Private Answers

[Arris Windrun]

NAR SHADDAA
Tag: Allyson Locke
Wearing: Allyson Locke's Infamous Leather Jacket with all new patches, cuts, holes, and frayed fibers! Oh, and some slacks.

Arris threw her guts out onto the cantina floor. Been a while - since before the Kaggath, in fact.

She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her jacket, drew a marcan roll and lit it, something to calm the nerves before she stepped outside and finished her smoke on the balcony. It was cold that night. Some malfunction with the weather generator in her district, apparently. Skies above blew a cold, polluted wind down.

A few days ago, the cyborg finally managed to hunt down what she believed was a means of reaching Allyson Locke and sent a message with a time and place. Yeah, that Locke, the one know nearly killed... no, did kill Arris that day on Ruusan. She knew the truth in her gut, even if the answers eluded her, that she died in that fight. Her body lived. Her memories, her thoughts, every other facet of her identity remained. By all logic, she couldn't be dead...

So why was it that anytime she felt the Force or experienced the world, it was more like looking through a pair of binoculars? Why did she just know?

The cyborg crushed the joint between her fingers and let the pieces blow away. Only ash stains remained on her fingertips, barely visible against the black of her metal.

She hoped the Shadow would show herself, because she needed answers.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Arris Windrun //:
//: Attire //:

Allyson Locke wasn't an easy woman to find. It was part of the story, the mystery that surrounded the former Hand of the Emperor. Nowadays, she was more of a bounty hunter, a gun-for-hire, while also continuing her Master's work. His hand on her leash was loose, but he had given her something that no one else had even tried to provide.

Freedom.

The dog, without a collar or leash, often wandered, lost. Allyson did so, but with the safety that she'd always find a place to land. Still, the woman kept her distance from the galaxy; she was happy?

From the shadows she watched, hidden by and in the Force from the woman who had summoned her. Allyson could feel it, more so with Arris — the woman felt more machine than flesh. But every tick and every tock of the woman's cybernetics hummed through the Force, almost calling the Technomancer.

She didn't let her wait too long and stepped forward. The force cloak faded, and the woman flickered into sight.

"You are persistent," Allyson commented, her tone lacking the annoyance that one might have assumed she'd have. Hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, she tilted her head, seeing the changes to the one Arris wore.

"Looks good," another short comment as she stepped closer.

"So, why did you call me? Most people only like meeting me once." The Corellian grinned as she sighed in a way that was almost a laugh.

"Though most of the time its not by choice..."

 

[Arris Windrun]

Allyson Locke

Arris thought she should have felt it in the Force when Allyson stepped out into the light. She couldn't feel her back then either, which she might've chalked up to being an untrained Force novice, but now? She wasn't so sure.

The cyborg squinted - not at the woman's sight, but at the constant droning she felt in her head lately.

She turned around and leaned back against the railing.

"You are persistent," Allyson commented, her tone lacking the annoyance that one might have assumed she'd have.

"Does that surprise you?" Her own tone lacked that signature insecure joy she wore throughout the tournament.

Arris looked down at her jacket at the Shadow's next remark. "One of the more interesting ways I've ended up in someone's jacket." There should've been a smirk to follow, but she couldn't muster it.

Of course, neither of them was here for small talk, and Locke asked her to get to the point. The Talusian stretched her back out against the metal bars between her and a several-thousand-meter fall, looking up at the guts of an entire city above them, before her eyes finally settled back down on Allyson's.

"Shit all's been okay since the Kaggath, and I need to know what you did to me."

Her expression was dead serious, but underneath the tough girl facade was a plea. Whatever had happened - what Arris believed she was going through - it ate her up inside like a slow-burning disease.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Arris Windrun //:
//: Attire //:

Allyson quirked a brow as Arris asked the burning question. She wondered how long she had been holding on to it. From what the Corellian could tell, it had been a bit — funny she let it fester for so long. Allyson could appreciate the forwardness; it meant she didn't have to be out here in the open much longer.

