Full Circle

[Darth Empyrean]

He grinned in response to her slight tease, his own teasing at least taking his mind off the pain that ached through the entirety of his body. With spine rigid, he readjusted to lay on his back; letting his eyes trace what shapes stood out on the ceiling above them. For some time he was quiet, simply enjoying the pleasant comfort of being safe for the first time in weeks.

“I suppose I don’t.”, he said.

John.

It was the second name he’d been given; the first being Tai from Velok. Neither were exactly his favorite, but at the same time neither of those who gave him his name at all disgraced him in any way. Although he didn’t feel he deserved a name, at the very least he’d let them call him what they wish. Yet, John, it seemed oddly familiar; perhaps because of its generic nature, perhaps because he simply forgot in part the night they first met.

It could be a mixture of both in truth.

“A little late now, but I wish I stayed with you that night.”

He offered her a glance from the corner of his eye, but his tone was a mixture of tones; one dominating and teasing, but a slight remorse in its underlying message. As if he didn’t want to admit how much he regretted leaving her, perhaps for himself in its entirety.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

“A little late now, but I wish I stayed with you that night.”

Her heart thumped once before sinking into the depths of her stomach. Now that she’d had time to wrap her head around the situation, she realized that [member="The Slave"] was taken from Blush. Darted in her lap like a sick animal by the scruffy looking bounty hunter she’d had the displeasure of dealing with on more than once occasion now. And all she did was scowl as the silver haired man slipped off her lap, turning on her heel as Sal dragged his prize away.

“I know.”

It was easy to turn like that when you didn’t think about the consequences. She wasn’t the one getting captured, so why should she care? Joza didn’t know him beyond some pleasant touching. They were likely expendable in eachother’s eyes, at least to an extent.

Confronted with the aftermath though, guilt ate away at her, edging into her eyes. She hated to be the cause—or at least to take part in—someone’s suffering like this.

“What did you do?”

Her voice was light and gently inquiring. He’d understand, she hoped, that she was asking why he’d been captured in the first place—was he a criminal? A terrorist? Maybe she only asked to try and absolve herself of some guilt.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“To him?”, he said with a shake of his head.

He clenched his hand at the thought, letting the idea pass through his mind before relaxing the muscles and letting the blood flow back through his body. It came with a slight exhale, with almost every bodily function he held being magnified by his weakened state; it seemed he could hear the blood pass through his veins, but there was a nagging thought that he wish it would stop. If he’d of died on that crucifix, he wouldn’t need to explain this.

“Nothing. I was wanted for… supposed connections. To The Primeval.”

With those words, he turned away from her once more; like a child ashamed of his actions. Was he actually apart of them? Perhaps, but his actions spoke more than his words. With every little hesitance in his speech, the lack of pride, of confidence seemed to utter with every expression he offered her; likely a byproduct of his near death experience. He needed to recover before he could be the man she met, and the man he prefered himself to be.

“I’ve no clue why he wanted me.”

But he knew. He knew he was a criminal with thousands on his head already; the cause of untold destruction. It didn’t matter if Ignus himself had a right to punish him, it was simply the fact that it was a far too late lashing he deserved years before, for every semblance of weakness he ever showed; for every instance he let himself slip deeper into the darkness that this was. His body crumpled into a fetal position, shivering slightly as his body fought to stay warm, emaciated muscles doing little in terms of warmth.

“I just… don’t know…”, he said between shivers.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

Nothing. Nothing directly to this Ignus, but having connections to a supposed enemy was enough to get you dragged into messes that weren’t your own. It was enough to be an object of hate, a canvas to expel your feelings onto.

Something stirred in her as she looked down at him, a wave of maternal empathy followed shortly by a nagging pain of wariness. Her kind was easily manipulated by a show of distress, but paranoia and anxiety had a tight grip on the Zeltron, keeping her alive and on her toes. Kept the rings around her eyes and the suspicion in the back of her mind too. Occasionally she wondered if her blood was really diluted that much, or if the wires in her head just weren’t connecting right.

Either way her hand continued its slow, rhythmic stroke through his hair as she stared off into space.

