Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private I Roved Out: Ch 3 - What We've Become

Kal Shebbol
Khaleel Malvern Khaleel Malvern

It only took one word: Moross.

"There is a temple about an hour south of the starport," the twi'lek help desk clerk said, handing her a map and circling the symbol, "would you like me to call you a cab Miss?"

Loxa understood the words temple, south, and starport, but the rest were lost upon her as she took the map and quietly thanked the woman. This felt as if it were far too simple, but she had learned in her youth never to question good fortune. You never knew who you might be offending for their generosity. So she headed on foot, hitching herself a ride with a passing mechanic shuttle making its way to a parts factory in the south, just beyond the temple.

The Moross Temple seemed curiously misplaced where it sat surrounded by burgeoning commerce of a newer, more modern era. The building was large and ornate, made in a style of architecture that greatly stood out among the boxy buildings surrounding it. The interior welcomed visitors from far and wide, though it was quite empty when she stepped inside. Still, the peaceful nature lent itself as a reprieve from the chaos of her life as of late. So Loxa took a seat among the pews, somewhere near an effigy of Aesir Inari, and reached for the Book of Moross nestled in the shelf on the backside of the pew in front of her.

Strange how it struck her just as the staff had; to be so foreign yet so familiar. The words within she could not read, but the felt like she knew them by heart even if they did not readily leapt to mind.
 
Gold eyes
Brown hair
Tanned like leather
Scarred, especially her face
15K

Who the kark had golden eyes?

That's all Khaleel wanted to know. Then again, this Galaxy was a strange one and big at that, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised. But why did it stick with him so much? Golden eyes. Like pools of molten liquid, swirling, or like moons- Khal didn't often find himself in a poetic mood and it made him suspicious. Maybe this job wasn't a good idea, but when you get the call... you get the call.

They gave him last sightings.

Kathol Outback.

Bumkark nowhere and Malvern had to figure things out himself after that. Pay off the right people, keep an ear to the ground, but eventually he locked down a possible candidate. She was headed for Kal Shebbol. From the startport her description got him to a little shop. The woman there confirmed she sold a map.

This isn't going to be any trouble, right, mister? She was a bit quiet, but-

A fistful of credits solved her concern.

He was hot on her heels and now his own concern was fading away too. It always did elbow deep in the job. When nothing else mattered, when the hunt was all there was and blood was already seeping into the water. Moross. Why was that name familiar to him? It seemed to originate in that bloody maw, the gaping hole in his memory that scabbed over time and time again. But always would start bleeding at the most random of things.

The temple itself stuck out like a sore thumb.

Hour away from the port it looked like once upon a time it had stood on its own. Until time, sentient greed and irrelevance grew a whole settlement around it.

He unclipped his blaster, but didn't take it out the holster just yet. Not wise when there could be eyes on you. A quiet step brought him inside the temple entrance. It wasn't difficult to make out the woman inside. She was... reading a book? Khal frowned and was halfway through pulling his weapon out when something stopped him.

"The Prism does not like to be investigated." Khal simply said to her as he stepped out of the shadows. Why was he doing this? