Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private How the Devil Got Her Horns


Siren

It wasn't always so easy to find someone to lean on, and it perhaps never would have been if not for the will of the Sith. A mother dead, a mother slain, a daughter woken, born, from the fire of hate - how could she, they, ve, ever understand what it meant to be loved if their mother was dead, if their father struggled in the cold grip of loss? The first moments Vesta Zambrano felt upon existing were not those that anyone should experience first - aside from all of the confusion that came with being created rather than born, Vesta did not know wonder, did not experience unity, harmony, or love. Sure, Braxus made sure that his closest kin knew that he cared for his offspring like he would have if his partner had survived the process that breathed life into that hellspawn, but the first touch on the skin of that Shi'ido was not the warming caress of a mother and a father together to welcome their child into this world.

No.

The first sensation that Vesta felt was cold.

In the days of therapy and learning, flash-aging experience into their mind so they could coexist with the society beyond the walls of their home on Maena, Vesta came to understand why it was that they only had one parent, why their mother never showed her face. Could a child of such unique circumstances, if one could even call them a child or even offspring at this point, process the understanding that their mother had passed from this reality at the same time as that child had came into it? In a war where one side proclaimed to fight against the injustice of a heavy crown, where was their justice for her? The fire that burned in that child's soul was hotter than the flames of the deepest pit of the Seven Corellian Hells, and yet the blood that moved through their veins was colder than the iciest river which crossed through the glacial frosts of the Netherworld.

Never had a child been so shaped, so molded, by such an emotive "birth", a birth that was made by the literal sacrifice from their parents to create them from the fickle waves of the force itself, as was Vesta. It was this passion that spurred them on, this passion that kept them from giving up in the same grief that swallowed their father. Passionate hate, a burning desire for revenge, to make right the pain from the gaping, bottomless, pit that had been carved into their heart. Nothing could fill that void, nothing could replace the mother they never knew - not their father, not the entire galaxy and every star within it. The only thing that mattered to this single-minded Shi'ido was to take from this world something equal to what had been taken from them.

It wasn't long before the spies, spies bought for their father, told the daughter bits and scraps of information regarding the family of that daughter's killer - a killer that, too, had ceased to be, though that poetic balance was lost on their injured psyche. Like Vesta, the queen of Eshan had a daughter - though, unlike Vesta, perhaps poetically so, this daughter had not been born from a ritual that set her in her prime so early. The Zambrano? Lacking the experience of a true master, instead that angered child carried raw power and a talent to make use of it. A blade felt familiar in that daughter's hand, and it found purchase in the chest of every last Echani captured during the war effort that Braxus could have gotten his hands on for his vengeful daughter.

It wasn't long, then, that Vesta found themselves, quite literally, in the shadows of that princess' bedchambers as night sunk in and the light drew dim. Watching, waiting, for that other daughter to walk on in.


Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin
 

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//: I wish you here with me //:
//: Hailyn Hailyn //:
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Walking the long hallway towards her bedroom, she didn’t feel the need to turn on the lights. The small ceremony that she had attended for her mother felt unreal. The woman that she had thought would never stop nagging her to slow down and enjoy life would ever be gone. The ambitious youngest child of Spencer Varanin was always on the go wanting to outdo her brother and eldest sister. She wanted to prove to their ‘Papa’ that she was worth the Varanin name, to have stories when the woman returned home to Mama. Quinn remembered when Papa stopped coming back, there were no more stories, and Mama was alone.
Quinn felt her legs heavy as she rounded the corner towards her room. They weren’t able to find a body, her mother had died fighting taking her opponent with her, but there was nothing to burn but her favorite dress and a few pictures. Her other siblings hadn’t come either, but she didn’t expect them to show up, they all had their own lives. Unlike Errant and Ibaris, Quinn was the product of the love between the Former Empress of the Sith and the Former Queen of Eshan. She was their true heir, and she took it upon herself to take care of things with her mother’s passing. Still, when she closed her eyes, she could hear the woman’s voice laughing at the stories the young Echani would tell about school. She could again feel the warmth of the hugs she would get when things didn’t go her way or when she cried, missing Papa.
All Quinn was left with now, was herself and stories. Those stories didn’t provide warmth or love; they were just reminders of a better time. She was without Papa and Mama now, who could she go to? Ibaris? No, she was too busy with the boy that held her on the highest pedestal. Errant? No, he was too busy chasing the ghost of his father. There was no one for the young Varanin, but she was okay. The cold metal of the knob to her door shocked her as she frowned, not even the door was warm to her. Twisting it, she entered the room and walked in, the darkness greeted her, and she sighed softly.
Tears found their way to her eyes and flowed down her pale cheeks. The moonlight was her only friend. Through the Force, she shut the door and locked it. The entire service she avoided tears, she could hear the attendants calling her brave and how she looked like her mother, regal, strong, and courageous. Quinn didn’t feel like any of that. Arms wrapped around her slender frame, the simple black dress’ fabric gripped tight by her hands as she broke down. Deep and raw cries of emotional turmoil shook the girl as she collapsed to her knees and shook. She never felt this alone, even when she knew she wasn’t, she still had her friends at school - but now she had no one close to her.
“Mama, why? Why did you do this?”
 
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Curl Up and Die

It could have been worse.

They told her.

You could have known her.

They said.

Be glad you weren't so attached that it broke you in the end.

In the end.

It's hard to breath here, in the narrow passage that is that child's throat - when life, the force, reality, this galaxy, has its heel pushing down hard with a determination to make it all end. It was a struggle for Vesta to move, harder still to for them to do it without shouting out with rage. This privileged child, a daughter just like she - a daughter, a real daughter, not some freak that couldn't bring themselves to terms with being anything but everything and yet nothing - could mourn the loss of her parent, could have grown to know her, to cherish her, to remember her. Vesta's father's servants, and even the man himself, had tried to assure her that it was better not to have known, not to have experienced what he - what they - had with what had been stolen from her - from them - before that child could see.

So blind with rage, with anger, with vengeful hate, that when the darkness gave way - melting off of the skin-changer like wax from a candle - it was only then that Vesta realized where they were, and more importantly who it was that they were standing over. Beneath her, in front of her, was the writhing form of someone in a pain as real as theirs - and yet different, wholly so, as different as the sharp sting of a cut and the dull ache of a fractured rib. The girl spoke as the dagger raised high, questioning out loud accusingly as light was caught along its narrow blade. Then...

Hesitation.

Blind, blind with rage, indeed. The blade never moved down as sight became clear and the angel shedding tears became all that her would-be assassin could see. The pain was still there, and the hole in Vesta's heart was still as endless as it had been from the moment they first woke, but there was something else inside them now, something in a place that they'd never felt. Regret? Perhaps, they couldn't understand it though. Conflict, certainly, emerged with it - but it was not the center of what was felt. As was coming to terms with whether they were a woman or a man, or something in between, or even altogether different, the conflicting nature of this sensation was not the true feeling - it was not confusion, though confusion was present as a result of its arrival.

The dagger fell from their grip as they lunged for her - body shifting, changing, rapidly with such speed that it mirrored their anxiety - and small pale hands moved to wrap themselves around that other daughter's throat, to feel what that girl's mother must have felt in the final moments of this daughter's mother's life. A grip tightened, but then it released - there was a warm dampness on their cheeks, not just on the crying girl's face but on Vesta's own. The shapeshifter had rarely uttered a word to anyone but their father, and their voice had become rarer as the dysphoria had set in their mind, but it was unmistakable that the words uttered came from their lips.