This was going to end with Arris feeling the wind beneath her wings or Allyson walking away. She hated confrontation as much as the next spy. Still, obviously, this was something the cyborg needed.

"Annoying," Allyson remarked under her breath. She had hoped Arris would have figured it out by now. Was this how it felt when you gave a kid up for adoption, and they came looking for you? A hand scratched against her temple as she tried to figure out how to put things into words. There was really nothing comforting about 'Hi, I killed you, and you were basically reborn as a technobeast.'

Allyson stared at the woman for a moment, feeling the shift with the ebb and flow of her cybernetics. She was different; they breathed instead of just functioning. The only other time Allyson ever felt this in the Force was in the presence of other technobeasts. Maybe she should have put Arris down? Though the woman hadn't become too much of a menace to come across the assassin's desk.

Though she did wonder, if she had all her tools… all her gimmicks and the order to kill, if things would have ended differently in the kaggath.
Only the Force knew… again, how annoying…

"I killed you," Allyson said bluntly. There was no good way to say it, a conclusion she had mulled over more than she would ever admit.

"I overloaded your entire system, till you couldn't do anything. Fried every little bit of cheap circuitry you had moving through ya." She shrugged, but behind the bluntness, a little grin pulled at her lips.

"But like I said, you're persistent — you decided you didn't want to die, so your own will decided to override mine, and you mustered yourself into a technobeast." Allyson nodded and took a step back, almost preparing for Arris to fly off the handle at the news.

"A beautiful marriage of flesh and technology, congratulations." Sarcasm, with a bit of pride blended together in a very smug Corellian accent.

"I'm assuming that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth. Trust me, it wasn't my plan."

 

[Arris Windrun]

"I killed you," Allyson said bluntly.

Why was it like feedback on a pair of faulty speakers?

An echo of something she's already heard.

"Annoying." The earlier remark hitched upon her thoughts. Yeah - it was annoying.

Arris slid with her back against the railing, using weight and friction to slow her fall long enough that she could've stopped it if she wanted to. Hell, she was a cyborg; she didn't need her knees to bend at all. They could hold up all her weight on those joints alone. When her ass finally hit the ground, she brought hands up to her cheeks like someone truly bummed. All the while, Allyson explained the rest.

A story played out in her head, following every word like stage directions.

She only looked up when Allyson called her persistent. "I decided I didn't want to die? I decided?" It didn't feel like a decision. Didn't everyone scream and beg and refuse when they found themselves at the end?

The street rat's been there before, plenty of times. More than once, twice, somewhere between seven and thrice. Everything scrambled. Every thought backwards. Nothing made any damn sense to her... maybe it was that thing in her skull. The implant-turned-parasite lodged in her skull. It gave her power; it brought her misery.

Allyson's sarcasm didn't escape her notice, even in that state, though credit might've belonged to her thick delivery. She recognized in it something else, too, a Corellian Accent.

"Shit - we're even from the same system?" Figures.

Small talk was an escape, but Allyson gave her no time to settle into that rhythm.

"I'm assuming that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth. Trust me, it wasn't my plan."

Her brow furrowed, not in anger or frustration, just... intensity. "I don't know if what 'I wanted' matters," she chuckled insincerely.

The cyborg's metal arms fell across her samelike knees, hands drooping.

She forced a smile and looked down at her own feet. The thing with Arris Windrun is that her feelings weren't entirely impulse-controlled. Every hormone, every chemical, every synthmuscular twitch was governed - if she wanted. In fact, she had specifically tweaked everything to keep her on edge. It was good for fighting. It was good for escape.

This was a vulnerable moment, and it was probably fucking stupid to do it then and there, but she let go of all that control. With a thought, with some will, she brought it back to factory conditions. Designed to stimulate a natural human system and let loose a flood of emotion. But only she didn't actually know how to react; it had been so long since she felt like a person, all she could hope for was the nostalgia of a younger woman's angst.

