Private Dark Dreams

[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Silver Rest - Dorm Room
Tag: Desbre Gensan


The Bryn’adul were relentless in the skies above the battle raged as did it on the ground. Milya stood alongside her Master at one of the forward positions outside the shield. The Bryn were crashing on them in waves for each one they struggled to bring down another took its place. This was a losing battle and her master knew it, they both knew it yet still they would fight on. Milya for her part was caked in blood and dirt she had long since lost track of who it belonged to and she had little time to care as she slammed her saber to the hilt into the torso of another Bryn she heard her master call out. “Milya you need to run, you need to run now get out of here!” she heard but she ignored it she would not abandon her master so quickly to save her own skin. “Master you are out of your mind if you think I am leaving you to die!”

She gave a quick look around the battlefield troopers were dying left and right and the number of invaders only seemed to grow, her master was right of course. It would not be long at this rate before they both fell to the Bryn’adul. “Milya, we are not arguing about this. Stop fighting and run NOW!” she shouted as she kicked one of the Bryn as hard as she could using the momentum to launch herself back at another one. “And I told you master, respectfully NO!” what happened next she hadn’t anticipated at all, the white haired girl was lifted from her feet and thrown from the battle with such force that she was separated from her lightsaber, as she hit the ground she rolled several times hitting a piece of sharp durasteel most likely from a crashed fighter of some sort.

Whatever it was it had sliced through her sword arm, as she climbed to her feet clutching the wound she began looking to orient herself her blue eyes searching frantically for her master but they would only fall on her master just in time to see the killing blow. Nothing then could stop the tears that followed not just having witnessed the death but feeling the hole that it ripped into the Force. Her breath caught in her lungs and she simply froze, she clenched her eyes closed willing it to not be so but at the same time she heard her master's voice once again “RUN” she turned as tears streamed down her face and ran with every ounce of energy left in her body.

She awoke with a start, a sharp inhaled breath much like she had taken her nightmare recalling that damned day. She could feel the tears rolling but they would not be stopped by will alone, she pawed at her eyes in futility as the tears continued unabated. Finally she closed her eyes and drew in a deep steadying breath, it would take her several minutes before it stopped and she wiped her eyes quickly while the darkness hid her. She turned toward Desbre Gensan hoping she didn’t wake her, she quietly slipped from her bed and moved toward the window. Dawn was still several hours off but there would be no more rest for her tonight not while that memory was fresh in her mind.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Location: Dorms, Silver Rest, Kashyyk​

Equipment: Over-sized shirt, inherited lightsaber,​

Tag: Milya Vondar​

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Icy winds whipped by her in the darkened tunnel. The occasional light streaked by overhead, a sporadic pool of cold white light, there and gone in a blink. Her hands wrapped tightly around the controls of her swoop bike as she stretched low over the body. The roar of the engine and whine of the repulsors was music to her ears, though somewhat muffled by the helmet and visor protecting her face. At these speeds, a bug could put out an eye, or a fleck of ice. The floor of the tunnel was a blur below and seemed almost smooth at a glance. Speed gave it such illusion though she knew full well that there were chunks of ice and rock littering it, and at these speeds, a crash would beat and shred her to death.

Even so, a smile plastered across her face, mostly hidden. There was a series of winding turns coming up ahead. She could catch up to Tarkelo Vor. He was another swooper on the circuit. Aggressive, and a hothead. He used intimidation to get ahead in the races. She was currently in the leaders stack and trailing him. But he just wasn't as good as she was. Standing up a bit, she used her legs as much as her body to begin weaving through the slalom, focusing on her timing rather than slowing down, hitting it at just the right angle.

Ahead she could make out the heat of his engine and body outline against the cold tunnel. She hadn't lost much speed, not as much as he was. Even though he was accelerating, she opened her throttle up more and ate up the distance within seconds. Pulling up to his left she let off the throttle a little just to match speeds, ignoring the icicles dangling overhead as they rushed along at several hundred kilometers per hour.

She raised her left hand, waving with her fingers in a slightly teasing manner before firmly taking hold of her vehicle once more. HIs rude gesture only made her laugh out loud. Opening her throttle once more she flashed the boosters and accelerated ahead, now leading the pack. Ans for the moment she was free. Everything seemed to slow down, time stretching forward, and back. She could almost feel everything around her. The Force flowed through her, and she was one with it, with everything. Except there was trouble elsewhere, off the track. Her grandmother was in danger. A flash of shock and distress. Pain. Disorientation and confusion, then fear, combined with the preceding spike of worry, of anxiety. Over her.

Desbre slowed a bit. Grams? And then a sensation of cold, of her grandmother... receding, diminishing. Dying.

SLAM!

The impact of a boot to her side nearly knocked her off the bike. Another boot hit her steering controls, turning her strakes hard, heading for the wall. Tarkelo, that sithspawn! She wrenched her controls to the right and rolled while pulling up. Instead of slamming into the wall at speed, she managed to kiss it with the bottom of her swoop. But even then a shower of sparks exploded off the ice and rock walls. Displays began to edge into yellows, oranges, and reds as that particular bump had done some nasty damage. Throttling down she nearly collided with another racer and had to bail. The bike flew on but quickly came to a halt while she slammed into the snow and ice lining the floor. She skidded thanks to the armor and skin-tight racing suit. It was still immensely painful, but she would only be bruised, rather than shredded. Coming to rest, she lay in the snow, letting the cold soothe the burning pains.

Deep, heavy footfalls approached. She could see a pair of feet enter her line of sight as she lay partially on her belly, and on her right side. One of them left the ground. It impacted her ribs with terrible force, lifting her off the ground sending her flying into the wall. The impact rattled her teeth and between it and the boot, she couldn't breathe. What?

Straightening up, her lightsaber was in hand, which she turned on. Looking up, she found a massive Drael standing over her. One hand, the right, reached down, grabbing her by the throat, lifting her off her feet as though she were nothing but a piece of flimsi. The figure slammed her against the wall again. Her helmet shattered, splitting apart. Her vision swam, and she tried to make herself move, but she couldn't even breathe.

"You left me to die," She said, not in the Drael language, not even in Basic, but the airy, almost wind and snow language of Arkanian. The voice was ever so familiar, like that of her grandmother. It was thick with contempt and accusation, and suspiciously it looked a lot like Grams. It was a twisting of nightmares. "Selfish, insolent little whore." Another slam.

Hot tears welled up and began to fall. "No! I just wanted to blow off some steam," she protested weakly, sobbing. "I never intended for anything to happen." The saber in her hand dangled from nearly nerveless fingers.

"I would still be alive if not for you, little welp," Grandma Drael snarled, hand tightening mercilessly, as though she might completely crush Desbre's neck with near-infinite and terrible strength.

"That's not true! The medical examiner said--"

The hand around her throat tightened. "It doesn't matter. It's your fault." That, Des couldn't argue, even as she began to black out.

Desbre snapped awake with a gasp, clawing at her throat, unable to see, barely able to breathe. A moment later she took a huge, deep breath, sucking in lungfuls of air, only to finally settle down her breathing, and flop back on her bed. It was the dream again. But different this time. The first time he'd seen her grandmother as a Drael. What did that mean? Did she think her grandmother was some kind of monster? Or was it just the guilt monster wearing her grandmother's face?

Rolling onto her side, she heard the other girl she was rooming with toss, turn, struggling, fighting. She made a few pitiful whimpers. then she took woke up with a start. Listening to her sob quietly, Des clutched a pillow to her chest. Her heart ached for the girl, even though she barely knew her. Only that something terrible had happened at least in her dream. With nary a sound, she heard the girl get out of bed and pad to the window. Wiping her own eyes, Des slowly floated to the floor and padded over, quiet as a whisper. Not that she was trying to be, but her natural grace and not wanting to intrude made her naturally quiet. One hand gently landed on Milya's shoulder then slipped to the other side, an arm going around the Echani. They were virtually the same height and similar build so it was quite easy. At the same time, she gently brushed against Milya's consciousness, not to intrude, but to just bridge the gap, the same way she used her touch. Empathy and sympathy flowed across that connection as she stood with her. "I don't know what that was about, but I'm sorry for your loss," she said earnestly. Whatever happened, she knew at least that much. Milya had lost someone she cared about a lot. Same as Desbre had.

 

[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Silver Rest - Dorm Room
Tag: Desbre Gensan


She hadn’t heard or sensed anything as she silently stared out the window her mind was halfway across the galaxy, not even registering the view from the window perhaps it was quite lovely at night, who could say her own thoughts were not so close. She was focused on a particular dot in the night sky, she didn’t know if it was Yurb or not but it didn’t matter she treated it like that bright star was without a doubt Yurb and never took her eyes from it. The silvery light of the moon touched her face letting Des see that she was no longer crying but she was clearly troubled by some trauma still hidden from her, her features were strong and beautiful but at this moment all she could see in the face of the young woman was pain.