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The voice was small, but it was sharp - it cut through the tears, through the air, through the sobs and pierced its orator through the heart with pain anew. To hear themselves, in this face, this body that was supposed to be in the image of their parents, was like raking knives across their wrists - to see themselves was like looking at someone who didn't exist. But here, now, Vesta very much wanted to be, but not for her, rather for the girl that seemed as angry with her own mother as Vesta was - only that Vesta now realized it wasn't even the other daughter, or her dead mother, that could have given them what they wanted. Nothing could bring back their mother, nothing could give them what had been taken from them, and worst of all that it had been their own mother's fault that she was dead just as much as it had been Spencer's.

Perhaps more so.

"I'm sorry." The voice begged, a hoarse whimper - as if an apology, directed at seemingly no one, though in the mind of its orator to the force, could suffice to do the impossible. Blurry vision cleared to look at the stranger, that other girl, the real girl, and knew that this was the pain she felt, this realization of finality setting in was what made it so sharp. If life itself wasn't so confusing for the Shi'ido, then panic would have set in - they would have realized their failure, their inability to murder someone so vulnerable because of their own shortcomings, their own vulnerabilities.

It was, perhaps, in that recognition of what they felt which kept that panic at bay, because the reason the knife had dropped, why their fingers couldn't hold their grip, was because of the temptations of the feeling that they had wanted to fill that void within. Born without love, and smitten by this crying girl in the deepest throes of irony the galaxy could put her in.

Love is blind.

They say.

Love is cruel, however, were the words Vesta could now live by. A moment longer of blind rage, a mere change in method, and there would have been no confused face to stare into, no failure to find relief in. No assassination to salvage and change into something new. For one that hated so strongly, so intently, so instinctively and implicitly, Vesta fell harder and faster at first real sight than any third-rate romance pairing could have dreamed for.

Yes, they were sorry - sorry that they had even made an attempt on that girls life, sorry that they had been born and betrayed their father's pain like this.

Sorry that they just wanted all of that hurt to go away - for the two of them, for both daughters that lost their mothers.

And sorry that they met each other in such a way.

Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin
 
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Grief and pain clouded her mind, she didn't even bother to check for assassins. Her mother had always kept the girl safe, there was no reason to ever fear the night when the woman was alive. Danger had been waiting for the young Varanin. The knife's sound falling from the would-be assassins' hand alerted the grieving daughter as she turned and found the assailant attacking. It seemed they wanted a more personal means of snuffing out her life. Distraught and broken, Quinn wasn't fast enough to react, she couldn't fend off the strength of the other. The voice that spoke took Quinn a moment to assess what was happening as her throat was crushed under the furious grip.

The other girl, her attacker, must have been someone to the one her mother had killed. How funny life was, Quinn didn't even think about revenge at this moment. She drowned in pain, and here this daughter outsmarted her. The pride the Echani held broke, she failed her mother once more, she couldn't even avenge her mother's death.

Hands pulled at the ones around her neck, but the world started to fade, and tears continued to steam from her fading amber eyes as they stared up to the face of her attacker. So much hate poured from the girl, and Quinn wished her death would help quell the hatred. Tears of her murderer and her own mixed as they dripped upon their hands. Quinn felt time slowing as her life drew closer to the end, she had dreams and wishes. They would go unfulfilled, but maybe that's what her fate was destined to be. Paying for her mother's sins, both of them. They had so many enemies - she was surprised she even made it to adulthood.

There was no one to protect her, the poor little princess choked to death, the last of the true Varanin line watched as the world started to go black, spiraling around Vesta's face. One last moment, she thought how beautiful she was in the moonlight, despite the act - her raw emotion, was so beautiful.

Suddenly, Quinn felt the hard floor under her back as her lungs burned with fresh air. Her throat sore, aching as she gasped for air, rolling to her side. The Echani Princess couldn't help the deep breaths she was taking as the other girl stared at her, pulling away. Shifting her knees, she pushed the knife away from both of them, the last thing she wanted was the assailant to find the courage again, but decide to make her death quick. The apologies fell upon her ears as she nodded, understanding the best she could where they were coming from. What made her stop? Why did she stop? The deed was so close to being finished, what had happened?

