Private Blood, Sweat 'n Tears

[Kyra Perl]

An attempt on the Royal Family's lives. They were lucky she was there. Mistress Jade, however...
"How long has she been like this?"
...Two months.
"And she..."
Grows weaker, yes. I'm so sorry...

“I am awake for the first time in a long time. I am not a Jedi, Kyra, that path was never meant for me. I am a Child of Dark Lord.”

"I'm going after her... -That arm of yours is only going to slow both of us down."

“...I’m leaving, Kyra.”

Alone.

They had all left her. From one thing or another, the pillars in her life had crumbled out from under her. Nida Heavenshield Romi Jade Thirdas Heavenshield Amani Serys Phalsi Drynchen Caden Evesa ... Acaadi These were the names of the people who had once been constants around her. And where were they now? She hadn't been able to keep up. She hadn't been enough. Her circle had dispersed like sand through her hands, and even when she tried to pull them back...

She was rebuffed.

What a chit jedi she made. What a sorry excuse for a friend... a sister. Her tears overflowed, the alcohol in her system amplifying her pain.

Her room was dark. Clothing and trash cluttered the space, creating a specific odor of neglect. Folding pants with one hand had felt impossible, never mind saving a sister. The grief of Nida's fate rocked her, her shattered arm limp on her thighs as she sat kneeled on the floor. Trash cut sharply into her calf, but she ignored it. The pain was nothing compared to the constant ache of the dying limb. Her family was scattered.

And she with that bummed arm, was a victim to it all.

No more.

Acaadi 's second saber, stolen from him just that morning as he departed for another one of those missions she wasn't good enough to attend, was warm in her left hand. She no longer had her own saber. She had lost that too. Snot slid down her face at the pain of the reminder, hatred for what she was burning through her.

No more of this.

The saber sparked to life, the green glow encapsulating her room as she held it before herself. Her gut trembled in a burst of fear, a sob catching in her before she snuffed it out. Strength was a choice, she coaxed, Romi's face flooding her mind. Her hand shock, the light ricocheting around the messy space.

She would be strong. Acaadi face reached her then, flickering by like a movie reel. The light steadied.

She would save her family.

Her muscles jerked, her eyes squeezing shut and tilting away as she brought the burning heat of the saber down on her shattered arm. The weapon and limb clattering to the ground in muted thumps. The reality of what she had done felt distant, her whole body seizing up against the scream of her nerve endings. And then it all came exploding back, air sucking into her lungs like an airlock door opening to space.

She fell over, a strangled scream seeping from her throat. It was almost surreal, she noted, feeling her face hit the cool ground. Her mind felt above it all. Floating. There was no fear, only the realization that she didn't think this through and for some reason she didn't care.

Tiredness crawled over her, the ice-cold kiss of shock encasing her mind. She had cut off her arm. A crazed laugh fell from her lips, dying out as quickly as came. Thirdas thought she was weak-- just wait till he saw-- Her breath condensated on her nose, a wave of nausea hitting her stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to reach out and meditate it all away. The pain was like nothing compared to being crushed by the ship at Yurb. Almost done, she coaxed, her breath coming slower as she let the agony wash over her.

Surely... the next time she opened her eyes... all would be right again. Her thoughts slipped from her, erratic as unconsciousness reached for her.

She should have told someone she was here.

 

[Yula Perl]

Of all the Perl siblings, no one had chomped at the bit more than Yula.

Constantly sneaking away, hitching rides off-world, Yula had continuously been the most profound headache for their mother. While Kyra was just as energetic and combative, her baby sister tended to gravitate back towards Zeltros, back to their mother for comfort. But not Yula—her heart had always belonged to the great sea of stars known as the galaxy.

Things were different now, with Nida’s shocking betrayal and subsequent elopement with the Sith. Yula had been playing spacer for too long, and for that, she felt guilty. Her family was fractured and hurting. Upon her return to Zeltros, she wasn’t surprised to find her mother working tirelessly to pull every string, call in every favor she had in order to locate Nida.

Kyra had worried her the most. Her baby sister was emotionally erratic, loved deeply and attached at the hip to Nida. Yula knew that she couldn’t make things right on her own, but at least she could touch base with Kyra.

Something stopped her from knocking on Kyra’s door. Yula’s fist rested against the cool durasteel as her brow crinkled in concern. Her sister’s presence wafted to her from behind the door, but something was wrong. Something urgent.

“Kyra?” She knocked at the door, voice lifting with unease.

No answer.

“KYRA!” The worry reached a fever pitch as she felt vestiges of her sister’s pain. Gasping to herself, Yula looked around wildly before spying the biometric print scanner near the doorframe, one Kyra would use similarly to a key. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved a hydrospanner and frantically went to work.

---

Yula sat at Kyra’s bedside, elbows resting on her knees, chin settled atop her folded hands. She stared at her baby sister in that white bed, hooked up to a myriad of monitors and machines. One to measure her vitals, another to keep her hydrated. Another to pattern out her brain activity. The rest she couldn’t name.

After an initial scare, the doctors had assured her that she’d pull through physically. Sans one arm, of course. The wound had been cauterized immediately, so she hadn’t bled out, but they had her on an antibiotic drip just in case.

As Kyra stirred, Yula wouldn’t move. Instead, she fixed her darkened gaze squarely on that of her little sister’s.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

Kyra stirred, aware at once what had occurred. There was no confusion, or disorientation. She had been drunk, but she had been present. The alcohol had amplified an already made choice.

There was no regret.

"Yula," she breathed, her sister's presence the only thing to catch her off guard. Her body was a step behind of her already active mind, her eyes slower to lift than she'd like as she tried to glance down.

"Isitfixed," she slurred, looking towards the lost appendage. "Is it there, can I go?" There was no pain. For the first time in weeks, the crushed arm no longer throbbed at her side. But it was not replaced, a fact which didn't quite seem to reach her through the fog of the drugs. Her good hand reached over, tugging at IV's as she tried to sort out which of the three versions of herself was real and pat it down. She gave a hard blink, trying to urge her vision clear.

"Whereisit-- Am I a T-rex?"

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula sprung upwards at once, clamping down on her sister’s wrist as she tried to tug the IVs out of her hand. As per usual, Kyra babble was nigh indecipherable. It had been that way since they were kids.

“Are you—what?” Her brow furrowed and Yula shook her head slowly. Did Kyra even know what she’d done?

Her heart sank when she realized her sister had asked if her arm had been fixed. Yula’s hand curled around the IV tubes, keeping them firmly in place as she exhaled slowly. She was hovering over her sister, trying to find the right words to broach the situation.

This wasn’t her thing.

“No Kyra, it’s not fixed. Force, what the hell were you thinking? What am I supposed to tell mom?”

She glanced to the side, feeling somewhat guilty. Yula knew about Kyra’s ailment and had been wracking her brain over what to do. Swallowing thickly, she turned back to her baby sister. Damn, when did she start looking so much like mom?

“I found you passed out in your room.” And minus an arm. “What do you remember?”

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

A T-Rex. Yanno-- She made a 'raaaawring' motion, the explanation lost to her sister's fussing. What was she thinking? She opened her mouth to tell her, only to be interrupted by more. What was she suppose to tell mom?

Well actually--

What do you remember?

Kyra blinked owlishly up at Yula, waiting for the next question. After a long pause, Kyra realized it was not going to come. She perked dimly, melting into a tired heap back into the bedding.

"I remember Thirdas," she mumbled, her eyes slipping closed. "And Nida..." her expression contorted, holding back pain that didn't reach full fruition. "Andmyarm-- I can-- um. I can get get her now. Where's my shoes? Heh-....Where's my arm?" She dissolved into laughter over her joke, the drug-induced amusement fading off with a tired drawl.

A sense of seriousness reached her then, her eyes opening to urgently find her sister's. "I'm goin' to find Nida. Im gonna bring her back-- Where's Thirdas, you have to tell him-- have to tell him I'm not slow anymore. Did you have his number?"

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

On any normal day, Yula would have dismissed Kyra’s babble as simply that—babble. Force knows she’d heard enough of it growing up in the same house with her baby sister, who so often liked to toddle after her and prattle on about everything.

But today was not a normal day, which is why Yula was hanging on Kyra’s every word, every broken thought with unprecedented intensity. Yula knew that she was frazzled; the elder Zeltron was angry and scared. She wanted to berate Kyra as much as she wanted answers, and it took a conscious effort to steady herself.

At the first mention of their sister’s name, Yula squeezed Kyra’s remaining hand. The events of Yavin had been relayed to her, and she could only imagine what Kyra went through seeing their sister’s betrayal first hand. What Nida went through too. Force, what a mess.

“I'm goin' to find Nida. Im gonna bring her back—"

Yula’s eyes flashed. “No. Kyra, you’re not—”

She stopped herself with a start, her hand leaving Kyra’s to rub at her temple. Yula was used to doing whatever she wanted, despite the protests of those around her. The youngest of five, Kyra had always been treated as the baby—as incapable. Part of it was the childish attitude, and part of it was the label placed squarely on her shoulders by the virtue of being born last.

Collapsing unceremoniously back into the chair, Yula pressed the tips of her fingers and thumbs together and sighed in concession. “Yeah, I get it. I want her back too.” Kyra wasn't advocating for a trip to Hologram Fun World or insisting she could cook dinner on her own. Given the baby Perl’s skill in the kitchen, retrieving their sister all on her own seemed more feasible. “I don’t have Thirdas’ number.” She shook her head, then paused. ”That’s…the boyfriend, right?” Living so far away, she hadn’t been introduced yet.

Yula fell into a pensive silence, bright green eyes alive with thoughts unheard. She’d been in touch with mom about Kyra’s arm, and knew that something like this would be coming. Just not…in the way it had come. Accordingly, she’d been making her own preparations.

Finally, she spoke.

“So what's your plan, kid?”

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

“So what's your plan, kid?”

All of Kyra's struggles melted away, her crazed energy calming as... Yula took her seriously. And of course she did, what wasn't serious about what she said? Kyra melted back into the bed, a solemn drawl pulling over her expression. She looked tired in that moment. Aged. What was her plan?

Well she was knee deep in it.

...Arm deep?

"Ossusesesss- She's maybe.... Kadavo-- where Mom found her?" Kyra struggled to reach for the void at her side again, trying to confirm herself whether or not it had been replaced. "I need both-- I needed bot- " It wasn't there. Her expression caught, a spark of panic hitting her. "Where is it? Why haven't they done it?"

Her mind felt like it was floating over her, rational yet small as she watched herself grasp for the missing limb. This was not how she had expected to wake up. This was not she what had coaxed herself into.

Where was her strength? She was suppose to be fixed.

"Where's my arm?" The heat dissolved into simple panic, her motions erratic as she pulled back the bedding to reveal a stub below her shoulder-- pink and puckered, raw yet stitched and healing. The world walloped, darkness creeping at the end of her vision as she nearly fainted then and there.

It was monstrous.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

Patience was not a skill that came easily to either Zeltron, but Yula did her best to give Kyra’s slurred thoughts her ear without interjecting.

Ossus. Kadavo. Sith space.

She bristled at the thought, her big sister sensibilities urging her to interject. Before she could, Kyra changed the subject.

“Where’s my arm?” The fright in Kyra’ voice had Yula on her feet, hovering over her sister and grasping at her one remaining hand. Yula was not as tender as Joza or Nida, not as able to comfort the soul as they could. But that didn’t mean that Kyra’s panic had affected her any less.

“Kyra, Kyra—” Feeling a lump form in her throat, Yula swallowed and forced a soft tone into her words. “Listen to me, Kyra. I found you on the floor of your room, with your lightsaber and your…arm.” Recalling the sight of her baby sister unconscious over the rug in her dorm room, severed arm at her side was unpleasant, and Yula took a moment to steady herself.

Squeezing her hand harder, Yula focused on having her words penetrate through the haze of confusion, fear, and sedatives. “It’s going to be okay, Kyra. I promise you this—you’re going to get better. Even if I had to scrap a thousand hunks of metal, you will have two arms.” Shuddering, for the first time in a while Yula felt the urge to hold back tears.

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

Kyra squeezed hard on Yula's had, unaware of her grip and the way she used it to keep herself grounded. She felt herself float back down onto the bed, no longer hovering over her body as her toes tingled against the haze of drugs. Her sister's words reached her, the reassurances clicking into place one by one.

If Yula said it, it would surely happen.

Yula was capable of anything. Did you see the stuff she built? She could surely build Kyra an arm. Several, in fact. Hundreds. Thousands. Just like Emily.

Her calmed expression abruptly caught, a look of horror crossing over her for one tense moment. It exploded into a wave of sudden tears, her grip on her sister's hand not loosing as Kyra swung from one extreme to a next.

