Como Se Va?

[Preliat Mantis]

​

The Mandalorian sat on the edge of the hot springs, his eyes wandering around the area passively. He did not seem to take in the beauty of the springs, until after a moment of realizing where he was. He started to remove his armor, letting it fall at his feet with a heavy thud. Eventually, he was down to his spandex leggings, that stopped just shy of his knee. It helped prevent a magnitude of problems with wearing armor all the time. His hair fell about, tangled and loose from hours of wearing it under a helmet. He slowly made his way into the hot springs, and felt the immediate flash of heat. And with it, came a flashback. Black ooze. Body parts. Hot, acidic blood that sprayed near him. A screaming, terrified girl trapped in a monster's body. He could still remember how they were pleading with their eyes for both help, and for death. How they screamed for death, to escape the torment they were in. He sank further into the hot springs, both trying to escape the memory, and try to overcome it.

But how could a kid, overcome that memory? He wondered how the others did it, if they cared at all. Or maybe they'd been desensitized by it all before. He sank into the water, where it reached his tattooed shoulders. He gave off a mighty shudder, as if the water had turned to ice. He wondered when [member="Triam Akovin"] would get there, so he could have something otherwise to preoccupy his mind other than hot, steamy water, and a terrible memory.

 

[Cassus Akovin]

"Deep breath." She told herself.

It had been a little while since Demonsgate, and since then, she had preoccupied herself with going 'round the galaxy selling her spare gear. She had already made upwards of half a million credits from it alone. Despite the incredible disappointment of the Demongate Raid in terms of thrill, at least she had been able to obtain the first ton in her saga for Popo. It was really incredibly unrememorable. She blamed it on that Sith client she hired for the op, him and his stupid negotiating. In a raid, you don't negotiate with locals, you taze them, drug them, and send 'em spacewards (but first you check for a bounty, just in case).

With a sigh she tried to clear her head of business, which was notoriously difficult for her to do. Since Roche, her life had been nothing but business. She was glad she had him around then, she wasn't sure she would have survived, even with that odd quirky Gen'Dai whom she never saw again. Then later, after she lost her hand and was on her way to The Pit, Prelait was one of the few who got her out of the jam, and assisted her drunken recuperation on Wallala. After that she ungratefully disappeared from him and entered into a Rakatan Contest, where she climbed the later to the top... and then nearly died.

The shock from the uncomfortably close death just around the corner, and the stress of the loss, but a dent in her confidence. She had been unsuccessfully hunted around the galaxy for her bounty, but every time she left them essentially unharmed and high tailed out as soon as possible. She wasn't in the mood for dueling. Recently, she had rumors of a Beast Hunting Guild, that may very well be right up her ally, along with some order that teaches a martial art supposedly effective against Jedi. She would investigate, but she doubted anything short of plot-armor could do that. But once again her mind side tracked into the not-now. She was fairly close to pulling out her hair... so maybe it was a good thing she decided to visit Prelait for once, and finally fulfill her obligatory date. She owed so many people so much... but she also knew of people who owed her.

"Damn you Mikhail, I'll find you. Champion my ass." She whispered to herself bitterly. After about five minutes from the time she told herself to breathe, she finally did. Her mind was a mess, and it was about time she took a vacation.

Still in her ship she stared at a full set of armor, dented, scraped, and dirtied. 8 Kilograms Ultrachrome. 10 kilograms Phrik. A bit of Cortosis, and unimaginably heavy Neuranium. A quasi-jedi/sith artifact, and terentatek darts. Since buying the Bodo Baas, she wasn't sure if it was her style yet, but that's not why she customarily took inventory. She took inventory because that's what she did. The strange artifact she bought at auction mad her mad. She knew what it did, but the very fact it duplicated what she put into it made her mental inventory system screwed up to no end. Her really bothered her developing OCD. She didn't know if she wanted to bring any of it to where Prelait had asked her to meet him.

On a planet full of armored people she wouldn't look out of place, but she didn't know if he would recognize her. She was almost an entirely different person... and she was. Her ordeals in the tournament changed her dramatically, even if she did her best not to show it. She was getting an ego, and it was applied to that armor... all of it. Perhaps she should go 'naked', wear a dress or something. Did she even wear dresses? Was that a thing she did?

She really wished she had a lighter, less battle intensified armor. Maybe, something light, breathable, casual, yet still functional without being a complete tank. She would ponder on this later, as the increasingly bulky suit was quickly growing into something that could not be used for stealth, and stealth is a good tactic not to be lost because you invested all your eggs into one basket that might not work one day.

Force damn it she kept rambling in her head! Frustrated she actually hit herself to focus on the 'task' at hand.

She just wore her undersuit. It was light, and functional enough to help her shrug off energy damage, though not much more than that. Damn it, I'm not going to war for force' sakes! Stop inventorying! She thought furiously.

She walked out of her old freighter ungracefully parked, and began to pinken realizing just out of place and naked she really felt. Trying to shake off the embarrassment she found transportation to the lake. Once there she began to walk, and away from the small city she had arrived at, since she felt uncomfortable going to Keldabe for worry lingering radiation may be present. She wasn't aware of how far the reconstruction project had gone from the ages ago it had been nuked.

Upon the lake, she finally found the man she was looking for. His armor was nearby, and he was resting in the lake looking relaxed and ravaged at the same time. She knew the feeling of being worn, though not in the way secretly going around in his head, unbeknownst to her. Despite her friendship with him, she still felt like she didn't know anything about him. Perhaps that would change today, and onwards.

Still walking she yelled to him.

"Well... hello there. Visiting or scrapping?" She said smiling at the memory of their first meeting. Damn she was a ditz then... and probably now too. People don't often change. She stood a few meters from him now, standing in her black Armor Underlay.

"It's good to see you again [member="Preliat Mantis"]." She said upon getting his attention.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Triam Akovin"]'s voice rang his ears. His ears and mind were alight with a mixture of pain, fear, and regret. There was a loud ringing, like an explosion had gone off near his head and all he could do was stand there bewildered for a moment. However, his mind seemed to be able to process information while his soul wallowed in it's guilt. He breathed sharply and shallowly, caressing himself in the murky, hot water. He twitched, in pain, in fear for a moment. He stood tall after a moment, laying his hair back over his head, and partially covering up the tattoo that he had recently acquired. He flexed his back for a moment, before turning back to face Triam.

He didn't say anything for a long while, because he noticed the change. And maybe she did too. He remained in the water, the liquid at his chest level. The tattoo on his back, peaked from his shoulder. He breathed deeply, composing himself before speaking after a while.

"The tournament's champion. What a surprise, visiting such a lowly place."

 

[Cassus Akovin]

"Well... not exactly." She frowned slightly. "I was kinda almost murdered at the end. I made the other guy blind and piss his pants though." She tried to put a positive spin on it. There was a lot of triumphs as well as great costs in that tournament. More notably, her stand off with Ashin Varanin. It was strange how most of her gear was defeated by her own machinations, merely with a slight assist by the Jedi. Though she did add to her gimpy knee (an honor), which made her mad enough to literally push her out of a wall. Eventually it ended with an agreement, that they would duke it out without gear or force powers... where she dramatically power smashed her gut with a dead arm, causing her to ungracefully throw up everywhere and submit before even throwing a punch. Her match after that was nothing.

She looked down worried. He was silent a good time before he responded. He had taken a short intake of breath previously. It seemed like he was in a deep personal pain, not unlike her guilt for killing that Onderon Police officer because of nerves. But it was deeper than that. She has the time to break down once and drink until she cried her life away... him though... it didn't seem he had the luxury of such a release. Alcohol might just pass through him, as if his problem was a stone in his heart, and the drink splashes on the surface and drizzles around it. It was sad, but she tried to not make her concern overtly visible.

Without asking, she resumed to sit beside him, feet in the warm water but still sitting on the ground.

"Oh, and I made Ashin Varanin puke." She devilishly smirked at her infamy, to mask the worry for her friend.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Winning isn't always about how you win. You should take note of that."Triam, was right. No drink could quell the demons that Preliat faced, and he was not about to go and find a drug that would either. He turned back to her, smiling. He stood tall in the water. It seemed whenever he had the matter of war, it was a more...pleasant discussion."I sacked Dromund Kaas. I destroyed the Sith Empire's throne. My brothers and sisters have literally put it into an ice age. The planet will not be the same for years. In our lifetimes, possibly. We defeated the New Order, with such ferocity that even I could admire."He paused, adjusting his long black hair. He didn't have the hair cut like he did before, the shaved sides of his head.

Another pause, before he spoke again."I've killed over one hundred people since we last met. And speaking of Ashin...she called me a wolf."He said, grinning and fixating his eyes on [member="Triam Akovin"]. She was deadly beautiful, a femme fatale in the purest sense. However, he was a savage- a brute that knew mostly of war. He had no interest in riches, rare metals, or even finer things. His glory, his treasure, was the lives he robbed and the souls he spun to the Reaper. His gold was red, and his coin was bone.

He was nearly far gone, now. Too absolved in his own hatred and rage, and down to the very essence of his soul. Where all the pain truly lie- where he hid it all away.

 

[Cassus Akovin]

She listened intently to him as she swirled her legs in the water. It wasn't anything she didn't expect already. The Mandalorian people strived in war, and the galaxy had no shortage of war. [member="Preliat Mantis"] was a warrior, pure and simple. One would be an idiot not to assume he had killed people. Even she had killed people... and lots of them if you counted bugs as people. But not on the scale the Mandalorian "Wolf" before her had. He was rabid, untamed, unkempt, and wild. He had indeed changed over the course of their relationship, but in some ways so had she, though she doubted she had change to the degree Prelait might have had.

What did throw her for a loop though was that they had both met Ashin Varanin. It appeared one thing between them was shared, they were infamous to at least one of those most consider "the most powerful people in the galaxy". She was curious about his relationship with her and how the two fit in. After all... every Republic schoolgirl had heard the dreaded name back in her reign as Empress of the Sith. Yet even still, it appeared it was a rouse of some kind, as the Jedi had accepted her, after building the massive Fringe Confederacy. Triam would be lying if she said she didn't seek fame, but not even in her wildest dreams did she imagine she could ever match something like Ashin. Yet even still she had fought her and won, though as many would argue, it was due to her nature and honor that Triam even survived at all.

That certainly put a different spin on the outcome of the Cauldron's finale... she was an unknown, an underdog that managed to oust the only other being most considered the obvious match up with Mikhail Shorn. If Ashin had revoked her honor and killed Triam, and went to the finale, Triam believed most would agree the Conqueror of Ten Thousand Worlds would crush the Thronebreaker.

"A wolf, eh? Does that imply you need to be tamed?" She looked up smirking at him with her head still downwards, leaned back on her hands with her feet still in the water. Shifting again, she jumped the conversation over a bit.

"If you don't mind my asking, how do you know Ashin? As you know, I met her by chance and got lucky. For you though, are you some big Mandalorian hot shot, calling the attention of powerful women?" She looked up and winked. It was her hope humor may lighten his mood. It was doubtful, but there was a chance. There was always a chance.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Triam Akovin"] brought a grim smile to Preliat's face. He turned his back towards her, and the large Shriek-hawk tattoo was visible, with it's wings reaching up to either side of his neck, and it's talons reaching all the way to the edge of his back. The tattoo was largely blood red and black in nature, a reflection of the bearer of the tattoo. He could feel the judgmental and nearly sympathetic look from her. He never had any qualms about intrusions into his mind, thanks to his Epicanthix birth, but for some reason, he felt that Triam had reached into his mind in a way, just with a simple stare. And for the first time since his childhood, he felt a twinge of shame, a twinge that he wanted to dissipate - immediately.