"It's…" She started, her own voice horse from the pain she felt around her throat, she would bruise, but that wasn't what was necessary. The innate empathy the Echani had inherited from her mother felt the swell of emotions, she focused on them trying to understand the other. There was so much to try and comb through, but she didn't feel her life in danger anymore. A hand brushed back her platinum hair from her eyes, and Quinn moved closer slightly.

Something screamed in the back of the Princess' mind, she should have run - should have gotten someone to help her. Yet, all she wanted to do was be closer to the other daughter. They shared the same pain, both of their mothers had sinned, but they didn't have to be their mothers. They didn't have to pay the price of what they chose to do with their lives.

Quinn spoke quietly; she feared if she spoke louder, it would scare the other. "It's okay, I'm sorry too, I'm so sorry…" Their emotions, though on different spectrums were the same, Quinn wanted comfort, and she knew the only person who could truly understand her, sat beside her. "My name is Quinn, what's yours?"

Vesta's beauty and the moonlight overthrew the young Princess thoughts.

How beautiful...
 

Blue Blood

Learning to speak so they could spit venom, to walk so they could run, to hold a blade so they could stab - every course, every angle, had carried them to this moment. The knife that Vesta had dropped had never been used, but dozens before it had found purchase in the chest of so many Echani before tonight. When the Shi'ido had first stepped out of their wheelchair, learned not to stumble, to walk, and then to run, it had been so that the would-be assassin could move to the faceless prisoners that had been used to train the daughter in their single-minded pursuit of revenge. The brief period of life that Vesta had experienced had been solely to prepare them for this moment, to sink that blade to the hilt in the chest of Spencer Varanin's child and behold the horror on the daughter that had known love's face as she stole her last gasps of air.

That blade now lay far from the entangled pair, still gleaming menacingly in the moonlight, but it was not the blade that would steal the soul of another - the forgiveness, the acceptance, spoken took the wind from under Vesta's sails, put an icy chill down their spine, and burned their throat even as they sobbed. Tears for failure, tears for pain, and tears for regret. How could they put their thoughts into words, when all they had ever learned to speak was hate, anger, and spite? This angel, this woman, spoke to them with a compassion that hadn't been extended to her - and the moonlight framed her face with a halo of light that illuminated her hair, her eyes, and everything about her with such powerful beauty.

"Vesta." The shapeshifter choked out, feeling as though it had been the assassin that had been assaulted rather than the mark - struck by the invisible arrow of love that cut true the moment Quinn's face was caught by the moonlight. Hate melted to shame, anger burned itself out into cold ashes of fear, and spite crumbled into regret - how could they have lived with themselves if they had followed through? "My mother.. your.." They stammered out as they tried to explain - as they tried to craft an excuse - but couldn't, it only sounded worse the more the words came out, the closer they came to unveiling how ruled by anger they were - an emotion that was, by all rights, uglier that what was deserved by her.

Instead the Shi'ido moved, not away as they desired, but towards her as they were compelled - how could they not? Quinn had already drawn closer, already accepted the confusion as mutual. Even as the Shi'ido felt their cheeks burn with embarrassment while they moved for a silent embrace, the diverging choice they could have taken played out on their mind. Rather than reached out in pain, Vesta could have fled in shame and never met the princess of Eshan again or else otherwise cemented each other as permanently opposite to the other. Quinn showed herself to understand, despite the unfair circumstances they had found themselves in and the frankly unforgivable intentions that had brought Vesta to her.

"I don't understand." Vesta whispered, not saying exactly what it was they meant, with a tone that seemed probing. The sobbing receded, and the skin-changer began to calm, though some anxiety remained apparent. Their face buried in the nape of their mark's neck with eyes held tightly shut, only to breath out the question that was echoing in their mind out loud - saying something direct, and yet still not precisely what it was they couldn't fathom.

