Private Eulogic Episodes: The Unchanging Ache of Things

[Aver Brand]

Aver raised her brows at the answer more. “Skeptical?” she repeated, incredulous. The meat sizzled in agreement.

ya u can quit the sass. i got enough bs to deal w/ rn

She dropped the comm on the counter and set about getting the steak from the oven to the plate. Another bottle of Whyren’s popped open as Aver poured herself a healthy accompaniment to the lunch, breathing in the amber burn.

u can find me some throwaway ppl 4 qui to drink after she wakes up, tho

An inspired sip of whisky later, Aver snapped a picture of her delicious meal and sent a third message down the line.

how could u eat this and not be fine?

 

[Rune Shamalain]

And there it was - Rune's brows lofted even higher - definitely not fine. He didn't know Aver well enough to know if the short temper was par for the course of if she was simply a victim of the stress that came with her current situation. Perhaps it was a bit of both. He decided not to take it personal.

His icy eyes blinked at the next message. Food for his sister. The man sighed - he wasn't one to dine on 'throwaway' anything. He had willing meals on call that got paid for just that. Handsomely, even. Perhaps he could gather a few of those. Two aught to be enough, but he'd bring three just in case.

On it.

Rune would readily admit he was glad for the new distraction from everything else. And for an opportunity to be of help to his sister. Someone he'd not really had many chances to get to know in his previous life. He didn't want to live another wasted opportunity.

His comm bleeped again. Blinking, he looked at the picture and immediately wanted to shoot back a reply of not enough blood.

Instead he bared his many long, sharp (longer and sharper even than Qui's) teeth and sent her a picture back of those.

 

[Aver Brand]

Hook, line, and sinker. Aver took the world’s most satisfied sip of her drink and lounged as far back as the chair would allow. (Which, it being a kitchen chair, was not a whole lot. But it’s the thought that counts.)

don’t threaten me with a good time

 

[Rune Shamalain]

The pale man blanched at her reply and promptly shoved his comm in his jacket pocket. Nope, not even going to dignify that with a response.

He'd made a point to be somewhat in the general vicinity of Coruscant for just this reason. It allowed him to be within reach should help be required, and it also gave him some opportunities to broker new business deals with old clients as well as a few new faces. A bit far for Ceto's reach in general, but not for the plans Ereza had of expanding further into the Core. The Director of Operations kept her apprised of the developments well enough to keep the Priestess happy before mentally clocking out for the evening.

The man was wearing his casual suit when he arrived at the penthouse and strode in through the gaping lift gate doors with an air of curiosity about him. He'd been in this place a few times before, a long time ago when he was quite young. After his mother had left his blood father, and after his blood father's station as Coruscant's Governor had come to an anticlimactic end. Cerusia would return here for her ventures on planet with the Capital's Archives, but they never spent much time here otherwise.

It looked just as he remembered, which gave him a sense of painful nostalgia he wasn't quite expecting.

He found Aver out in the den in the middle of ... something. Business, maybe. Rune took no issue waiting silently over by the fireplace while she finished up and spent a moment pulling a picture frame off the mantle to brush the dust from it. There was a photo of his mother with an infant, though he couldn't tell who the infant was. He set the photo back, thinking that his mother looked quite young. It must have been Des.

"She is lucky to have you here to help her," the man remarked after glancing back to see Aver looking at him.

 

[Aver Brand]

Annnnd there went what little peace she’d scraped together by pounding ferrocrete pavement at dawn. Aver screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, listening with growing dread as the feline gait of one Rune Shamalain echoed down the marbled halls of the penthouse.

She had the presence of mind to dismiss sensitive matters from her workspace before he barged into the salon, casual as anything. Straight to the fireplace, like this was a social call. And she couldn’t even pretend to be surprised that something like this would happen. Because why not, right?

Fucking around by text was one thing – invading this space— Aver forced out her breath between her teeth and met his amber gaze.

“You can tell her that yourself after she wakes up. Why are you here?” She crossed her arms and raised a single brow. “Now?”

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"She is my sister," he replied, "and this is one of my childhood homes."

If nothing else, he felt that gave him plenty of permission to be here if he so wanted. To say nothing of the fact that he'd been given a task to do and -

"Also I have brought willing meals as requested. They are put up in rooms on the lower levels of the tower until she is ready for them. And I wanted to offer," the man turned to face the displeased mercicle fully, "if you needed a break ... I can stay with her while you're out."

 

[Aver Brand]

Unfortunately for Aver, Rune actually made some fair and reasonable points. Fortunately for Rune, Aver had learned too much self-reflection not to realize in this moment that she was just looking for a victim to suffer the fallout of her frustration.

Whoever it ended up being, it wasn’t going to be pretty. But. Rune didn’t deserve that.

She licked her teeth, then collapsed her holoscreens back down to a simple tablet. “I don’t know if,” she exhaled and looked at the ceiling.

“I’m not sure she’d want you to see her like this. Since, you know…” her fingers drummed out a fast, uncomfortable rhythm against the table, “until a couple years ago, you were dead.”

And decidedly not in her life. The unspoken lingered in the grimace she offered up in lieu of a smile. This really, really wasn’t her week.

“There’s bloodwyne in the fridge if you need it. I’ll be back by eight.”

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"I don't know if ... I'm not sure she'd want you to see her like this. Since, you know … until a couple years ago, you were dead."

Woman knew how to cut it to the quick, didn't she. Rather on point, too. He wanted to be glib about it, had a remark on the tip of his tongue, decided against it and watched her take that offer of relief and run with it. Well, good. Seemed she needed it. His gaze followed her progress out of the room.

"Take your time," he said after her. Eight o' clock? Honestly woman, give yourself a break.

If he was being honest though, he wasn't sure Qui would want him here either. Yet it wasn't as if he hadn't put himself in a similar position for other women in his life before. With a deep sigh, he waited until he heard the telltale hiss of the lift gates close before he pushed off his heel to take a silent journey about his old home.

 

[Aver Brand]

The woman was going to give anyone but herself a break.

As in, broken bones.

The boxing gym she’d espied on her morning run was now the site of her efforts. Even if the efforts demanded of her weren’t particularly… exhausting. About an hour in, the disappointment was starting to pierce through the initial layer of adrenaline and sweat. Creeping into the corners of the ring like an uninvited guest, diminishing what little satisfaction she was managing to eke out of snot-nosed street trash.

Yeah, it wasn’t much.

Entirely silver still, Aver fucked off to the Cream and the Crop and its bizarrely legal gladiatorial arena, bet on herself as a no-name underdog, and chewed through the competition so fast that the crowd booed her off the sand afterwards.

She got home at a quarter to eight, and the only thing she wanted in her life now was a shower.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

It was not but an hour after Aver departed the flat that Quietus finally awoke from her drug-induced coma. Rune was in the kitchen, sitting at the hit-top bar with a datapad and a glass of blodwyne when she found him.

Rune? her voice entered his mind in the vein of her namesake, barely a whisper.

"I thought she might want a break," he replied calmly, looking up finally as he finished off a missive to the CETO HQ, "and she thought you would be hungry."

He could tell from the look on her face that she was. The strained sense of need cut an edge to her gaze that nothing else compared to. The man gave her a fleeting but understanding smile, "Are you?"

Yes, Qui admitted, looking away and tightly binding her robe around her with her arms.

"I brought willing donors."

I'm not feeding from city trash, Lysander.

"They're not city trash. I keep a retainer of donor companions. They are healthy and they know the protocol," it was nothing to be ashamed of, though he could tell Qui wasn't particularly keen on the idea. Whether due to the fact that she generally disliked feeding from people or due to the perception of her young brother having donor companions on retainer he couldn't say. "Just mind that you don't bring them harm in the process. It's not easy to find willing donors."

Right.

By the time Aver returned later in the evening, Qui had her fill of all three donors and re-established herself in her bundle of blankets before the fireplace in the den. Fresh blankets, it seemed. They didn't stink of booze or sweat or vomit. Rune was lounging on the couch off to the side, reading over a report on his datapad, and sat up as he heard the ding of the lift. Couldn't sense her in the way he could another Force User, a point of curiosity he'd meant to ask about but never quite had the right moment to do so. Instead his hyper senses picked up on the overwhelming perfume of blood, sweat, and anger the way one might smell a garbage dump from miles away or a shark might detect a drop of blood in the ocean.

He decided to let Aver do her thing and instead carefully stepped over his sister to tend to the fire and put more wood on the stack.

 

[Aver Brand]

Her steps echoed at a military tilt as she made her way across the entrance hall. Aver eased the tight lash around her mind and reached out along their connection to find Qui still sleeping, albeit sated by fresh blood and warmed by the fire. She unlocked her jaw and hung up her coat with a sigh.

After a day of slumming it in the underbelly of Coruscant, the merc looked and smelled about as good as you’d expect. Grime stuck to her like an old friend, dried blood caked under her fingernails and a few lingering bruises still dotting her flesh where attempts to put her down all fell woefully short.

There was no contending with two hundred pounds of fury and experience when it brought metal bones to bear. It was times like this she wished there were. Pain could wipe the mind like nothing else – a singular focus that burned away the detritus of emotion, concern, fear.

Ascending the steps, Aver paused in the corridor and fixed her gaze on the blond man tending to the hearth. There were a hundred questions at the tip of her tongue, most of them rude. She vacillated in the doorway until Rune was about to turn around – at which point Aver promptly marched off towards the bathroom, having said nothing at all.

Shower first, eat second, ask questions third.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

He decided that giving Aver her space and time to settle in was likely the best course of action. Aside from her stench, her current overall presence didn't sit right with him. As he moved to carefully step back over his sister he looked down to see her eyes open and watching the fire. With a somber smile he moved to crouch at her back, a hand moving to the lump in the blankets that was her shoulder, "Aver is back. I should go."

Stay until she's ready to kick you out.

"I uh - mm," Rune lowered in brow in consideration to that, "don't wish to impose any longer than I seem to have already."

Who said you were imposing?

"It was more an unspoken ..." he gave a glance to the doorway where Aver had previously vacillated, "vibe."

That's just her resting b!tch vibe. You get used to it.

Rune let his eyes roll upwards in an uncertain, relenting sigh, "Resting b!tch vibe. Of course. Well, do you need anything?"

Water.

Water he could handle. He squeezed her shoulder and stood then made his way back to the kitchen.

 

[Aver Brand]

I don’t have a resting b!tch vibe.

Aver had been eavesdropping. Of course. She’d been eavesdropping while the water whipped the film of filth off her skin, drowning out all the other sounds from the apartment. The shower dial was turned to freezing, her forehead married to the checkerboard tiles as she waited for her boiling blood to cool down.

She padded back to the salon looking nothing at all like the armored juggernaut that graced Dissero’s autographed Badass Weekly – bare feet, messy, wet hairdo, and a monogrammed, fluffy bathrobe. Aver leaned on the door jamb and took in the silhouette of her mate with a faint smile, the ice of her eyes softening in the firelight.

How are you, Des?

 

[Quietus]

Qui didn't look back. She didn't need to. A weary smile shifted over her lips for a brief moment.

You absolutely do.

She reached a hand out from beneath the blankets and let it rest on her hip, palm up, invitation open.

It's part of your appeal.

 

[Aver Brand]

Her smile blossomed into something fuller— and then she stuck out her tongue at Qui’s back. I’ll take that as “thanks babe, I’m so much better”.

Sass aside, Aver dripped her way across the expensive carpet and plopped down cross-legged next to her mate. She studied the open palm for a moment before catching it with her own, then tugged their clasped hands into her lap.

My appeal…

The merc grinned and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

… is manifold.

Then she leaned back and yelled into the kitchen, “Bring a Whyren’s bottle too!”

 

[Quietus]

She squeezed the hand that took hers.

Have you been reading again...

Manifold.

The wallowing not-Beastia blinked at the warmth on her cheek and then flinched at the yell. Aver Brand - sour then sweet? Then sour. She audibly groaned at the pang of ache in her forehead. Blood feasting hangovers were a thing, especially after feeding as much as she had.


Rune stepped in shortly after carrying a glass of water in one hand and a Whyren's bottle with a crystal tumbler in the other, "Your Whyren's, Madame." There may have been a hint of playfulness in his tone as he handed bottle and tumbler off to Aver before stepping around to Qui's other side and setting the water down within reach.

"If there is nothing else I can do for you ladies, I'll take my leave."

He wasn't want to wait to the point of being kicked out. He'd rather be proactive and leave before he overstayed his welcome. The man offered a faint but warm smile at his elder sibling when she looked up at him.

Thank you, Rune.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Aver accepted the drink with her widest grin and her best airs. “I shall never forget this favor.” She held his gaze for a moment, then gave the man a faint nod and turned around to face the fire again. Whatever they had to say to each other was for their ears only – the merc abandoned the shared conversation in favor of the warming amber in her glass.

After Rune’s footsteps echoed down the hallway and into the distance, Aver gave a light squeeze to the hand still in her own. There was no expectancy in her gaze as she found those green eyes in the shadow of the blanket, only a small smile.

You didn’t answer my question, Des.

 

[Quietus]

Never in a thousand years would Des have thought they'd be here, sitting in her old family home on Coruscant before the fire, holding hands, Aver sharing her best comforting efforts with an emotionally broken Des. Thinking back on the day they met made the contrast so incredibly stark it was like looking back on complete strangers.

Time and time again Qui found she regretted none of it. Aver had only been an improvement to her life and she was certain there was very few other people in the galaxy that could claim that.

Those pale green eyes glanced up at the warming pools of blue, What was the question?

 

[Aver Brand]

Of the many people that had the dubious honor of having met Aver Brand, Quietus was among the few that considered her an improvement to her life. Rather more often, she brought the exact opposite.

She snorted into her glass and took a sip as she gently knocked her head against Des’.

“How do you feel?”

 

[Quietus]

Failing playfulness shortly lighted on her expression as their heads knocked together. Hard-headed, the pair of them. The hiss of a deep and long sigh followed and her shoulders rounded ever more beneath her layers of blankets as though she were deflating. Qui leaned against her mate and let her head rest on Aver's shoulder.

Like butter ... scraped over too much bread. Like sand falling through fingers. Like I've missed grabbing the last branch on a long fall by an inch.

She stared at the fire, feeling all those thing and inexplicably so much more. Is there a word for that...

Wasn't usually Qui that struggled with vocabulary, and the fact she was asking after Aver Brand for a word to describe an emotion was probably something they would both laugh at years from now.