While Triam had been off making a name for herself, Preliat was busy exacting vengenance and death to anything that wielded a red saber, or supported them. He leaned back, rolling his head backwards, dipping his head into the water, backwards. He felt the warm water caress his skull, wrapping it in a warm, less dense sensation. Eventually, he was floating on his back. Then, she spoke, and his mind seemed to process it before he could respond to it. He felt like he was on auto-pilot, as if he had checked out of the mental hotel months ago. Which, he may have.

He responded after a short while of thinking.

"You can pretend to tame a wolf. Ashin is a powerful woman, and has saved the Mandalorians many times. Mandalore himself, owes her a debt. And Manda'yaim- owes her a great debt. She is one of us, if you ask me. I met her recently, and I believe she was more nervous because I had heard her power was weakened in a way by the Jedi. And...I may have hugged her with my crushgaunts on."He smirked, but did not smile.

 

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"] laid his back to the water, after having stood up in the water, revealing the tattoo she had failed to notice about him. Droplets of water clung to the microscopic hairs of his skin, creating watery streaks across the rippling of his muscles as they fell to the beckoning of gravity. Similar to lightning, the water behaved as it should have, and sought the easy path across the hills of the man's powerful body. Trying her best not stare at him was difficult, not merely by the base chemical reactions in her head stimulated by the image of a strapping man in his prime on full display, but more out of embarrassment that she felt so bare without her armor. She was embarrassed he was bare as well. This was an exclusive occurrence to her, to have seen him without wearing a kilogram of armor. Then as she thought about it, it was an exclusive occurrence for him, not seeing a kilogram on her.

Somehow mutual exclusivity antagonized one's self consciousness and feelings of embarrassment or anxiety. Without thinking about it she brushed hair out of her face, and recalled what her friend said somberly, but with a flicker of compassion that was different from the... hopelessness?... of before. She couldn't know the pain, or apathy as a result of internal agony, that had afflicted the Mandalorian. Though as memory recalled, as it always did, she remembered a fear he had admitted to upon their first meeting. It wasn't likely that fear went away, thus she deducted if it was not related to that, it could only have been war. It was the sith that did this to him. Not directly most likely, but through their actions against his people, that in turn provoked his rage. So then it was rage that consumed him so. Though to what degree? It could not be said.

Remembering that he should ferocity in the state of her injury back then without even really knowing her, she wondered if that ferocity could be called upon now. If she died now, would he be in pain? Or would apathy have killed such emotions already? What did she know anyway, she was a mechanic at heart, not a psychiatrist. He wasn't some patient to be handled by her, because she had clients. Clients were easily handled: they want something, you get it, they pay so you can buy things you want or need. Unfortunately with clients you can't buy cures to things in your head. Pretty soon, she was beginning to feel she was assuming too much about Prelaits character, and quickly allowed her embarrassment to multiply.

She was his friend. He had helped her in a drunken state, helped her survive her first encounter with the galaxy, was there for her when she escaped punishment for her crimes, and even assisted on a random pointless job that had nothing to do with him. Who was she to doubt his feelings if she died? But then... she couldn't really know, as even if Prelait felt like she penetrated his mind, she was no Jedi. She could have him all figured out without even knowing it.

Seriousness aside though, Triam absolutely could not manage to hold back a small bout of laughter at a mental image of Prelait literally crushing Ashin in a bear hug.

"Ha!" She held a hand to her mouth, hiding a big smile. "That's adorable!" She calmed down quickly, but the smile didn't go away. Standing up now, she began to wade into the water slowly, staying near Preliat but not too close. A comfortable distance. She didn't like anything too close to her, that's where she was vulnerable and helpless.

"I'll have to remember that tactic whenever the next time it is we spar or something." A nice big smirk on her face as her hands played in the water, and face looking at the swirlies in the water.

There was a moment however thereafter that she wasn't really sure what else to say. There was some good humor between them, but she didn't seem capable of smoothing him down... or herself for that matter. There was an odd tension in the air. Suddenly a thought struck her, and it bounced directly out of her blonde head.

"Preliat, are you okay?"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

There was a long silence between the two. At least, to Preliat. To Triam, it was a moment. A second. Maybe the spaces between seconds. Preliat couldn't recall the name for that amount of time, but to him, after Triam posed the most dreaded open ended question, he stared upwards at the sky. Water pooled downward from his body as he shifted his feet back to the mud and sand beneath them, ancient rocks crushed down to a fine grain. His brown eyes glanced everywhere but at Triam. Finally, after those few moments in time passed, his eyes locked with hers. His gaze was penetrating and cold, a stare not of a calculating murderer, or a scholar or even a fatherly or kind figure. It was as Ashin said. It was like looking at a wolf. That's what Preliat had become. An animal. Pain and memories came flooding back to Preliat, in a single, awful moment. They pooled into the depths of his mind, blackening the rest of his soul. It was as if someone had placed a glass of water and dropped ink into it, the way it seeped into his soul. It hadn't just started a few months ago. It started a long time ago- when the Dark Harvest happened. It affected him differently than others, it was a tragedy that a young man had to witness. A practical kid, placed into the Mandalorian army. How he remembered how brave he felt, and how it all shattered in a singular instance.

The girl. He remembered the girl. The thrashing, blackened girl. He could still see her now, standing behind Triam. She was tall, and would have been beautiful if it were not for the Dark Harvest virus. She was young, too. Maybe a year or two younger than he was at the time. He breathed in sharply, as he faced the literal demon from his past. She moved towards him, and then sank into the water, as if she was descending stairs. The water turned black. It all turned black. Tendrils of the Dark Harvesters came from the depths, and then, they started to wash ashore. All those he killed. James Parker came shambling from the depths, half of his head crushed inward. Sith came out, their lightsabers humming with their quiet rage. Preliat had to get out of the water. They all came back, they all came for him.

His hands pushed through the murky water, scrambling for the safety and dryness of the shore. His knee was the first to meet the sand of the shore, his hands following as they reached out to break his fall. He vomited, spilling his stomach all over the shore. He collapsed after that, breathing erratically. Anxiety attack. It had been a long while since he had one. Normally, he had one in the middle of combat, but her asking something as so simple 'Are you okay' triggered one.

Whatever tension was felt, was either broken, or it created more. Preliat had never, never, in his life, been outward with his problems. He had always felt that they were his own, and they were. But he did not like to show weakness, and he took to putting on this facade of a savage. And it eventually became who he was - the mask became the man. The lie, became the awful truth. He sharply exhaled, opening his eyes. The world was back to what it was- the foggy, steamy hot springs where he found himself with [member="Triam Akovin"]. He remembered what his father called the spaces between seconds now- moments. Moments in time that you will never forget. And he knew, for the rest of his natural life- that he would not forget the moment that he broke. He shattered. He faltered in his facade of strength. Everyone knew him as one of the most brutal, savage and deadliest Mandalorians- but what they didn't know, was the young man who, at heart, was broken.

He sat up on the shore, his breathing slowing down. He looked up at Triam, and narrowed his eyes. They softened, after a moment. Here he was, showing weakness. He watched the graceful movements of Triam, before shaking his head and adjusting his hair. He did not go into detail- the details may have already been there for Triam to assume.

"No."

 

[Cassus Akovin]

She watched. She stood there and watched. She saw it in his faces... his eyes... his body, their muscles, everything. It seemed to surround him, inescapable. A night-horror in broad daylight. The pain, oh the insurmountable pain. One did not need to be a legendary master empath to see the wretched black cancer plaguing the mind of her friend, and feel the pain it wrought. She had no idea what truly it was like to experience such devastation, but she recognized it instantly, brought herself to his level and shivered with a flash of cold in hot bubbling water over a warm sun. The emotional maelstrom that told its story across his face was like a punch in her gut.

