he did would send her into another bout of lightning-endorsed killing.
But no. This wasn't some evil demon with the power to kill on command, he told himself.
She's just a girl... just a hurt little girl...
"Shhhhhhhh... it'll be okay..." Horst closed his eyes, trying to kill off the last of his fear with one final mental push. He succeeded partially, sighing deeply.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 16:58:04 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 5, 2012 16:58:04 GMT -5
The stranger said soft words, soothing words, but Var could barely hear them. She registered only the tone, focusing on them even as everything went black, the alcohol and the head trauma conspiring to rob the Twi'lek girl of her consciousness.
It'll be okay...
It'll be okay...
Darkness took her, and everything went completely black in Var's mind. There was no trace of thought, or even of emotion. It was simply nothingness, without even the benefit of a last coherent thought.
Everything stayed black for too long, and then all of a sudden her senses started to return. She was conscious of a heaving in her chest, and then bolting awake. Her breathing was rapid, her pupils dilated.
The first thing she noticed was a Selkath doctor holding a needle of some sort, and then as he plunged it into her arm she went black again.
The pale woman's next sensation was of something soft underneath her, and she opened her eyes tentatively, seeing ceiling tiles. Instantly she was transported back to Murkhana, and she looked to her side expecting to see Koeing again, the way he'd been at her side the last time she woke up from blackness.
Instead she saw a Selkath looming over her and she remembered. They were still on Manaan, where she lived now. She'd killed a man. Murdered him.
A wave of nausea took her, and the nurse held up a bin to catch the vomit that spewed out. Then he gently pressed her back down to a less vertical position and told her that was to be expected, that she'd suffered head trauma.
Everything would be all right he said, and that she merely needed to spend a few days in the hospital under supervision. He said the attack on her was disturbing, and that he hoped the assailant was caught soon. Then he excused himself, and Var focused in on the only other person in the room.
The stranger.
He must have taken her to safety, sought out medical attention for her. But why would he do it? Why would he help a murderer, help a disgusting Sith? She stared down at her feet on the end of the bed and avoided eye contact, dumbly wondering what she could say.
Only one thing came to mind.
"I am so sorry..."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 17:30:47 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 5, 2012 17:30:47 GMT -5
Horst sat forward in his chair and considered that this was the second time in a month or so that he'd had to carry some poor woman to a hospital. He must have been a regular Romeo...
Riiiiiiiiiight... A regular Romeo... Horst rubbed his eyes, wishing someone would kill him instead.
After she'd fainted, Horst had set the pale Twi'lek down before dragging the charred remains into a dumpster. It was, by far, an imperfect hiding spot, but hopefully he and this girl would be gone from Ahto City by the time the Selkath stumbled upon it.
After the body was hidden, Horst had stared down at the unconscious mass of pale woman he had set on the ground, wondering one last time if he wanted to leave her there and simply run. For a moment, he had seriously considered the idea...
... then he had remembered who he was, picked her up in his arms, and brought her to the ER. The Selkath had of course asked where she'd sustained her injury, and so Horst had blended the truth with a few lies, saying that she'd been attacked by a marauding piece of living trash and that he'd arrived in time to beat the guy off, but not before she had attained the large gash on her head. The Selkath had bought it, and whisked her away for treatment, having to put her out with sedation once when she bolted up.
Now, here he sat in a chair beside her bed, wondering if he was doomed to be the galaxy's resident female medical transportation. He grinned stupidly at the thought, but then returned his face to a neutral look, his hands cupped over his mouth in serious thought and worry.
Why did I save her? She was a Sith, that much Horst knew. She'd killed people like that Trandoshan and otherwise numerous times, he was betting. She was the same type of person that had made that day happen, all those years ago. So why then didn't he just let her rot in the streets like she deserved?
No one deserves that. Horst cursed himself for his stupid conscious again. He didn't regret his choice though; Sith or not, this poor, pale Twi'lek girl, this Varulla'aba, as her medical chart named her, was just that:
A poor, broken, hurt little girl who had snapped. And Horst just couldn't have lived with himself leaving someone like that bleeding, unconscious, and potentially wanted in an alley with nowhere to go.
A Selkath nurse came in, bucket in tow, and checked Var, who was still unconscious. After a few minutes, however, Var stirred, and proceeded to vomit rather violently into the brought-bucket. The nurse then explained that she'd had head-trauma and needed to stay bed-ridden for a few days for supervision.
And then he left, leaving only Horst and Var sitting there uncomfortably.
Horst tried to think of something to say, but Var beat him to it, claiming that she was sorry.
"Don't be," Horst responded. In truth, she'd put him through quite a bit in the span of a few minutes, but nevertheless, he felt that she had incurred no debts. He would never have left her there, and didn't consider what he had done as any sort of favor.
He'd just tried to be decent. For a moment, he was quiet.