She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and jumped slightly she turned her head to look at her roommate standing there behind her. A mildly confused expression dotted her features for a moment and she started to protest before Des wrapped her arm around her before she could get a word out. Her first instinct, her usual response for people butting into things that didn't concern them she wanted to tell her to mind her own business, she wanted to shove her away and get angry. Yet she did none of those things she just looked out the window again biting her lip gently. She felt the touch of the girl on her mind and sighed softly, she didn’t know her at all really but still she was at least showing some interest in her well being that was enough to subdue the more violent response.

She drew a short breath and words left her before she realized she had spoken them “My Master, died on Yurb.'' the words themselves were barely a whisper as she ran a hand absently along the scar on her right arm; it ran nearly from her wrist to her elbow and charted a jagged course up her arm it marred her otherwise beautiful skin a constant reminder of her former master. It was plainly visible as she was wearing a loose white sleeveless shirt and a pair of white shorts. She turned slightly as she regarded the other woman with an almost wary gaze. “The Bryn'adul killed my master in front of me.” the worlds hung in the silence between the two women letting the weight of the words sink in “I almost died there... My master saved me. Told me to run but I wouldn't... If I had, maybe..” she sighed in mild frustration wondering why she was saying this to somebody she barely knew.

Her voice cracked slightly and she bit her lip a bit again, not daring to speak further and turned her eyes back to the distant star she had been staring at. She folded her arms across her chest, a somewhat defensive measure while at the same time seeking to comfort herself. Des would be able to see her eyes moisten in the soft light but still she tried so hard to keep a brave face, to not show what she felt. Not for anybody herself, she wanted to be strong to honor her master in at least some way. For Milya she was far too consumed in her own pain to notice what the other woman was dealing with, she had not resisted the gentle touch on her mind if anything perhaps because she wanted somebody to feel how her mind had become a storm of pain and emotion. At this point within the storm of emotion she could feel her Echani blood heating up, now she just had a desire to hit a durasteel plate as hard as she could repeatedly and yell as loudly as possible but for now she would settle for staring a hole into the window.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Location: Silver Rest Dorms, Kashyyyk​

Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, inherited lightsaber, light-filtering lenses​

Tag: Milya Vondar​

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The first words hit her like a hammer in the chest. She'd lost three masters in one way or another over the last few years. She couldn't imagine what would happen were she and Caltin in that situation. How much that would hurt. But her mind turned back to the loss of her grandmother. That was the closest she could think of. As well as losing her parents. Even losing her homeworld, not to destruction, but to exile. Her arm tightened some around the Echani, her left hand squeezing the cap/side of Milya's left shoulder some.

Yurb was hell all around from what she knew. Just as Nar Kreeta had been. And there was more of it to come. "I can only imagine what Yurb was like," she murmured back. She could feel the tension in Milya's shoulders, see it in her jawline as she fought back fresh tears, trying to hold onto the mask that kept the walls up. That kept out the fakes and phoneys. "I've seen some of it, but there's nothing like being there." Her voice was soft and almost airy at the moment, like a wisp of cool air. Soft and soothing in its own way. She had a coreward accent, but her word choices were a little less cultured.

Swallowing a small lump in her throat, she continued. "I haven't really spoken of it much. But I felt my grandmother die. Like she was right inside me, right in front of me. The very first time I touched the Force," she confessed softly. "And largely because of me. And since... finding the Jedi I've lost three masters." The words were gentle but direct. There was no competition. Her tone and touch, both mental and physical were only meant to demonstrate how deeply she understood the loss, the grief, the guilt, and even shame. She didn't judge. That arm tightened without restraining for just the briefest of moments. "I still feel like hitting something all the time."

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[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Silver Rest - Dorm Room
Tag: Desbre Gensan

For some reason talking to this girl felt right like she needed to do it, not because it was her and she was somehow special well not exactly that anyways. Most people told her to accept it to move on, sure maybe they had lost somebody but none of them had ever even really tried to understand her pain, or to identify with it. Of course she had not made that easy to do, in fact with some she had even been violent Yet now, now was different and she was too blind to see for the moment. Her blue eyes flicked back to Desbre for a brief moment then back to the window as if she wanted to say something but she was holding on for dear life.