"I dun wanna spider arm!" She balled. "You can't turn me into a space ship-- I''m telling mom!"

Yula brought this on herself.

 

[Yula Perl]

Predictable, Kyra was not.

Yula felt the tension start to ease when Kyra calmed, but it did not last long. On a dime, her sister was hit with a tremendous wave of anxiety that rolled between the two Zeltrons.

“Spider—what??” A brief moment of panic set it, for an hysterical Kyra was not an easy Kyra.

Was there ever such a thing as an easy Kyra?

“No no no!” Yula waved her free hand back and forth briskly, trying to quickly dispel the notion that she would turn her sister into a spacecraft. “Not like that! Not like that at all! I mean an arm—” She held her own arm up to Kyra, bending it at the elbow several times as if to demonstrate the limb. “—like an arm arm. Only made out of metal.”

She paused, hand finding her chin in thought. “And maybe with a gun. Should put a scanner in there too, I wonder if I can…hold on—” Still gripping Kyra’s hand with her own, she reached into her pocket and hurriedly retrieved a mini datapad, documenting her ideas with quick taps of her thumb.

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

"Oh," she breathed, relaxing back like a deflated balloon. "I dun like Emily," she murmured, speaking to herself as Yula typed away. "All the arms and the squeaks and the -- blah!" Kyra mimicked spider fangs, a brief glimpse given into her train of thought as she referred to Yula's droid. A spider.

She let out another large breath, calming deeper into the blankets. "...I cut off my arm, Yula." Came the sudden, solemn statement. A glance up would find her perturbed, a touch of understanding hitting her through the shock and the drugs.

"Imma get her. I'mma get her back now, I can tie my shoes again." Clearly that was the defining factor on someone's ability to retrieve a lost siblings from the hands of a sith. Her head swirled, a faint twinge of pain echoing down from the lost limb. Phantom pains. She grimaced, head lulling to find the source.

"Hey, where did it go? Oh. Right." She swirled back into the pillows, her disorientation centering back to the reason for this all. "She's in pain, Yula. Don't you feel it?" Kyra did. Her sister's inner struggles haunted her sleep-- a new development for her. They were more than simple nightmares. Her grip turned tight, cutting off circulation.

"You need to make it now. You need to make it fast. She needs me ,Yula-- She. Needs. Me." Her eyes bulged out of her head, her intensity extreme as she tried to impart the levity of her words to her sister.

She thought she was making a point. It looked like she had to poop.

 

[Yula Perl]

Briskly typing away, Yula dutifully ignored Kyra’s distaste for her droid companion. It was a well-established fact that Kyra and Emily did not get along.

Her head only lifted when the pendulum swung the other way into lucid thoughts.

She's in pain, Yula. Don't you feel it?

Yula’s naturally intense gaze met Kyra’s, and for once she had to turn away. Her sister did not glare at her, but the look on her face was severe. Passionate, even. Force knew that the Perls had no shortage of that. Staring out the window as Kyra’s hand tightened painfully, Yula let the shame of being separated from her family wash over her. She was the eldest sister, the one who was supposed to protect her siblings. Instead, she had gone off on her own, away from her family. She loved them dearly, but Kyra and Nida had formed the closest bond.

“She. Needs. Me.”

A protest rose from her pensive silence. “I can’t lose you too. Do you know what that would do to mom?” Her tone was harsh, but it was more of a warning than an attempt to stop her.

Kyra wouldn’t stop. No way. This wasn’t some project she’d lose interest in and abandon, this was the life and morality of the person she was closest to. And if Kyra was going to pursue Nida at all costs, then Yula would do her part to make sure Kyra was as ready as she could be.

One corner of her mouth rose into a lopsided grin. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I started working on a design the minute mom told me what happened.” Her thumb tried to caress Kyra’s hand in the same manner of comfort that their mother had in an attempt to ease her sister’s iron grip. “The first few had a bit of an exploding problem, but we’ll get there.”

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

timeskip xo

There was hope in the changes she had made to better herself. Which is a pretty way to say, Kyra did not regret cutting off her own arm. The rash decision was met with equal horror from those around her. Every time someone tried to understand, she would respond with increasing agitation. In time, the questions stopped, Kyra healed. Soon she was sitting up, color filling her cheeks as energy reentered her speech. The spark of life went beyond her body. The gloomy girl's mood improved too. It was hard to put a finger on the shift in her, but Kyra knew it was the empowerment of her decision to take matters into her own hands.