He knew. She knew that he knew. Not specifics of course, but it would be difficult to hide something like that from a meticulous empath, especially in his state. Joza wasn’t interested in pressing it.

“People can be cruel.” She murmured, sounding a bit far away. Her fingers continued to weave through pale locks. “Sometimes they’re so burned up inside that they push all of their hate and anger onto someone else. Try to take away what makes them alive and turn them just as miserable.” A pause as an overwhelming silence rushed between them.

“Those people are cowards.” Creators of discord, agony and suffering. “Or the mentally ill.”

Her hand stopped, clenching into his hair suddenly—not enough to hurt, but enough of a pull that he’d feel it. Her lips parted, whispered words shaking slightly on a shuddered breath. “Don’t let them turn you into a coward.”

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave stirred slightly at her words, building a slight anger in his stomach and a growl in his throat as he spoke.

“I’m not a coward.”

And for the moment, that's all he said. It was obvious that despite the self doubt and pain he was going through, he was still as fiery as ever; perhaps the only thing that kept him going. He was a machine meant for progress, ambition with no direction, and while he was weakened and battered with the worse of them; there was no way he would simply lay down and die. To run was to show weakness, to open himself to the side of himself he refused to acknowledge; forever utilizing righteous fury to bury it deeper and deeper in his psyche. It was moment like these that many would mind what he might have become if it weren’t for his horrid upbringing.

Then he spoke, words that betrayed the strength he just showed as he turned back to face her; looking up with corrupted eyes that plead with heartstrings that he couldn’t quite see.

“Why take me in? You don’t owe me anything, Joza.”

“I’m worthless, and you’re spending far too much keeping me alive. You should’ve let me alone.”, he said, his somber tone turning something more fierce, no matter how confusing his tone seemed.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

The beast stirred, fire in his veins as he lifted his head to her. There was anger in his inquiry though the heat of his words were not directed at her—not in the way unbridled rage would. He questioned her motives, her reasoning, casting his own self-worth to the side.

Her hand paused during this, fingers steadying as they remained threaded through silver locks. It had seemed that she touched a nerve, some raw exposed end in him that sent a jolt to his system. Green eyes peered down into sulfuric amber, silent and observing as they shifted ever so slightly over his face. Taking in the details, the little fury lines, how goddamn alive he looked in this moment.

“Ties to the Primeval, owner of that massive beast of a ship.” One corner of her mouth tiled up. “Maybe you’re my new bargaining chip.”

Pink fingers twitched slightly before they started moving again in a slow, rhythmic stroke. Joza never broke eye contact, staring back into that corrupted gaze with an unwavering curiosity.

There wasn't anything bigger at play here. She was exactly the type of bleeding heart he'd probably come to expect her to be from their brief meeting.

Bleeding and vicious and violent.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As her fingers played delicately against his scalp, he couldn’t help but lean against it slightly. Perhaps it was a lost maternal need for comfort, perhaps it was because he liked the way she felt, but he couldn’t help but feel a small sensation of tension between them. Ego led his mind astray as he broke a sly grin, averting his gaze down as a hand moved to hold the back of the one that held his head.

“A bargaining chip, huh?”, he said before looking back up to her eyes, smile still plastered on his face.

“And how exactly do you think you’d convince me to just go along with this?”, he said with the same auspiciously coquettish tone.

While the look of the fury in his eyes perhaps brought some interest to her own mind, they were passive. Not because he was not an angry individual, but because there was a point to not focus on it no matter what situation he was in. The rage that was once a sulphuric inferno in his eyes had cooled almost instantly to the soft hues of a smoldering passion; something she likely saw more than a few times in others.

It was the mark of a man unstable in his own right, but one in control. Perhaps not in the path they took, but in how they acted in it. There was no hiding he was a stray bullet forever destined to crash and kill whatever it met, but to think that he had such a grasp on holding in him the emotions that often fueled sith made him the ever curious oddity.


Leave alone how quickly he shifted from anger to flirting.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

It was good to see that he hadn’t been torn to shreds. There was still something left intact, even if it was a front. Something to hide your fear and pain behind.

