A Constant Reminder [Diana]

[Hazel Scheler]

Don't let me darken your door
That's not what I came here for
No it's not what I came here for

And I won't hear you cry when I'm gone
I won't know if I'm doing you wrong
I never know if I'm doing you wrong


Some days it came down harder than others. Some days it was all she could do to get up. Stashed away in her ship somewhere in the Fondor shipyards, long enough after the Atrisian invasion to be quieted, but not so long that people were no longer tense, Ivy hadn't been able to get up.

It wasn't the war. It wasn't the death or the ominous darkness that hung like clouds over the heads of the Protectorate. It wasn't the name of the group she now worked for. It wasn't even the looming of war on the horizon. It was the looks on their faces - tight, pallid, worried. Say what you will about these warriors, but the majority of this lot was here for the good life because that was what the Protectorate offered, that was what it promised. The real warriors that had no fear were just kidding themselves. A good person didn't look forward to war. A good person grew weary of death. These were good people.


A constant reminder of where I can find her
A light that might give up the way
Is all that I'm asking for
without her I'm lost
But my love, don't fade away

So I watched the world tear us apart
A stoic mind and a bleeding heart
You never see my bleeding heart


It was that expression of suppressed fear that had gotten to her finally. After walking the crowds long enough, she'd begun to see not the faces of strangers, but the faces of friends fallen centuries ago. Strong people, good people drawn thin by the Gulag Virus and the terror it wrought throughout the galaxy. They came around like ghosts, slipping past her in the crowds, staring through her soul, a constant reminder of all the things lost. All the things at the edge of her memories but just out of grasp. There were very few things she could hold onto anymore, and those few things that remained she held onto tightly.

The first was a journal of a man named Samson Lasranae, written in a language few could understand. She couldn't speak the language anymore, but she'd memorized those pages during the nights between the fog. His words came to her as easily now as if he spoke them aloud.

The second was a bottle of whiskey. So was the third, sometimes the fourth.


And your light's always shining on
And I've been traveling oh so long
I've been traveling oh so long


Ivy didn't sleep much anymore so much as shut down. The bed in her ship? She'd let the hound take it over, she'd never used it anyways. The woman made her bed in the corner of that same room, shoulders hugged by a wall on either side, armor on, Vor'cha Stun Stick to her right, blaster to her left, propped and ready to grab at a moment's notice.

Old habits died hard.

Not quite as hard as old memories.


A constant reminder of where I can find her
Light that might give up the way
Is all that I'm asking for without her I'm lost
Oh my love don't fade away


Sometimes, while drifting off, she could hear his voice speaking to her. Saying those words that he'd written for her for the long journeys apart.


Oh my love don't fade away.



The Egris sat dormant in the docking station, engines cold. It hadn't moved for a few days, and neither had Ivy. Somewhere from the side panel the tuk'ata hound emerged, scaling the side of the freighter to find a sunning spot on the top, panting in the light of the Fondorian sun. Nothing compared to Korriban, it's tail tapped a deft staccato in the lull of the surrounding port noise.


@[member="Diana Moridena"]

 

[Cedric Dorn]

Diana walked into the docking station containing the Egris, somehow she had obtained information that her friend Ivy was here. From where it was difficult to tell, though the Jedi Master had her means. Slowly she stepped into the docking bay her eyes almost weary. She sensed something from within, something that prickled the outside of her void of force senses. A sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not quite shake.

The Jedi Master was by no means a master of force detection, it was perhaps her most lacking skill. Because of this she could hardly sense the dark presence within the Tuk'ata, just see the beast for the ugly scaley hound that it was.

Diana spotted the creature, but said nothing about it. Instead she greeted her friend with a warm smile and a placid face. “Ivy!”

She called out to the woman, her steps quickening slightly in expectations of another hug.
@[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

 

[Hazel Scheler]

She'd managed to move, but not very far. Ivy sat in the opening of the cargo bay, leaned against the frame of the ramp doorway, half drained bottle of whiskey in accompaniment.

A brow rose at the sound of the name followed by a glance darkened by something that looked like pain, perhaps a bit of anger, but mostly the fog of the drink. The smell of the previous three bottles would be quite hard to miss.

"I asked you not to call me that," Ivy grumbled.


Lye, still lounging on the top of the freighter, lifted his head and followed the Jedi's approach, black eye panning after her figure, tail thumping against the durasteel plating beneath it.

@[member="Diana Moridena"]

 

[Cedric Dorn]

A look of pure shock and embarrassment crossed Diana's face as she realized what she had said. Almost out of sheer panic Diana slapped a hand across her mouth, her eyes opening wide and a panic setting over her. Sometimes the Jedi master had a habit of forgetting important things, this it seemed was one of those times.

“Sorry!” She managed to squeak out past her hand as she approached Ivy, her eyes focused on the woman instead of the strange Sith Dog.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Ivy eyed the woman, which was to say that she did so with a gaze bleary with inebriation.

"S'ok, doll," she said, patting at the open space of floor next to her, "jes' don' do it again."

@[member="Diana Moridena"]

 

[Cedric Dorn]

“No promises.” Diana mused to herself as she wandered over to Ivy and plopped herself down on the ground. The woman stunk of booze and alcohol and the woman gave a frown. Ivy had been drinking again. Truthfully that was normal for her, but Diana did not like it, not one bit.

She thought for a second, not speaking. “What have you been up to?”

She fumbled, unsure of how to continue speaking to the drunk woman.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"Slipping through my memories," Ivy replied, hazy gaze seeming to take on a distant appearance. She looked to the skies with all the starships traipsing through the spacelanes. It reminded her of home and of many other places. A deep frown tugged at her face, her stomach churned, her heart ached.

A sickly, dull ache that squeezed sadness into her eyes, "How often do you visit your home, Diana?" Ivy asked over a voice strained by the willfullness to hold it all in.

[member="Diana Moridena"]