She was going to get back Nida. She just needed the new arm to do it.

"Yulaaaaaaaaaaa," Kyra whined, sending her sister yet another holo message. She was late. One minute late. Unacceptable. Kyra entered another question mark and pressed enter for the tenth time.

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula hadn’t gone back to Terminus. How could she? One of her sisters had been abducted by the Sith, and the other had cut her own arm off and was hell-bent on bringing Nida back. It was absolutely Perl-grade insanity, and Yula mused on the strange fact that for once, she was the least troublesome one.

The Jedi had offered her accommodations, but the Zeltron had elected to stay on her ship. She’d converted the cargo hold into a slapdash machine shop where she could work on Kyra’s arm in the comfort of familiar surroundings. She had only visited her sister once or twice since Kyra’s hospitalization, the majority of their communication being through text or holocall.

Working night and day thanks to the exhausting buzz of caf and stims, the concept of time had slipped away. It was the alarm that had jarred her back to reality, and Yula hastily gathered her things and made her way towards the hospital.

Bursting through the door, the Zeltron’s wide eyes were abuzz with the type of manic energy that could only come from the cocktail of stimulants and sleep deprivation. Arms full with equipment, she dumped them unceremoniously over Kyra’s bed as if she’d been walking a thousand miles with them in her arms.

“See? See?” She grabbed the mechanical arm, smooth phrik finish glinting off of the fluorescent hospital lights as she wagged it back and forth. “I told you I could do it! Ha!” There was a sense of pride in her voice as she shook the limb at Kyra, speaking as if her baby sister had doubted her. Which she hadn’t, for the record.

Emily trundled in after her, the little spider droid beeping and whirring as she went.

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

"Ow!" Kyra complained, yanking her feet back from the pile of equipment. It hadn't truly hurt, but the complaint fell from her lips anyway. Abuse!

"Where were you, you took foooooorever." Two minutes late. Two. Her grumpy look quickly turned to curious trepidation as Yula waved the arm about. Part of her brain cringed as she watched it be waved limply back and forth, recognizing that it was meant for body. "Hey, don't wave me around like that. You're gonna break it!"

Despite her curiosity, Kyra did not reach out for it. There was something inherently weird about having a piece of you be replaced. It was entirely why she had tried to rehabilitate a shattered arm, and it was now why she looked a little green.

"I'm not sure sure about this, this one doesn't explode anymore.... right?" She pulled back into the bed, knees going to chest.

Yula Perl "you didn't fricken tag meeee" take THAT

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula didn’t seem to care about Kyra’s complaints about her timeliness. Instead, she was too busy being offended by the notion that one of her builds could break so easily.

“What!” She protested, waving the arm back and forth as if to make a point. As if to make her point further, Yula heaved the mechanical arm into the nearest wall as hard as she could. There was a loud thump as part of the wall dented from the impact, and for a moment Yula tensed. But then she remembered why she’d done it, and triumphantly picked up the arm to show Kyra.

“See? Not a dent! It’s got phrik plating, which in one of the strongest materials around.”

Someone cleared their throat, and both sisters would turn to see a nurse poking her head in the room. She eyed the dent in the wall before turning her glare on them. Yula grinned sheepishly, and the nurse simply shook her head and walked away.

“Mostly not.” Yula assured her sister with what was perhaps unwarranted confidence. “I packed a lot into this sucker.” Sitting on her sister’s bed, she offered her the cybernetic limb to touch. “It’s way stronger than your other arm. Plus it comes with shielding, a few scanners and guns. Plus uh…Coren did some fancy Force thing to it.”

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

Kyra flinched hard as the arm impacted the wall. That's mine, screamed her brain as the cybernetic slid down to the floor. Yula was met with a dour look as the scolding nurse slipped back out, the chastising mirrored with a single gaze. Oh she was so telling mom.

"You're gonna make me look bad," she whined, as if Kyra wasn't entirely responsible for the neurotic reputation she had on campus. She eyed the limb, coiling tighter into a ball as Yula sat down and held it out for her to see. The metal surface was free of scratches and dents, but the phrink coating remained cold and uninviting.