"Why can't I hate you?"

Why do I want you?


Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin
 

Quinn remained quiet as she watched the would-be assassin move, she could feel the shifts in the emotions something deeper cutting through the anger. She couldn't help feel the need to comfort the red-headed girl, the way her face showed her confusion tore at the Echani's heart. A craving to hold and comfort came over her, but she did her best to hold back. In reality, the other daughter had come here for revenge, and a part of Quinn wondered if that was still on the table.

A smile broke across the silver-haired girl as she listened to the other daughter. Quinn repeated her name, feeling her lips curl over every sound like a word that her heart had known before she ever heard it. Vesta was a name that made her skin come alive, and her heart aflutter. Had she sung this name in a dream? How could one word pull such a reaction from the heart? Quinn felt her hand rest against her chest, her heart raced, but it was not out of fear - it was out of longing.

The truth, the one she already knew, came out. It cut through the air between them, out in the open. "I know." She spoke quietly, letting the other in on her assessment. There would only be one reason why the other would come into her room and attempt to take the Echani princess's life. Vesta's reason didn't matter anymore, Quinn didn't care how they met all that matter because they were now facing each other. An invisible string linked them together; no matter how chaotic and devastating that string was, they were connected, and Quinn didn't want to lose that.

Parallel journeys led them to each other, and Quinn felt as if she had always known Vesta. Eyes widen slightly as she felt her attacker's weight melt into her. The warmth of their cheek against her neck felt right, and Quinn felt suddenly safe. The question breathless against her ear and the Echani once again couldn't breathe, but this time for a far better reason. Her soul felt suddenly whole, having the other so close that she never felt so comfortable with someone else before this.

The question hung in the air as the princess tried to sort through her own emotional turmoil. She should hate Vesta, she should want to fight back, push her away, and keep a distance from them. Their mothers, they were enemies, but why? Was it because Quinn's mother walked the path of the light and Vesta's mother the path of darkness? Was it because of the side each woman chose to fight on? There was no answer for Quinn to hold onto. There wasn't one she could properly give Vesta at this moment. The Echani doubted she ever could provide a proper response. Like the one in her arms, Quinn couldn't find a reason to hate either.

Comfort, it seemed to be the one thing both needed at this time. Only they could understand each other, being children of slain mothers. Carefully, Quinn brought her arms around Vesta. The hug tightened slightly then released, offering any comfort she could to the shifter. Quinn found warmth in the hold, a heat that she felt herself always searching for in her short life. Her face rested against Vesta's shoulder, relishing in the warmth of another, one that she felt her heart cry out for. The touch between them tender and innocent, burned with emotions she didn't fully understand. Quinn slowly ran her fingertips gently along Vesta's back, hoping to provide some sense of solace.

Moving her head to rest slightly against the redhead, she nuzzled slightly and spoke quietly in their world, which now ran parallel to the galaxy's reality. "I don't know, but I don't want you to hate me" Quinn could feel her heart aching as in the back of her mind she knew what she wanted, but she didn't have the courage yet to voice it. I want you to love me. She heard the words in her mind, they hung on her lips, but she just smiled softly. "I can never hate you, Vesta." I want to love you. Quinn remained silent, she just wanted to melt away in the warmth of the other daughter. Urges and impulses took over the young woman as she took in everything that was Vesta Zambrano, a soft and tender brush of her lips against her would-be assassin's shoulder, lingered before she rested her head against it.

They weren't their mothers, and Quinn was happy about that.
 


Holy Water

Her touch was electric, and their embrace was like fire with no flame - heat that warmed them both, perhaps, but felt like the very touch Vesta had been searching for, longing for, that they'd thought they had lost forever before they could have ever experienced it. A gentle touch of a finger, a hand, on the Shi'ido's back sent a shudder through her body - subtle enough on the outside, but it woke the shapeshifter to something new within. So much so had Vesta wanted to hate her, to see a vile monster when they'd crept into the shadows of the room, but this woman - Quinn - was something far more terrifying, and it made them feel things that they couldn't recognize.

