I once called it home..

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IumYMCllMsM​

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Another mission, and another near failure. Casualties far too high for the units he had led. [member="Coren Starchaser"] had urged him back to the field, and he had taken to it quickly enough. Now he sat at the Starbird cantina, a row of empty shot glasses before him. He longed for Corellia. For his family. For the son he knew he had done right by in giving him over to the Order to raise. Certainly his mother, nor him were really parental material.

Each shot glass had been preceded by a name, and he was fast approaching a well-intoxicated state even for him. A final glass was slammed down, and he burped loudly, and tried to grab the attention of the bartender studiously ignoring him. Conveniently, the bottle came off the shelf and to his hand on a wobbly wave of telekinesis. And thus began the journey again.

Corellia was fine without him. The Alliance rose to greater heights and then fell all without him. He was no general, and his saber skills had fallen from where they once were. Generally, he was useless.

[member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Romi Jade]

She found herself wandering the base after she attended her own individual meeting with The Shattered. She figured [member="Coren Starchaser"] was still occupied with other business and thought she'd wait for him and they'd find each other later; she did come with him after all. Her path down the walkway put her sort of outside but not at the same time, so she was taking it all in as she went along really.

Thinking she'd look less lonely if she were within a Cantina, she chose that as her final destination. Nodding at the server as she took a seat at the bar. It was fairly empty, she suspected today was a day where everyone were prepping for their individual roles...

"Just...a water please. Thank you." She trailed the bartender as he left to create her drink.

She'd double take when she saw a bottle suddenly levitate, confused as to what exactly was going on she trace it back to [member="Julius Sedaire"]

There wasn't a question as to how many drinks he'd had; she could see the glasses.

"Are you alright?" She mentioned, maybe just a couple of seats away from him.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Bleary eyes caught hers, and a barked and forced laugh that carried no vocal tone to it scraped out of a raw throat. It was a strange thing to see red eyes fresh with recently shed tears in a blank and expressionless face. Another failure and another backfire of his fight against the Sith. Further proof he was never really much use except as comedic relief. At least, that's what the snidely nagging voice in his mind told him. Blue-grey eyes and sandy hair turned with a dour glance back to the drinks and this time he just took a pull straight from the bottle of aged whiskey, tossing a chit down on the counter to the keep.

When he did speak to answer, he did so without looking, eyes locked in false interest in the bottle, knuckles white gripped to the same object.

"woh yeah. lots an entire strike force on a raid. some jedi gneeradl i amh. useless idriot is mfroe the litke."

[member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Romi Jade]

Blink

Blink

It took her a few minutes to decipher things, having to replay it in her head after he'd said it. She slowly lurched back into her seat, looking over at the bartender who'd been casually staring at her as if to say all hope was lost. Seems like the attempt she was about to make had been tried before but...

She shook her head at him, signaling that maybe he shouldn't serve him anymore; well...he'd already taken a full bottom himself.

So he was a Jedi General? Her thoughts went immediately to Coren...just what would happen if any of them came walking in. From what she could see...this situation had caused this man to be very fragile and it was because he cared.

"What's your name?" She casually asked. She expected some sort of slurred answer.

"You're not a useless idiot...Don't say that."

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"julisu sedaire. baltetmzaster of the corlegailn order."

The was a heavy slur to the words, and a hiccup followed, and the bottle was rather suddenly devoid of content. Whatever spurred his self-loathing, it was not a new demon. New and old pains leeched off him in the Force, bleeding into his aura. The problem with learning to accept but deflect emotions as any Vapaad practitioner did was you walked a very, very narrow line with powerful moments of feeling and stress. And if you weren't careful, your wariness of that line wavered when not in battle, and eventually led you to the mess Julius was now finding himself in. Self loathing and self pity warred with self hatred, and the very real tendrils of the Dark Side were clawing at his heart.

That's more often how these things worked. Not so much by a singular moment of rage and bloodlust, but the slow degradation of self and control of self, either to lust or pride or sorrow. Nothing inhuman with each act or feeling. But with every instance, the scale tipped a bit more out of balance. And a bit more. Until finally things were gone beyond recovery, and the chains of the balance broken.

The next time he spoke, there was a fight evident in how his words came out, a straining to be heard.

"Former. I'm not master of much now."

[member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Romi Jade]

Her head dropped, a more serious of her prior looks.

"You're Julius Sedaire?" She pried. She'd heard his name through Coren mostly, and a few others who'd worked with him throughout the Alliance...though maybe those rumors consisted of seeing him publicly intoxicated. Regardless, he'd done the work and was trusted enough to lead an operation on his own...surely that was a testament to his skills.

"I've heard of you...it was a mixture of things but Coren thinks highly of you." She mused before lurching in, "And...if you were worthy of such respect on that level then I'm sure there's more bothering you than losing majority of your men - which is a terrible loss to shoulder yourself but - but I can surmise you knew the ins and outs of war prior to that."

She leaned against the bar, "So what's really got you loathing about, huh?" She picked, "Because a man like you is above this...shying from his issues...or is he?"

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Despite the alcohol, the Jedi knew enough to know he'd scowl at the other if he could. Her comments were annoyingly perceptive, and the loss of his squad was merely the tip of the iceberg. Gathering himself, he spoke, and if slightly halting and lurching, the words were clear. And they painted a picture quite agitated at the man speaking them.

"To be the Order's prodigy, and then to fall to barely be able to be a Jedi. My fate, over and over. I can't keep my head even-keeled, and can't even fight properly now. Battlemaster who is so depressed and angry he can't fight for fear of what it'll turn him to. I'm worse than useless in battle. I'm a hindrance."

Rage boiled to a point in him, and the bartender rubbed the back of his neck unknowingly, a symptom of even the dullest of awares able to feel certain things.

[member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Romi Jade]

"Prove it..."

Her head fell, angling down; there was emphasis on the smirk she'd presented afterward. That soon vanished in favor of a more intense look fitting of the mood. She didn't want to make a joke out of this, because it wasn't funny...but she wanted to see. She could feel the rage emitting an aura-esque steam from his body. It could have been a mixture of things....

"Fight me..." She mused. She wasn't stepping down from this challenge either...more so because she knew he was capable of moving past this.

"You're upset? Hopefully it's with yourself. You went from here..." she motioned with her hand, holding it just near her temple and suddenly dropped it. "To here..."

She lurched in, "I'll make you a deal. If you win I'll leave you alone, but if I win then stop drinking and you lend me a hand." She took a moment.

"Hm?"

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

There wasn't really a response for a moment to Romi. Just a slow stare down at the drop-sheath on his thigh that held his lightsaber. Fingers traced across worn and oiled leather, tapping across rivets and buckles, drumming across the songsteel hilt in his casing. The hilt shivered in the casing as if in response to something, and slowly his eyes shifted up to meet hers. Within them, something seem to flicker through the pain and alcohol. And with a quick motion he sat the bottle down, standing with a slightly shaky movement.

"You've got a deal, but you'll see what I mean and regret it..."

[member="Romi Jade"]