"You have a pretty name, by the way. Varulla'aba." Horst tried to do his best Twi'leki accent, failing miserably. He got the pronunciation, at least, and smiled a small smile, trying to come across as a bit less fore-bearing than he'd been prior.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
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Oct 5, 2012 19:00:39 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 5, 2012 19:00:39 GMT -5
Var's eyes widened when the human man called her by name. How did he know that? How did he know her real name?
She was worried now, and she felt a slight panic rising in her, her heartbeat a little too fast and a little too loud. If that's what she'd been entered into on the hospital... Then theoretically it could come back to the ears of the Sith or the Republic, who would both lobby for her extradition.
The fear was apparent on her face, but it faded into resignation quickly, as she realized the worst case was getting exactly what she deserved. The Twi'lek pulled her headtails over her shoulders from where they were pinned behind her back, and she ran her hands up and down them nervously.
She didn't even bother to ask how he knew her name, as it clicked. She'd carelessly brought her old ID in the purse she'd carried, alongside her false ID. It was a dumb mistake, but she was too tired to berate herself for it.
She gave a very weary look and tried to smile, half-succeeding.
"I owe you. I'll make it up to you, I swear."
Var wanted to protest, to swear that she was really a different person, but she wasn't sure anymore. It was all so muddled and confusing, like peering into murky water. She couldn't see into her own soul, not clearly. But she felt like she had to say something, to explain something.
"I'm trying to change, but it's so hard."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 22:32:53 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 5, 2012 22:32:53 GMT -5
Horst's smile dampened a bit as his mention of her name made Var clearly perturbed. He hoped he hadn't caused her any distress, but then figured out that he probably had; she was a Sith after all, and judging from what he'd seen, she wasn't trying to be. Maybe she already had a price on her head, or then again maybe she would if word got out her former relations.
She seemed to calm down, however, and insisted that she owed him something. He frowned at that, hoping that he'd made his point clear; she didn't owe him anything, and he would take nothing from her on those grounds. She'd fainted. He'd helped her because she was a basic sentient person below whatever... "issues" she might have had on the exterior.
Before he could correct her, however, she finished with a frank statement; she was trying, but it was hard.
Horst blinked at that one. He was quiet.
"You don't owe me a damn thing," he replied flatly, closing his eyes and exhaling. He sighed deeply; she said she needed to change, and to be fair, maybe she did.
But the very fact that he'd taken her to this hospital was proof that she was progressing.
"I know you are... and I think you're doin' a good job." He sighed once more, leaning back and twiddling his thumbs. "I've seen... 'those' people. They don't cry ta' the point of fainting after zappin' some rapist punk to death."
His face became stone-like and serious. "They laugh. You don't." He was quiet after that, not sure of what else to say.
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last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
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Oct 5, 2012 22:50:21 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Oct 5, 2012 22:50:21 GMT -5
"A good job?" Var laughed bitterly. "Did you even see what I did?"
She stared up at the ceiling, her arms thrown out to her sides. How could he even think she was doing a good job? She'd just proven she was a murderer. Again. She'd proven she was still prone to hate, prone to lashing out. She wasn't the person she should have been.
Var winced as his comment about laughing kicked in. It brought back memories. While she'd never taken joy in her killing, she'd smiled as she inflicted pain. Humiliating others, hurting others...
She hadn't loathed it, she'd lived it. She was a living and breathing monster, and she'd thought that she'd changed. Now she was looking in the mirror and not seeing the new woman she wanted to be, but rather seeing her dark soul.
"I could have," Var said. "If I could focus on two things at once I probably would have. I- I could feel his pain, and I enjoyed it..."
Var buried her face in her hands and rubbed her aching head.
"I thought I was fixed, I thought I was better. Now I see I'm not."
The slender woman pulled her hands away from her face and looked at the human mournfully.
"You should have left me to die. It's what I deserved."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
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Oct 6, 2012 22:27:10 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Oct 6, 2012 22:27:10 GMT -5
"Never." Horst became deadly adamant in his tone, almost sounding a little forceful. His look intensified, and he eyed Var from a distance, making it clear by his appearance that he said what he meant, and meant what he said.
"Var, I won't pretend ta' know you, but you ain't one of 'those'." He stood up and walked up beside her bed. He squatted there, lowering his eye-level below hers. His breathing was slightly quicker, and his eyes were sharper.
She's not one of them. Horst repeated the thought in his mind. Maybe he was just a damn-foolish optimist who put too much faith in people. Maybe he could read individuals better than he thought he could. But he spoke with certainty, like it was a solid fact he'd read in a text book a million times. Var wasn't anything like that murderous psychopath (at least, not where it counted). She'd cried, damnit, and that meant something.
Besides, he wasn't leaving any room for argument.
"Bad people don't cry when they kill." And he was quiet again, half at a loss of anything else to say, and half waiting to see if she'd be just another indignant person and shrug him off.
Then again, maybe they do. Horst dismissed the idea. Even if he was wrong, he'd rather die than admit it in this case.
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