It was so strange, to hear a sentiment echoed back in her voice; to hear the same struggle Vesta was entangled with internally on the surface of her voice, the same probing, the same desires between the lines that seemed to answer the question they couldn't quite bring themselves to ask aloud - and to permit it with the single greatest touch they'd ever felt.

Lips.

Could they describe it? How? Could one describe the night sky to someone blind, or the colors of someone's eyes to another that couldn't see anything but grays and blacks and whites? Electric, it felt, but soft, and yet even more powerful than whatever strength Vesta had ever felt on their own. Addictive, it was, and it drew their head back, searching eyes roaming over the face of the most beautiful person the Shi'ido had ever laid eyes on - a beauty so consuming that it was subconscious that the natural face of the shapeshifter changed to match the one who'd pierced that armored shell that covered their wounded heart with such a subtle kiss to the shoulder.

"Hhh."

It wasn't words, but the strange garbled, breathy, sounds of pleasure, of seeking desire, came from those mirrored lips as they parted slightly and sought out those of the one they resembled. If that subtle touch on skin so far from their lips had parted such an electrifying wave of heat through their body, what would the real thing feel like? Confusion still ruled their mind, but desire and that base feeling of bonding guided them. '
Can I?' Vesta's voice whispered, carried through the telepathic channels of their mind as emotion started to get the better of them. It still felt strange, unnatural, to either feel the way they did or to be the way they were, so they looked for guidance from the only one who ever could give them direction now and for the future - in Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin .

'I think I..love.. you.'
 

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//: Crush //:
//: Hailyn Hailyn //:
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A smile remained on the Echani's face as she noticed she hadn't been pushed away. Her attempt at providing solace to the girl had been accepted. Caution started to fade away from her, all of this felt right and how it should be. Someone so precious to her, wrapped in her arms, Quinn couldn't help or understand this swell of emotions inside of her. All she knew was that she never wanted to let go. Quinn feared that if she let go that she would never be able to reach for Vesta again.

Quinn watched letting the moonlight drown them in the shadows, she watched as the face she first had seen faded changing into her own. She blinked with curiosity, but still smiled with a hug tighter than before. Vesta proved to be so much more than what meets the eye, and Quinn felt her heart flutter once more, feeling Vesta move in her arms. She drew closer, and Quinn found herself forgetting the world as she stared down into the same amber gaze of her own face. Despite seeing a mirrored image of herself, Quinn knew who was behind the mask, they were all she wanted.

Quinn wanted this fallen angel in her arms, more than anyone she had ever wanted. There was nothing that the Echani wouldn't do or say to make the Shi'ido smile. She tried to erase the desert of their shared pain and shower it with blossoming love.

Her face flush as she could almost hear the quiet thoughts of Vesta Zambrano. Seeing them lean forward, Quinn whispered before their lips touched, answering the unheard question burning in her soon to be lover's mind.

"Yes."

Her movements were careful as she leaned forward, finding the lips that searched for hers. Tender and longing, the kiss tasted sweeter than candy. Quinn held back, letting her swain feel their first kiss gentle and innocent. She wanted the Shi'ido more than anything, and she found it difficult to just let her lips rest against the others. Quinn felt her body ache to be closer than the hug, nothing would satisfy her, but to be complete with Vesta.

Quinn pulled Vesta closer, keeping them against her as her lips pressed harder into the kiss, wanting everything that the other daughter was. Fingers brushed the nape of her beloved while traveling to the soft strands of her hair. Every part of her came to life, feeling the electrical touch of their lips, crafting the connection that would bind them together for however long destiny allowed them to be. Quinn knew there would be no one like Vesta in her life, the Echani's cold heart warmed and swelled singing Vesta's name with each passing touch.

