Private A Soft Answer Turns Away Wrath...

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Áine

It had been a cold winter even for Yavin VIII. Kerstan had spent most if it hidden away inside his laboratory pushing himself to find some kind of breakthrough on his work toward perfecting the perfect soldier. He needed the resources Kamino could offer, but cloning was not something he was interested in. Creating the best solider was his only goal. Yes, the project would morph, and it would likely change. There would always be another goal, something else to create once this project was over. Yet, Kerstan could not seem to best his one true success. In half a millennia Kerstan had yet to achieve anything greater than the assassin which he had pieced together.​

​

She was perfection. How could he do any better than her?​

​

A loud crash would be heard from his lab followed by his shouted curses. Glass beakers shattered over the floor as Kerstan threw the datapad in his hands at the formula he had been working on. Another attempt, another failure. The body which sat lifeless in a tube, a things which looked as though it was the perfect physical specimen still refused to draw breath. Something was wrong. The compound did not work, and he did not know why. The puzzle before him seemed unsolvable, and the more he tried the more he questioned his ability.​

​

Had Aine been a fluke? Had she been a matter of simple luck and nothing more?​

​

Kerstan sighed as he sat in his chair. His head rest in his hand as the elbow rest on the crimson, velvet fabric of the chair's arm. His breathing was almost labored as he recited the components and measurements he had attempted in that iteration of the formula. A soft mumbled would be heard as Kerstan slowly recalled every detail thinking, hoping, that he could find the variable which had been off.​

​

Eyes shifted to a plate of food which had remained on his desk, untouched for the day. His guest had been kind enough to prepare something for him, though Kerstan had refused to eat most days as he claimed to not have the time for it. The work was too critical to take any time for things such as food or sleep.​

​

The bags underneath Kerstan's eyes said otherwise. He needed rest, and he needed to eat. The Alchemist was losing his strength and his focus, but he was too stubborn to admit it.​

​

His thoughts shifted as he tried coming up with an excuse. He knew the crash would attract the attention of guest if she had not been asleep, and even then the noise would have been enough to wake her. Kerstan sighed again as he knew the truth. He needed a break from his work. The Sith simply did not wish to take it.​

​

"I failed again," he said the moment she walked in. "I don't know what I am missing."​

 

[Áine]

Tag: Kerstan Blackmoore
Wearing: [X]

Áine stirred in her deep, restful sleep. This moon and its icy landscape were more than home to her, and it held far more than precious memories. It was where she felt safest, the most protected, shielded from the varied dangers of the galaxy. Peace was found here, and with peace came a rare chance for true relaxation. When she fell back exhausted onto these pillows, on this bed, in these caves, Áine was happy.

A sharp, sudden sound shocked the experiment from her sleep. With eyes slightly blurred she scanned the room as quickly as she could, looking for the source of the noise. Whatever it was had not come from the bedroom itself, so that left only one other option…

There was silk robe hanging from the back of a chair an arm’s length away from the bed. Áine reached for it and slipped it on under the safety of the sheets where the cold was kept at bay. Even under an insurmountable weight of rock the harsh breeze that licked across the landscape still managed to seep into the gaps in the stone. With the sound of shattered glass still ringing in her ears, Áine slipped out from under the bedsheets and padded her way quietly across the bedroom.

It was even colder in the corridors, but it was only a short journey from here to the laboratory, where she was certain the noise had come from.

Lit by the harsh bright white of manmade light, her emerald eyes could pick out Kerstan’s outline easily amongst the strange and varied shadows in the lab. Stopping just short of the entrance Áine lent against the doorframe, the scarlet silk of her gown melting into her curves.

She did not need to ask to know how he was feeling. Nor did she need to see his face. The words he had spoken plainly still echoed in her ears.

“That does not sound like the Kerstan I know.” As she crossed the lab her soothing tone filled the room quickly, like heat from a roaring flame. The magic behind it would not work on the man hunched over in his chair, but Áine was made that way. It was as natural to her as breathing. Her lithe frame slipped easily into his lap, and her arms draped lightly around his neck. “Every failure is another stone on the path to success.” She did a rather poor job of mimicking the stern voice he had used on her in her youth, but he would recognise the words at least.

He had repeated them to her loudly and often during her training. Back then she had despised everything about them. Their meaning, the way the sounded, how his lips moved when he spoke them, but now? She was old enough to truly grasp their relevance. It had taken her five hundred years and thrice as many failures to be where she was today. It had taken Kerstan longer to create her.

Tilting her head just a little to catch his gaze, her slender fingers stroked gently through his beard. “What you are missing is time and space.” She spoke softly, peppering his lips with small kisses. “You need a break.”