Arris twitched where she sat.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Arris Windrun //:
//: Attire //:

There was a time, Allyson's heart bled. It would bleed for her companions, her lovers, and anyone that she felt deserved a chance. Time, though, had hardened that bleeding heart. While she wept and sacrificed, no one else ever bothered to do the same for her. The galaxy was a cruel mistress, one that chewed you up and spat you out… expecting you to ask for another go.

Seeing the look on Arris' face reminded Allyson that the woman before her was young. To know that if things had gone another way, the experiences she had would have never happened. Was Arris realizing her mortality, or was her ego just deflating? Allyson would never really know, nor would she bother to inquire too deeply.

"Did you expect something different?" The Corellian asked.

She wondered if Arris had hoped there was something magical about what happened between them. It was some thread that connected them more deeply, fate or destiny of a sort. Even if it was or even if it had been intended, Allyson had severed that part of herself from the ebb and flow of the Force. No longer could anyone peer in or change how her life would go without her choice.

Thinking about it, Allyson wondered if Arris would even be interested in something like that. She wouldn't mention it, but took a step closer.

"Either you or something subconscious decided it." She shrugged, her shadow now looming over the slumped girl.

"I wouldn't think too hard about it, uh, what would a Jedi say at this time?" The Corellian chuckled at the irony of her looking back on her time as a Jedi.

"Force works in mysterious ways… or something like that." Another laugh as she finally sighed. She listened, letting Arris have her moment. Allyson recognized it. Though it was a weird place, you either felt disappointed or felt good about your own will to keep going.

Sometimes life was just too much, and dying just sounded too good.

"I don't know if what 'I wanted' matters,"

"It does." Allyson finally said, "What you want matters the most to you. You just have to go out and do it. I don't have the answers on how to do it — Force knows I've fucked my life in more ways than one, but I did it because I wanted to."

Pausing, Allyson cleared her throat.

"I didn't fuck my life because I wanted to, I just did what I wanted…" She wondered if she needed to clarify, but she did anyway. Seeing the angst, Allyson sighed softly. Her hand extended, resting gently on Arris's head.

There was a connection, as much as Allyson didn't want it, Arris was still deep down her responsibility. Her touch was gentle, an attempt to be comforting in this moment.

"It's…" Allyson sighed, "It's going to be alright…"

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Did you expect something different?" The Corellian asked.

"I expected to win it all," She wanted to say, but as soon as she thought it, that pride and desire turned to ash.

How long had she been holding onto that? Well, since the Kaggath of course, but it wasn't until this moment that Arris realized something: she had no aspirations. The girl who wanted to be the circuit shockboxing champ, the girl who wanted to win the Kaggath, the girl who wanted to be the Black Sun's best. She ran away, lost, and crumbled - a triple stroke of failure.

When Allyson mentioned the Jedi, Arris recalled Tilon. Funny... had she not run with Mercy, she might've been on Kattada studying the Force with him instead.

But whatever faux Jedi advice the shadow tried to give arrived at utter nonsense to the cyborg's ear.

She perked up.

"Wait!"

Allyson began to console her. "Don't!" Every instinct said not to take it. That it made her too vulnerable. It was a trick. A Trap. A knife waiting in one hand. She looked at Ally's hands.

One wasn't where it was. Where did it --

Her hand extended, resting gently on Arris's head.

Her hand settled on Arris' head when she sat down.

She froze in place like someone who feared being scolded for the trouble they were in.

"I need to control myself."

The words escaped her like a confession.

"I want to be good at what I do - but I want to be in control."

And what did she want to be good at? Killing? It wasn't just easier to be a gun. It made her feel good, in some twisted way. An instrument of violence. She could hone it without having to decide who she killed or why. Just that she was good at it. Just that she had the power to win. Just that people feared her. Just that she felt good. Just that. Just. Just. Just.

She tilted her head up under the Corellian's hand. She couldn't see much of the woman's face with her arm in the way, but she was looking up all the same.