The hand supporting her precious love held fast the clothing she wore. The desire to pull it away warred inside the core of the Echani Princess. She wanted everything, she wanted only Vesta. Drawing from the kiss slightly, she inhaled deeply, suddenly needing to catch her breath. Quinn wanted to express her feelings, the new life that bubbled inside her heart, the sense of love touching her for the first time. She wanted to shout it, she wanted to tell Vesta how treasured she had become to Quinn. There were no words that she could express how she felt. Instead, she leaned forward once more with the only thing she knew she could do. For one night, she wanted to erase the world's pain from her lover, to show them bliss and happiness.

'Love me, please as much as I love you...'

Lips brushed against the tender skin of her treasure, the Master of her heart. Trailing from her neck to her lips once more, Quinn pulled her world back into her, never wanting to let go.

 

Kiss and Collide

Lips with every touch, electric; hands at every collision, burning; but their love - their love was volcanic.

The moment their lips had touched it was like time had faded away, like everything before was just a vague memory, as if nothing else mattered - nothing but the beautiful woman that enraptured ver. It clicked, in that moment, what they - ve - were, and what they were, together. Love and raw, unmitigated, passion drew them closer, until the only thing between them were the clothes they wore - and yet still they wanted to be closer. To spill out the desire from within and declare that wish in any way that wasn't through speech; as if physical touch somehow brought them closer together on an emotional level.

'Always.'

Muscles the Shi'ido didn't even know were tense relaxed as their bodies tangled together, hands roaming, gliding, as the moonlight dimmed. Time, now, could only be measured by the presence of illumination for them to see the work of the other - to see each other - but the light faded just as their passion burned brightest. Nothing in this world, nor the next, or anything else - ever - could ever provide itself as comparison for the level of emotion, of passion, felt between the two, and yet, when the morning came, to wake beside her was equally as moving.


"I love you." Vesta said as their body changed, shifting, shaping, until it was a face that Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin would come to know very well in the days ahead.
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//: Written in the Stars //:
//: Hailyn Hailyn //:
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Never before had Quinn met anyone that could make her feel so free as Vesta did. She felt as if someone could see past through the masks that she wore protecting herself from the world. The weight Quinn felt of being a daughter with the pedigree she inherited disappeared the moment she gave herself entirely to Vesta. Quinn felt her world melting with every kiss, every touch from the gorgeous being she found herself enamored with. All her fears and worries, the pain she felt from her mother's passing, and the loneliness from being an orphan, none of it mattered anymore as her heart swelled with desire and love.

Quinn lost track of where she ended, and Vesta started, as close as they were, she wanted to be even closer. She desired to memorize everything about them, every sound and taste. To feel safe and protected by her newfound lover's love and arms, Quinn never wanted to lose this feeling. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged, that someone was there to catch her when she fell. Was this how love was supposed to feel?

The night felt like a dream that she never wanted it to end, the morning was a sign that reality pierced their fantasy. A part of the Echani wondered if she would wake to see perfection beside her or if it had all been just a dream.

I love you.

A voice and Quinn opened her eyes, seeing a face she could recall from her dreams. A soft smile as she felt her face blush deeply, there had been others that had confessed their feelings to her. Yet none compared to how Vesta sounded and how she felt towards them. She buried her face into her pillow of their shared bed and then popped back out. Her fingers danced along the beautifully handsome face she awoke to, as she caught her breath and nodded.

"I love you too."

Never had she told someone this, feeling the words leave her lips felt right. Quinn moved closer, pulling the tangled blanket with her as she brushed the tip of her nose against the Shi'ido's, and she gave them a small kiss while snuggling into them. "Let me be yours forever. Is that okay?"
 

Hands To Myself

Let me be yours forever. Is that okay?