When she began to truly sympathize with her Milya’s tears started to fall in earnest, she turned fully stepped toward her quickly before wrapping Des in her arms. It was a strong embrace as if Milya was now clinging to her rather than the facade that was crumbling by the second. Her voice cracked and trembled as she spoke again through the tears, her head now resting on the other woman’s shoulder, her words barely a whisper. “It was hell, when we started there were close to a couple hundred of us there.. Not Jedi but soldiers, and droids really everything that they could gather. They just kept coming..” her grip tightened slightly but she had enough sense still not to crush her, the one person in the galaxy who seemed to give a damn.

She stayed in her arms for a few minutes allowing the tears to continue unabated as she tried to convey the horrors of Yurb but in truth she said little more. She wanted to, and that was the most surprising thing to her to make her understand to make her feel what she felt but as Des spoke of her grandmother she pulled her in tighter this time she wasn’t trying to comfort herself with the hug but Des, trying through the pain to convey her own compassion to her. “I'm sorry.” The apology was not for her lack of control but for the fact Des had to share the same pain. it was really all she could manage, in the time since Yurb she had not truly allowed herself to have this moment with anyone but time and hurt and worn down her defenses and her facade could be maintained no longer.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Location: Dorms, Silver Rest, Kashyyyk​

Equipment: Over-sized thin night shirt​

Tag: Milya Vondar​

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As Milya grabbed onto her she sensed no threat but a powerful need for contact, for comfort. Touch and connection were powerful things and could do a lot to help and to heal another in ways that went beyond physical wounds. Compassion was one of the primary morals of the Jedi and she knew all too well how Milya was hurting, and how she felt. Her own arms latched around her roommate tight. "I got you," she said quietly as Milya began to pour out upon her the horror, the grief, the pain. Des let it wash over her, but none of it clung to her. She'd seen the battle footage of Yurb. Now she recalled seeing Milya here and there in glimpses. Having her here made it all the more real, and visceral. But more than that, she could feel exactly how the Echani girl felt, despite her efforts to keep up a hardened exterior. A few more tears fell as she held onto the girl.

After telling her about her own grandmother, that quiet "I'm sorry" from Milya brought forth another wave of tears even as the Echani tried to comfort her as well. It was the first time anyone had really expressed much in regards to her loss like it had been for Milya. Moar tears came even as she held on tighter. "Me too," she managed to choke out through her tears. Two little words, layered with so much meaning. She was sorry for Milya's loss, sorry that she was in so much pain. Sorry about her own loss, and the part she'd played. That she was intruding, but also that she needed someone lifting her up when she was trying to lift them up. But at the same time, knowing she wasn't alone was uplifting and validating in its own right. Sniffling softly she shook her head slightly. "It's okay," she added while combing fingers through Milya's hair and rubbing her back, working to soothe and ease her down some.

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[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Location
Equipment: Reu & Tuene
Tag: Desbre Gensan


She hated that she felt like this and that all her resistance had broken down, yet she still clung to the other girl. She had told precious few about the depth of her pain, and about how much exactly she had seen on Yurb. As Des held onto Milya she slowly began to calm the slight tremble in her body ceasing as she heard those three gentle words. “I got you” she tightened the embrace every so slightly.

It was clear finally they were both hurting, both needing this moment as she listened Des began to cry herself and pulled her in close. Milya slowly felt her control re-emerging, at the same time there was a gentle hand on her head and she relaxed into it as the hand combed through the echani girl's snowy white hair. She sighed softly though it came out more like a sad little whimper than a sigh. She was at least able to halt the flood now and pulled back slightly to look at Des, silver eyes still wet from the tears looking at her with newfound respect. Milya herself reached up a hand and touched the side of Des's face gently before wiping away her tears with her fingers.

This time she would be able to say it without bursting into tears again at least she hoped so. “I'm sorry for your loss. Thank you for caring about mine.” her voice cracked ever so slightly but Des would be able to sense the walls slowly being rebuilt in Milya’s mind.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Location: Senior padawan quarters, The Silver Rest, Kashyyyk​

Equipment: A thin, simple nightshirt​

Tag: Milya Vondar​

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Des clung to Milya. It had been a long time since anybody had cared about what she was going through. Her last master had to an extent, but she was in some ways standoff-ish and impersonal. Like she was afraid of getting too close. It made Des feel radioactive. But she was no pariah for Milya, it seemed. That alone made things ten times better, but that same comfort and support offered was a healing salve on her soul. Even if applying it hurt worse. mostly because she felt on some level she didn't deserve it, but at the same time, it was desperately needed and wanted. Anything that would help fill the cracks in her shattered spirit.

