Private Day 79

[Jem Fossk]

Nida Perl
Spintir | Dawn Temple
Day 79

She was days from completing the north entrance wall. She had spent over a month stacking each stone hand by hand, for no other reason than it gave her something on. She was prone to stewing, and the days that she fell victim to it had been the worst. Today she couldn't work on the wall.

She had dropped a stone yesterday, the torso size rock had landed on her foot. It had been a hard night and harder day. She had healed back a face, yes, but it still taken time. And so she was stuck sitting on the entryway stoop, stewing as she tossed small rocks across the ground like pebbles over a water. The first sparks of homesickness were finding their way to her. She missed how it use to be.

She missed the business of it all: the tightly packed space with bodies always shuffling past-- to close for comfort and yet there was comfort to be found in never having to be alone. There was always someone up at night.

Always cereal to be eaten.

This Temple was empty cavern, yesterday she had run out of milk. She scowled at absolutely nothing and chucked a stone skittering through the gate. It almost struck the person walking through there.

Almost.

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida had two sisters. Two loud, obnoxious sisters. Rarely were they hostile with her, but with eachother? Oh boy.

She'd developed an instinct—perhaps it was a Jedi's danger sense—early on to avoid crossfire. It kept the lipgloss container, aimed at Kyra, from smacking her square in the face. It kept the vegetables, rejected by her baby sister, from making a mess of her hair. It had saved her skin, even her life. Deathblows from a saber became glancing, bolts meant to singe and pierce were narrowly dodged.

A stone that would have skittered into her ankle bone was sidestepped. Nida looked to the sulking Firrerreo at the steps, all tall, lean muscle and subtly feral features. Wide violet eyes appraised her with a practiced yet criticize gentleness; as if this girl was one of her patients. But she was not.

Stopped at the gate, Nida pulled a jug from the bag she'd been carrying, raising it up enough for the other woman to see the cream sloshing around.

"I've brought you some milk."

Among other things. A few supplies to keep her in good spirits while she heals. The Zeltron's bland garb stood out against the vivid features of her hair and skin, a strange contrast for the normally festive species. A plain tunic and trousers marked her as a vague traveler. A clean traveler.

Nida had spent months at Dawn directly after her release from Sunspot prison. They'd help her regain a sense of control and clarity over herself, though she began to suspect that her healing had reached a plateau. Or at least, a very slow curve. Even after being declared well enough to return to society, she still liked to stop by from time to time. It helped her to refocus on her path.

"I hope that's alright. I can put these here and leave, if that is easier for you."

Jem Fossk

 

[Jem Fossk]

Jem stared and tried to make sense of the familiar pink face. Did she know her? No... But it felt like it. She glanced over her shoulder, hopeful for the appearance of Valery or the Warden, either of which could make sense of the stranger, but neither appeared.

Jem watched as she lowered the bag and started to back away. "...No wait" She sighed and gestured for the stranger to come in. "It's fine. I don't bite anymore. ...Much," she added, rolling her eyes as she dropped the rest of the rocks out of her hand. "How'd you know about the milk?"

She gave the stranger a weary look over and tried to heave herself up. Her braced foot ached in protest, but it wasn't hard to get one crutch under her arm pit, then another. It wasn't uncommon for Valery to welcome others here. She felt the exposure would help Jem, but Jem was starting to feel like a petting zoo.

Minus the petting.

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida had been lowering the bag of groceries to the ground when Jem struggled to her feet. From her angle, she hadn't seen the foot brace or crutch. The bag dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and Nida descended on the injured woman whether she liked it or not.

"Please—don't strain yourself."

The Zeltron's hands found their way to the woman's torso and underarms, welcome or not. "You should sit." The gentle lit of her stern voice made it clear that this was more of a command than a suggestion.

"What happened? Do the healers visit you regularly?" Once the patient was steady, standing or sitting, she'd begin analyzing the cast around her foot.

Jem Fossk

 

[Jem Fossk]

Jem huffed, overwhelmed by the sudden hands and commands and concern. Blah.

"What? No-- I'm fine. I just crushed it--it'll be healed by tomorrow. Fierroro," she clarified, gesturing to her gray, colorless skin. ...ah.

"We're not always gold." She cleared her throat, and shuffled uncomfortably on the stoop between them. They were uncomfortably close; the familiarity of it itched at the back of her mind. She frowned and looked closer.

"Do I know you?"

 

[Nida Perl]

"Oh."

As the girl balked, Nida pulled her hands back. Normally patient and cautious, medic modewas swift to take over the Zeltron.

"Sorry," She smiled apologetically. Fierroro? She didn't quite look…well, sort of.

"Of course." Nida conceded before tucking a strand of violet behind her ear and sitting back. She hesitated to ask if the girl's injury needed soothing, but decided against that particular line of questioning.

"Do I know you?"

Benign words struck through her like lightning, suddenly and without warning. Do I know you? Does she know her? Has she seen her face? From the tapes, from staring across the battlefield? From the trial?

Nida stiffened, then looked wholly at the other woman, analyzing the sharp curve of her jaw and cheekbones. Fortunately, she didn't recognize her.

"I've heard that Zeltrons look a little familiar to everyone." Musing softly, she relaxed her posture a few degrees. "I'm Nida."

Jem Fossk

 

[Jem Fossk]

Jem grimaced.

"I guess you already know who I am." She assumed. Who didn't buy this point? The notoriety was not a welcomed one, but there was something exciting about the story of a daughter switching sides and dying to betray her own father. It had been the twist of the whole war.

The truth was rarely that simple, or accurate to boot. Jem pulled the bag of groceries over to herself, very much alive as she picked through.

"Wow, Spacios?" She commented, pulling out the brand of cereal Yula had turned her onto. It wasn't common, but it was by far her favorite. She pulled it onto her lap possessively, not realize that Nida intended to stay as a ward here too.

"Thank you." She continued to rummage, the goods clearly the highlight of her week.

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida gave her a sympathetic smile. She'd only gotten the highlights, but it seemed they weren't too different. With the exception of Jem actually managing to kill her father, something that Nida had not attempted nor would she be able to accomplish. "Jem, right?"

A violet brow cocked at the mention of cereal. "You like Spacios?" It wasn't too popular, but had been a staple in the Perl household. "It's my favorite."

Joza always bought the bulk pack, muttering something about how all these kids want to eat is damn Spacios.

"I hope that you don't mind me being here." She tried in a gentle tone, uncertain to where Jem's head was. "I come here from time to time to help keep myself centered. If my presence is…troubling, I can move on to another part of the temple." Though Nida was stable, she did not want to interfere with someone else's time here.

"And, you can keep the cereal." A bit of humor threaded into her otherwise steady tone.

Jem Fossk

 

[Jem Fossk]

Jem shook her head, dismissive. "I'm ok." For a large part, she was. She blinked at the truth of her words and sat in a stunned silence, doing little to reassure Nida of her own stability. She seemed to realize this a moment later and cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing red as she pushed back the back of stolen goods.

"Oh, sorry, I-ah- I didn't realize you were actually going to stay here." The implication reached her on a delayed timer. She blinked again and back tracked further. "Wait. You come here?" Red eyes scanned Nida with more intent, picking apart the features for a sign of darkness or struggle.

 

[Nida Perl]

"Oh. Yes," Nida blinked, slowly. Had she been mistaken for a temple care-taker? Wouldn't be the first time that the demure, plainly clothed Zeltron was asked to restock soap. "I was a resident here for a period of time. It was the safest place for me after my release from prison."

Jem Fossk

 

[Jem Fossk]

Jem blinked, her features turning to unreadable stone. Inside she was a swath of chaotic emotions-- relieved, curious, wary, self-conscious. Words jumped to the tip of her tongue but she withheld them all, afraid she would get answers she didn't want to face.

But 79 days in-- this was her life now. Maybe it... maybe it was better that she did know. Maybe she could handle them. She certainly was expected to, anyway.

She licked her lips, her mouth dry as she dared to ask. "Did it work?"

 

[Nida Perl]

"Oh, yes."

Idly rubbing a thin lock of violet hair between her thumb and forefinger, Nida did not hesitate to answer. "Undoubtedly. But it's…hmm." Tilting her head back, she peered up at the building's ridge. "It was one of many things that helped. Prison gave me time to reflect. The temple helped me reconnect to both myself and the galaxy."

Somewhat, at least. Nida did not feel normal as she was before, but she did feel safe. No immediate threat of suddenly shifting into a killer.

"Though, I am not the same person that I was before. I don't think that I was meant to be."

She exhaled briefly, a little sigh, before turning to Jem with a sympathetic smile.

"It took me some time to realize how much it had helped, though."

Jem Fossk