In that moment there was no force in the galaxy - not the force itself or the works of fate or even divine intervention - which could have pulled the two apart beyond their own wills, and their wills alone. Like the press of a metaphorical ink-dipped thumb along the proverbial dotted line beside Vesta's heart, Quinn's request became binding before it was even spoken with her kiss and there was nothing in the Shi'ido's mind except fulfilling that singular desire from that moment on. "You're irresistible, has anyone ever told you that before?"

The words spilled from vis lips effortlessly with a wide smile while ve reached towards her face to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, captivated with that serenity. An ocean of emotion formed from their union and though it felt as though they'd only barely skimmed the surface, the flutter of butterflies in Vesta's stomach that came about from their increasing closeness quickly drove ver to diving deep into its depths. "My own Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin ?" Ve mused aloud as they shuffled closer in embrace. "And here I was just asking for your love." Vesta teased before sneaking in another kiss on the cheek.

"Forever, you and I. In mind, body, and soul." The Shi'ido whispered into her ear softly. "I will never want anything else - only you."

"Everything else - for you."

'That's what she deserves.' Vesta thought,
shifting slightly in bed so their faces were even again. Ve could stare into those brilliant eyes forever and a day if that was all ve was allowed and still be content, so to seek out her hands with vis and wrap vis fingers in hers was surreal. Everything about this, about the night before, was like one long fever dream Vesta never wanted to wake up from. Quinn would be vis, and Vesta's heart would belong to her, forever - master over the other in so many different ways. Every precious thing beneath the stars should belong to this princess, the very least ve could do for her was to do the most.

"Apprentice."

It was abrupt, more in realization than intimacy in contrast with their gentle ebb and flow of before. "I don't want anyone else having that pleasure." Vesta said firmly, almost with a pout, before expanding further. "I'm inexperienced, but I'll be your master," Ve continued before breaking off with a pause to tap vis forehead to hers. "To keep us together."
 

Every moment passed between them, and Quinn found herself getting more lost in Vesta's smile. The words that poured from their mouth only made her blush, drawing her closer until their flesh touched once more. The feeling electrified and reminded her of the evening before, the haze lifting as she caught her breath. Quinn couldn't help but get as much of Vesta's touch as her fingers grazed her face brushing aside her soft hair.

Quinn returned the touch, her fingers tracing along her lover's face to their lips and softly down their neck to their shoulders. She wanted to only know their touch against her skin, she wanted no one else to know her this intimately. Being so close caused such a desirable ache in her core, and touch only made it the burning stronger, tighter around her heart. Vesta leaned closer, and Quinn held her breath, the heat of their words caressed the Echani's ear. A soft shudder escaped her breath as she nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

There would be no other for her. Everything that Quinn Varanin was and would be belonged to Vesta. The only word she ever wanted to speak, to praise, to love was Vesta. Quinn's world began and ended with her lover, who she kept close to her, and there was no other now or ever.

Their hands came together, and Quinn brought the loving fingers to her lips. She kissed the hand that belonged to the one that kept her warm and provided the ecstasy that they could only give. Amber eyes stared as Vesta spoke, calling her apprentice. Another smile spread across her face, one that she would only reserve for her lover, her Master. Nodding, Quinn cupped her new Master's cheek. "I would want no one else, but you. No one else can guide my hand or my heart like you, my Master." The title made her breathless as she could no longer fight the urge to pull them closer.

"I never want to leave your side," Legs brushed against each other, tangling and pulling Vesta as close the Princess could. Their foreheads touching, she leaned up and kissed her Master. A smile through the kiss followed by a small nip at the corner of Vesta's bottom lip, Quinn whispered, "I belong to you, don't ever let me go." Slender, lithe fingers moved through Vesta's dark hair as she pulled them into another kiss, passion, and desire to fuel the young apprentice. Bodies melding together blurring the lines of their beginning and ends, with only the white sheet protecting them from the outside world.
 

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