Who didn’t do that nowadays anyway?

“Convince?” She tisked, pursing her lips in a sort of mock disappointment. “Who said anything about needing to convince you?”

Her other hand came up, pushing its way through short ashen locks in appreciation for a moment. “You’re my prisoner, are you not? Too weak to walk out of here on your own.”

Granted, she had no intention to keep him here should he wish to leave. Maybe he knew that, maybe he thought she was playing mind games. Sometimes the two bled into each other without much doing.

With a fond smile, she looked down at him. “Suppose I should put you to work at some point. Janitorial staff would be a good fit.”

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Too weak, she said. Janitorial staff she said.

The thought of challenging such assumptions proved to widen his grin, bringing a hand to cradle the back of her neck and pull her close for a moment. In it, he seemed to wetten his lips, drag them up her neck and stop near her ear; something familiar. He’d done the exact same thing back on their first meeting; all followed by a sultry whisper.

“If it's cleaning you want me to do, I could always start with you.”

An exhale, a small chuckle, and then it hit him just how weak he actually was. His head began to spin as his heart rate attempted to raise; each beat forcing his muscles to quake in micro expressions of exhaustion, forcing him to let go of her and fall back to his laying position. A soft groan from his throat left him silent with his eyes closed as he forced himself to recover as fast as he could.

So much for challenging her words.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

She couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the quip, a genuine and good natured gesture. Not so much the flirting, moreso at his exhaustion afterwards.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’ll be a good week or few before you’ll be up to the challenge.” She wasn’t making fun of him, her tone betraying some sort of fondness she held for…him? The situation at hand? The road to recovery would be long, but he had youth and the Force on his side. Those two factors alone would get him pretty far.

“Anyway, you’re free to leave after I barter you off for a new pair of shoes.” She shifted so that she was leaning back a little in a less strained position. “Probably something high end.”

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

He offered her little more than a groan, a mixture of annoyance and acknowledgement of her teasing. With mind still spinning, he didn’t quite want to open his eyes to bear witness to the light just yet; enjoying the comfort of darkness for a few moments longer while he got his bearings. As it finally passed, he decided to respond;

“Only a pair of shoes? I bet I could fetch more than that.”, he chuckled; not truly understanding just yet who much people would be willing to pay for him.

As his laugh came to a slow halt, he offered her his glance once more as he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand; as he spoke he let each word slip through his lips like velvet, or the morning sun through stained glass, a tone that seemed more in tune with just who he seemed to portray himself as.

“Joza, what is it you do? You really don’t strike me as a conventional business owner, if I’m honest. I’ve simply met a few in my time and…”, he said for a few moments before trailing off.

Eventually his words came back to him, his diverged attention brought full bore back to her own emerald green eyes.

“... Well, they weren’t you.”

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

“A really really nice pair of shoes.” Her tone was a mock attempt to be convincing.

She watched him with an idle carefulness, hand slipping through silver locks and coming to rest on top of her thigh. Her eyes rolled upwards in thought for a few moments followed by a soft hum.

“I work with the Outer Rim Coalition. Scoundrels, smugglers and all that. My type of people.” The kind she used to run with as a kid, the kid she was supposed to outgrow. But a monastic lifestyle didn’t cut it, and she ended up with the scrappy do-gooders who stole ships from those who wouldn’t miss them (or so they said) and modified them to suit their needs.

Here, she had some measure of power. Her business continued to expand, bleeding from the Core to the Outer Rim as her influence grew. She was remarkably transparent with her finances given that she ran multiple humanitarian projects alongside adult entertainment—of course this was to ensure that nobody could come after her for profiting off of her own charities. She could have made a larger salary if she’d done so, but to her it wasn’t worth it. Most of her operations were unremarkable in their execution so as to let her sneak under the radar. Joza wasn’t doing anything illegal, but she didn’t want to become a target.

Her goddamn heart and soul went into this.

“What do I strike you as?” There was a tilt of amusement in her voice as she gave him a soft smile. Genuine but muted.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“In truth?”, he began, a brow cocking as if she perhaps didn’t understand what he meant.

“In truth, Joza, you strike me as a liar.”