As Milya pulled back Des let her go, only to find herself face to face with her. In the dim light, Milya glowed with the warmth of life. In the lower spectrum of Des's vision she had soft red-orange glow, especially in the shadows. The hand that cradled her cheek, she fought the urge to lean into it, only to have her tears wiped away. It was a simple gesture but conveyed so much, and something noone had done in as long as she could remember.

Des leaned closer, resting her forehead against Milya's, while slipping her hand up to the back of her head, lightly running her fingers through her hair some more. "I'm sorry for your loss too. It was a few years ago. I should be over it," she murmured quietly. "But you have every right to feel the way you do." She could feel that wall starting to rebuild, starting to return. She knew that wall all too well. She wanted to tell the girl not to go, but she had no right to tell anyone what to do. Especially with a selfish motivation like hers, to not want to lose that momentary bit of connection. Reaching up she gently wiped away the remains of the last few tears from Milya. "It's going to be alright though. It wasn't your fault. Not.. like with my Grams." She bit her full lower lip for a moment.

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[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Silver Rest
Equipment: Reu & Tuene
Tag: Desbre Gensan

When Desbre Gensan pressed her forehead into MIlya's, she closed her eyes for a moment. A simple gesture, much like her hand that lingered on the other womans cheek conveyed much more than words were capable of. At the same time she felt her hand in her hair again, a soft smile touched her lips for a moment considering the topic it might even seem out of place but there was an understanding between the two of them. They were not alone in their pain and had somebody they could lean on. Milya's hand left Desbre's cheek and she gently slipped that arm around her waist and pulled her into a gentle but firm embrace leaning her head back slightly into the hand that was stroking her hair.

"I don't know your circumstances, but I sincerely doubt you are to blame either." even as Milya tried to be strong and comfort Desbre her own emotions were betraying her, the walls she was hastily building were incomplete she just as much as Des needed this moment and it was something neither of them could hide from. If either of them intended to move forward they both would need to face their trauma.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Location: Senior padawan quarters, Silver Rest, Kashyyyk​

Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, inherited lightsaber, light-filtering lenses, Hush-style comlink, aquata breather, liquid-cable launcher, stim pills, nutrient/food pack​

Tag: Milya Vondar​

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Des said nothing at first as she drew into Milya, acutely aware of her now, and how close she was. The solace offered and wrapped around the two of them was welcome. For once she didn't feel quite so alone and isolated. Vulnerable, yes. She didn't know Milya from really much of anyone else. But pain knows pain, and moreover, she was a Jedi. If nothing else Des knew that alone afforded Milya a degree of trust she might not extend to most anyone else. A kindred spirit in so many ways, Milya was no threat to that vulnerability.

"I wish I could believe that," she murmured back, "truly." The strain she'd put her Grams under, worrying over an unruly teenager had been the final blow in her already failing health. She might not have pulled the trigger, or landed a fatal blow. But she was ever so guilty all the same. Maybe if her grandmother hadn't worried so much, she might still be there. So Des didn't have all the blame, but most of it landed on her. "Maybe ... one day I.. Maybe I can let it go. But... I still played my part." It was as much reason as a confession. Des pulled back just a little, fixing Milya in her silvery gaze, a mixture of sadness and at least a little hope. Hope that Milya wouldn't run away, and hope that at some point she'd be able to accept what happened.

((So sorry for the delay.))

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[Milya Vondar]

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Location: Silver Rest
Equipment: Reu & Tuene
Tag: Desbre Gensan

It was a strange thin for Milya, this entire situation was strange for her to be so emotionally open, to trust somebody enough to even tell about her feelings. Why did she even feel she could trust her? Even the physical contact it was all foreign to her but not unwelcome that was the one thing she was sure of. When Des finally pulled back, her own silver eyes would meet Des' and she gave a soft smile and a gentle sigh. "Perhaps in time we both will find a way to move on." Milya for the first time felt no need to pull back and allowed Des to see the real MIlya, the one hidden behind the stoic echani mask.

Milya reached up and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen into Des eyes back behind her ear, her eyes lingering a moment as if realization dawned. If she did not in fact know she was Arkanian she could easily be mistaken for Echani, for some reason that thought amused her. "Feeling any better now?" as time went on she seemed to strengthen as if her earlier display was a moment of weakness yet she wasn't hiding what she felt either, now Des was her concern.