She sprung the question to soon, she didn't allow him to digest the possibility of her inquiry. "A-are you okay, Preliat?" She had stuttered while in the water as his reality fell apart to the gore of Dark Harvest, an event she was thankfully left out of. Severe worry made a permanent fixation on her face. Damn you and your mouth! She cried in her head, despising the three words that escaped her mouth before she could hold them in. She tried to come near him, grab him by the shoulders and shake him out of it, but he immediately ran from her, lashing out at the air in front of him. She was still far behind him as he collapsed onto the shore.

"Preliat!" She cried, her voice muffled by fear and the bubbling water crashing along with the Mandalorian. Before she could think of doing anything he vomited. Once again, she was left knowing it didn't take a psychologist to recognize a panic attack. If only to reiterate what had been told through his actions, she heard the reply, and her heart shattered. Stunned by it all she just stood there in wonder, half of her body wanting to bolt by his side, and the other wondering if he needed his space. He needed to breathe, but he need support. For the first time in her career as a thrill junkie she had a malfunction in her flight or fight response, that before had always been permanently lodged forward into the fight position.

In this case her engines just stalled and shut down. Her mind was in free fall.

"No" Echoed through her mind. It seemed to snap her out of it, and she scurried over to her friend. Immediately she felt the impulse to hold him, and though she couldn't resist the impulse she was capable of restraining it into a quasi-composed manner. As the grown man was left upon all his limbs like a dog, she rounded his body until she was facing him and picked up his shoulders to look at him. So worried for her friend and pumped up on fearful adrenaline she didn't even notice the mess upon the sand. She looked intently at his eyes and even if he avoided her gaze she moved her head to match his.

"Preliat... damn it Preliat! I'm so sorry...." She continued to move her mouth as if to say more, but froze. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, and removed her gaze, tears forming at her eyes. She had no idea of what to do or say, she just continued to whisper she was sorry. How do you comfort a friend who didn't even consider himself human any more?

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Triam Akovin"] lay over the Mandalorian, but she might have been a million miles away. The hot springs warmth did little, he felt cold to the touch. He shook violently, trying to regain his composure, his facade of a man. He was- as Triam had previously concluded- an animal. An animal that had been let loose to the galaxy, and had had no such boundaries, no parameters, no real morals besides upholding the Resol'nare and protecting his vode. He normally moved like a wolf, low and fast, now, he seemed like a wounded bear, ready to lash out any of those who attempted to help it.


There he was. Weak. Pathetic. What he had fought so hard to suppress, what he had fought so hard to make sure he never had to face. Himself. He had fought so many things, and had defeated so many enemies. Bounty Hunters. Sith. Even a crime lord, at one point. But what he hadn't even bothered to fight was his personal demons. And right now, they seemed to be released from their emotional spring, exploding outwards in a hailstorm of bad memories. And here he was, at the center of the hurricane.

"I died. I died at the Dark Harvest. I died when I killed that girl, I died when I killed all those people. Don't you DARE-"His head snapped towards her, snarling his words. Preliat truly was a frightening individual."Feel sorry for me. I am not some pathetic schoolgirl who had her heart broken. I am a man with demons. Do not pity me. Pity those who did not survive what I had to go through. Why am I alive, Triam? Why did I live, and they die? Why does it seem that everywhere I go, I bring death and destruction? Is the mask I created who I really am, or was I lying to myself before the Dark Harvest about what I was really like?"His words were haste and hurried, as if thousands of thoughts and memories were trying to be formed into a single sentence. How much death- had he caused? How much destruction- had he brought? How many lives destroyed? How many families impacted? How many children left fatherless? How many mothers without sons? How many brothers missing their brother?

And would it ever end for him?