For a second he kept his eye contact, a slight fierceness in his expression as the corruption they held washed over her facial features soft curves. He seemed rigid as he spoke, a slight tenacity to his tone with each passing syllable that echoed in the room before settling somewhere distant. It seemed far longer than it was, but he spoke once more to clear the air;

“When we first met, I couldn’t read you. I remember that. You were such a mystery… Something I had to figure out.”

“And yet, now I think I know why. I can’t read you, because what I see isn’t real. An act, perhaps even one you believe.”

His intensity never faded, the heat of his gaze pressing deeper into before any tension was broken by a slight curve of his smile. A finger idly moved to scratch at some slight buildup of scruff on his chin before he shook his head, taking a moment to laugh before speaking;

“Or I’m out of touch. I did just spend a few weeks strapped to metal in the sun.”

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

Her eyes remained focused on him as he spoke, expression passively curious yet unyielding in the face of his passion. What surprised her most was the tenacious spark about him, not just in his eyes or the curve of his mouth. It was everywhere. It was how he carried himself, how he moved and spoke.

It reminded her of herself a handful of years back, headstrong and still learning about the galaxy. Vicious and passionate to a fault, but those traits were locked away only to seep out and bleed through in the oddest ways. There were things about Joza that didn’t quite add up, inconsistencies that she was slowly recognizing.

As he finished she cupped his chin in the valley between her thumb and forefinger with a firm yet gentle grasp, leaning forward to press her lips against the side of his temple.

“I used to be a Jedi,” She muttered in a breath that seeped into his skin, heat and all.

Joza pulled away slowly, one corner of her lips twitching upwards in a ghost of a smile.

“Guess why that didn’t work out.”

There was a genuine nature to most things she did but it was hampered by her own anxieties. The occasional far off gaze, the hardening of facial features and the gentle smile turned wicked were little notations of her past that dictated the way she held herself.

Not a falter, but a warning.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Is that rhetorical?”, he asked rhetorically.

He felt the warmness of her kiss against his temple, and for the first time he felt her express some form of affection in the entire few hours they’ve known each other. Other than the ones he went out of his way to cause; what being a sexually driven deviant and what not. The thought tickled it, if only slightly, and a hand moved idly to rest fingers against the spot as he began to speak again.

“If you’re not a Jedi now, what are you?”

Readjusting in the bed, he pulled a blanket closer around him; like a child preparing for a bedtime story. It was obvious he couldn’t produce enough body heat to stay comfortable, so instead he simply let the fabric that covered him do the work instead; letting his head rest softly against the cushioned pillow while wild eyes watched her every movement. The corruption they held, the malignant energy he carried, all betrayed by a few childish expressions he likely didn’t notice.

The innocence of a young man that never grew up, perhaps.

“And, what happened?”, he said not entirely aware that it might be rude to ask. The audacity he carried was something many had faced, some respected, and many more hated. Yet today it was not the audacity of a ravaging psychopath, but the behavior of simply not knowing better perhaps.

As firey of a person he could be, he always seemed to slip back into these moments of regression. A betrayal of the danger he truly posed to those who got to close to him; a poison flavored like strawberry all made manifest in an silver haired stranger with a crooked grin.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

What are you?

Her gaze drifted over him, above his shoulder as her eyes unfocused in thought. What exactly was she? Joza had never given it much thought, preferring to lose herself in her work rather than answer the hard questions. The thing was, the minute she slapped a label on herself like that she’d feel pressured to tick all of the boxes on some proverbial list.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shrugged, a gentle rise and fall of her shoulders. There was no good answer to that question, nothing that would satisfy them both. “There are just as many who pledge themselves to a code as there are who go their own way.” Most of those she would call her friends didn’t swing too heavily to one side or the other. They forged their own paths and served their own directives.

She was hardly an anomaly. Her story was a fairly common one, her journey more private than most but it had fallen into the shadows unnoticed.

Lithe pink fingers wove their way into silver strands, pushing the hair back and away from his face in an almost maternal gesture. She stared at him for a few moments, eyes searching for something and lips parted slightly.

“I didn’t work out.” Her thumb traced the crown of his hair. “So I took my leave to pursue my own interests. They didn’t seem to mind. Or notice.” Her lips curved into a small almost tired smile.

“Do you think that they would have come after me if I threw a fit and cursed their name, conspiring to destroy the light and lashing out against anyone who carried a blue saber?”

She liked her peace in that sense.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“I think they might have, but I suppose I don’t know Jedi.”

He shrugged with a passive ignorance to his words, simply leaning into her hand as it wandered gracefully over his skin. And enigmatic expression always seemed to carry itself with his every movement, perhaps built from years of repressing just who he was from everyone around him. If not that, to hide the displeasure of a new master time and time again.

“All I know is people hunt what they lose.”

One of his hands moved to brush against his less than full legs, idly wandering around their lithe form as he considered just how he’d get his strength back. He was never the largest, nor the strongest, but to say he was more than what he was now would be an understatement. No matter how much he might not think about it, he was a weapon crafted over years of hard labor and torture; something immune to pain of the physical sense, taut and muscular for combat, and built strong for a coming war. One that never seemed to come, he supposed.

“Joza, what do you think of me?”, he said idly, bringing his gaze back up to hers. As emerald eyes met molten gold; there was a danger in them she knew all too well.

His question seemed to prod at her, test just what she might say. Every second with him seemed to be a crucible of how relaxed she might be, what second she might slip up at; and no matter her experience with the worst of the galaxy, he was a danger that was altogether different than the rest. He wasn’t a titan of battle, nor a sorcerer hell bent on annihilation, but a simple child that threatened her sanity; every inhibition she had set for herself, every chaste choice, every resolution she held herself to.

He was sin, and she was a sinner. All it took was a slight push.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza nodded.

“That, or they cut their losses.”

A quick examination of his body—the bruises, the scarring probably as old as he was—told her that he typically wasn’t a loss to be cut.

“You.” She hummed softly in thought, finger tapping once against his temple as her eyes drifted up to the ceiling as if she’d find the answer there. “Remind me of the sky right before it storms.”

The comparison was too poetic and pretentious for her, but it was the only accurate descriptor she could come up with right now.

Still, she continued. “When there are clouds on the horizon, you know it’s going to rain but you can’t tell how badly.” Barring the weather app everyone had on their datapad, but that was beside the point. “You don’t know until it hits if it’s going to be a steady rain or a violent storm.” One hand brushed back his hair again and she found herself smiling at him.

“You’re a cheeky brat, but I like you. You never really had a childhood though, did you?”

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

He grinned wildly, bearing surprisingly whitened teeth for the somewhat obvious lack of care he took of himself. With it however, he readjusted to hold her hand between his and his head; letting the weight of it sandwich her digits near the pillow. His eyes closed slow before he spoke,

“A storm? That’s silly.”

Once more, he adjusted the blankets that held the warmth to his skin.

“And no, I suppose I didn’t. Don’t think I missed much either.”, he said with a slightly lazy shrug.

In truth, he didn’t want to have a childhood. Not his, nor another one; all because of just how his went. The death, the torture, the absolute carnage that came with his genesis was something too hard to bear, and although his tone and mind seemed at peace at the thought of not having a childhood, deep in his heart and soul he knew just how painful it would be to come to terms with what happened.

No, he didn’t miss much. Forget the past, and you’ll always live in the present.

│ [member="Joza Perl"] │

 

[Joza Perl]

She watched as he trapped her hand between his head and the pillow with a fond twinkle in her eyes.

“You’re silly.”

That was all she would counter with, good natured humor lacing her tone.

His next statement caused her to fall silent once more.

“Guess you can’t miss what you’ve never had, huh?” But she didn’t think that was true. You’d always be on the outside looking in, curious, envious, even angry. It was never one solid emotion, it was a flurry of different feelings that was altogether hard to pin down.

Her fingers wriggled from behind his head, nails scratching in a gentle motion behind his ear meant to be soothing. “You should sleep. I can give you something to help.” She paused, realizing how that may have sounded. “No sedatives. Just something to make sleep come easier.”

[member="The Slave"]