"It looks fake," came the tight words. Dread coiled in her gut, emotions flashing hot. She didn't want this. She wanted her arm back. Her real arm. She wanted Nida back. Safe. She wanted anything but this, it all felt so wrong. But there was no going back.

This problem wasn't going away.

She could let the stress overtake her until she keeled over and vomited into the bed, but she would still need this arm and Nida still wouldn't be home.

Kyra felt so small, sitting curled in that hospital bed. She gingerly reached forward and took it into her hand. "It's light," she stated in shock. She looked at the end meant to attach to her body, a bout of anxiety following her next questions. "Is it gonna be enough? How does it work? You're not gonna glue it onto me, right? I don't want it stuck there!"

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

“Of course it looks fake.” Yula puffed out her chest. “It is fake. Synthflesh will only get in your way. Ask mom.”

Despite Yula’s flighty nature and snap decisions, the Zeltron was capable of critical thinking and foresight. Every aspect of Kyra’s arm was designed with her sister’s nature in mind.

That was why Yula didn’t push things or read too closely into Kyra’s reactions. She knew her sister’s nature. When Kyra reached for the arm, Yula passed it to her, considering this progress. Artificial limbs were a big step, and for some it was not an easy decision. “Phrik is light, but really strong. And expensive. You don’t wanna know what I paid for in materials, heh.” Sucking in a breath, Yula paced herself. It would be too easy for her to babble on about the arm’s features and design process.

“No glue, a surgeon will attach it. Believe me, you want a medical professional for this procedure.” A hollow laugh followed before she continued. “It’s a bit lighter than your other arm, but far stronger. Phrik is highly resistant to lightsabers, so keep that in mind.” Yula ran a finger over the smooth surface of the cybernetic hand before tapping the forearm. A display panel blinked to life and she fiddled with the settings.

“I put as much in here as I could without compromising safety. Comms, shielding, scanners, a homing beacon…” She went on, showing Kyra the buttons and commands that would bring up different sensors and weapons, including the cannon that was hidden in the collapsible panels of the hand. She spoke with pride and excitement, ensuring Kyra that they’d go over this again after it was attached so that she’d get a better feel.

“…was that too much? I’m sorry.” Yula’s sheepish smile had a note of sympathy. “Even if it’s not enough, you’ve got me. And mom. And we'll get Nida back, one way or another."

Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

Kyras arm was gonna shoot missals.

Okay maybe not missals.

But close enough.

The blood had drained from Kyra's face, leaving her so pale she might pass for human. It was all a lot. Too much, even. She had just wanted a simple arm-- some illusion that all was as it should be again-- and instead she had... a very complicated weapon. Well, complicated for her. On a normal day it wouldn't be past Kyra to simply break down to her anxieties, but she could feel Yula's pain radiating from her chest.

Their shared pain over Nida. The elder Perl was just trying to help.

Kyra gave her a reproachful look, eye bubbling over with emotion. She surged forward without warning, wrapping Yula in a one-armed hug. Her face buried into her sister's shoulder, the silence passing as her gratitude melted out through the simple gesture. She wasn't alone. She could do this. Yula would see to it that she could do this. Some of the tightness in her chest released.

A bit of wetness graced Yula's shoulder. Kyra rubbed her face into the material and sat up, erasing all evidence. "It's perfect, Yula. The sith won't stand a chance now." The words formed a chant in her mind, the girl urging it to be true. Fake it to you make it? Her tightened on the limb, the metal warming to her touch. She looked down at it again, trying to picture what it would look like after surgery.

"Thank you," she whispered tightly, one precious phrase bubbling to mind. She glanced up, watery blue eyes meeting Yula's in a bought of seriousness. "I love you."

She swallowed hard, questioning silently if the number of times she could utter that phrase was now numbered.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula stiffened as Kyra surged forward, pulling her into a sudden one-armed hug. It wasn’t as if the siblings had never embraced—Zeltrons were tactile by nature—but Yula was uncertain which way the pendulum would swing next. At this point, Kyra was equally as likely to burst out crying or yelling.

I love you.

Usually, it was the opposite. A few gratuitous “I hate you!”s thrown in rapid succession when Yula had done something. Usually, something provocative. Something to annoy her sister and get a response. Like most of what went down recently, Yula couldn’t have predicted the three little words from her baby sister.

“I love you too, kid.” She muttered, placing her hand on Kyra’s back between her shoulder blade, pulling her sister into another hug.

Kyra Perl