 

[Cassus Akovin]

There really wasn't a whole lot she could say. Preliat was the damaged one here... he couldn't seem weak, but she didn't want to lay down and say "yes of course Preliat I will never feel human compassion again". She had to shock him, slap him silly out of his stupor. Despite her perfectly normal human feelings, she had to think like a machine to actualize them. Being a savage animal seemed to be Preliat's curse... being a sarcastic cocky machine was hers. Preliat though had shown weakness, and for a Mandalorian Man of his caliber, that hurt him almost as much as his actual pain did. She had to uplift him from the silliness of that notion, that he was weak. She had to lower her defenses and let loose her weaknesses, dig deep and cut deeper. She was a surgeon now, aiming for complete emotional precision.

"...what..." She said in response to the notion of pity. Her voice was breaking a little bit, as much from her own emotions as much as her nervousness for her friend's sanity. It was definitely breaking, and it didn't seem likely it was going to be fixed anytime soon, or by anything she says now. Though what she does now may band-aid their relationship. She pushed against him and stood up, shaking her head. Her brows began to furrow, her mouth in a frown, and her eyes moist with emotion, to match her wet trembling body.

"You think this is pity?" She scoffed, "You surmount my compassion for damnable karkin' pity?!" Her face began to redden, and her fists tightened. She knew she would feel guilty for her words and actions later, but she felt it was imperative to their situation. In the heat of emotion, her hand whipped for a backhand across the face. The moment needed shock, and she was willing to risk retaliation for it.

"A dead man carries no regrets Preliat, the dead carry no pain. Don't you dare, say you are dead. You GRIEVE. You REGRET. YOU FEEL PAIN FOR THOSE WHO CAN'T THEMSELVES!" She was yelling now, really getting into the heat of it. "PRELIAT..." She paused, "Your heart was broken..." She lapsed in the yelling, trying to cool the strategic rage.

"... and it was broken for the right reasons, haunted by demons that aren't there. You have been pretending, pretending for a dead girls benefit, who you saved from horror." She kneeled down, the final waves of anger washing through her. She looked to his face, full of anger, fear, and pain.

"Please... do not be my father..." She allowed several consecutive tears to fall before she wiped them away. "...when it is your time to, please, stop pretending... I cannot lose another soldier to himself." Her act somewhere in the middle of her outburst had at some point become all too sincere for comfort, and some of the emotions were even real. She had often wondered that if her father had not been a soldier to inspire her, what she would have been? It probably would have been an actress, or something like that.

She didn't want the word to be hers though, her words meant nothing to a man who was eating himself alive. It had to be his word marking it final. If anything went through his skull at all, she might have her friend back... if not... she may have severed one more tie with men in her life.

"I don't know what else to say, Preliat..." She sat down, resting her elbows on her knees, hands grasping her head.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Triam Akovin"] would find that she did the one thing that a lot of people feared about Preliat. She made him mad. His hands dug into the sand and rock of the shore, his teeth snarling with unquenched rage and his deep, awful bloodlust. That was brought on, by the slap. It was momentary rage, shaking and violent. And Preliat, perhaps, had been pushed. Pushed too far. Too much, too soon, too fast. His eyes darted upwards to Triam. And that's when he moved. He went for a single leg takedown, aiming not to hurt or maim her, but to simply get her on her back. Being that was the superior fighter, that would probably happen very quickly and very suddenly.

"You speak as if you know of my struggle beyond what I have told you. My demons are not measured in-"He went for a savage kick at her ribcage."The monsters at Dark Harvest. I do not ask for your compassion, I do not ask for you pity!"Words spit forth, from a place of hatred and rage. This is what Preliat was, not who he had become. The Dark Harvest just brought the monster out, released the demon from it's cage. Triam was now looking upwards at what Ashin had saw, an animal. Preliat had been let loose.

The Dark Harvest did not matter anymore.

The Mask of Madness did not matter anymore.

The infected girl did not matter anymore.

All that mattered was the rage. All the hatred. The deep seated lust for blood that infected him like a pox. The curse of being gifted in the art of hunting and killing, coupled with the rage to do it. His brown eyes flickered like flames, staring at Triam for what he was to her - a threat to his existence.

"Are you afraid of me, Triam?"