 

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Áine

His eyes looked past the red haired assassin for a time. They were fixed on his mistake. It was not until her hand guided his eyes to hers that the Sith regarded the woman. Even that was not normal. It was not usual that something could capture his attention when she was in the room. Even the robe she wore should have had his heart racing, but as dog with a bone, Kerstan was fixated on getting the formula correct. He wanted to see the soldier live. Aine had not just been there for a diversionary trip, no, Kerstan wanted her to test out his new creation. It was supposed to have been living by now.​

​

A small smirk tugged at his lips when his own words were repeated back to him. He allowed the woman to kiss him, though there was little say he had in the matter. She was her own person, independent of him. Kerstan had never imagined how human she would truly be when he fashioned her at first, and was grateful that in the end, she chose him. Nothing of their relationship was forced, and considering how he had treated her, abandoned her, it was a miracle she could stand the sight of him.​

​

"I cannot afford a break," he argued in return.​

​

His hands wrapped around the lithe waist of the woman as he returned her kiss.​

​

"Something is wrong... it's off and I cannot figure it out. I have run the formula through countless times, changed several combinations of variables, and yet I cannot seem to make this thing live."​

​

He sighed. This was something he had dedicated his life to, creating life, making things of war and death. The lines of age on his face shown through his tanned and weary skin. Kerstan had sacrificed many things to get as far as he had on the project, and only to fail this close to the finish. It was frustrating. She knew it too. His eyes settled on hers once more, before falling to her lips.​

​

"I did not mean to wake you. Though I never intended to make you remain alone in that bed either."​

​

Kerstan was neglecting his guest, her needs. It was another failure, and yet very much like him to be consumed by his work.​

​

"Perhaps you are correct, and I should walk away from this for the night. Force look at the mess I made."​

 

[Áine]

Tag: Kerstan Blackmoore
Wearing: [X]

Áine allowed a tinkling giggle to possess her lips for a moment when Kerstan began to argue. She followed it up with a soft tut. “My love, we live for hundreds and hundreds of years. We can afford a break.”

The smile the giggle had caused remained on her lips as he returned her affections. This was not the first time Kerstan had been dismayed by the results of his experiments. By all accounts, Áine had taken him far longer than any of his previous experiments, and he had failed countless times before creating her. She passively wondered how many test tubes and machines had been broken in those years of Kerstan’s life. It did pain her somewhat to see him in such distress. It was not often that Kerstan admitted he did not know the answer, so the rare times he did were often a shock to Áine.

Still, she did not let her surprise prevent her from attempting to cheer him up.

When he sighed, it shattered her. So much so that her bottom lip fell into a soft pout and she drew herself into him as close as their bodies would allow. It was not so long ago that Áine would have recoiled at the mere thought of being this close to him, but time healed a great many things. Now she could hardly imagine her life without him. Though they were independent in their own right, they were never very far from each other. What he felt, she felt, and she felt his pain now.

She hushed him gently when he began to apologise for the noise, brushing it off by offering him a tender smile. “It's fine.” Though she did nod in response to his second comment and slipped herself off his lap. Tangling her hand in his, she gave it a gentle tug.

“I’m always correct.” She flashed him a teasing grin. “I can't even begin to feign knowledge in this particular subject, but I am extremely knowledgable on you, Kerstan. Leave work for tonight. Come back to bed. I promise you, things will look different in the morning.”​

 

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Áine

Now she was scolding him. Could he afford a break, yes, did he feel as though he needed one, no. Perhpas it was because he knew how close he was to solving the matter. Like his father, Xander, Kerstan lived off of his obsessions. Right now the experiment that he wished to complete was what drove him. Yet, Aine always knew how to pull him away. She never commanded him, both of them knew how well that would work, and yet in her own way she did. His eyes regarded the lifeless form once more before finally giving in to the woman as she attempted to pull from his seat on the chair.​

​

Standing, the larger man scooped the woman off of her feet.​

​

"Your body is without blemish, I will not risk you cutting a foot on loose glass now and ruining that trait."​

​

She had been made to be perfection. Kerstan had never meant to fall for her either. A weapon was an object to be wielded, and yet as so often happened, the creator had fallen in love with his creation. Perhaps the word was one Kerstan did not know the meaning of. Like other things she was his obsession. He smirked when she made the comment she was always correct. Naturally that would be the one thing she would focus on. With a chuckle he walked away from the mess, his assassin still in his arms.​

​

"I should at least clean up this mess, though even that could wait until morning."​

​

This was not the first time he would walk away from such a mess. Many times he had broken beakers trying get Aine to live. There had been other forms, other bodies which never had taken life. Kerstan did not often talk about the numerous failures which had led to her creation. Each attempt only fueled him to pursue success even more.​

​

And he did succeed. The proof of it was now being laid back onto the bed they were meant to share.​

​

Kerstan moved to the door and closed it after laying her down, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he walked toward the fireplace. It had gone out while the woman had been asleep. A few dry logs floated and settled in the ash with a movement of his hand, and with a flick of his wrist they found themselves on fire. There was a glass on the mantle, and decanter of bourbon next to it. A small amount of liquid was poured into it, and for a moment Kerstan stared at the flames as he sipped the drink.​

​

"One hundred and forty-three. That was how many times I watched growing cells disintegrate before the form you have now even held. Five years from that before you took your first breath. All because I wanted someone to die. And yet when you killed him... I was devastated."​

​

His eyes did not move from the fire.​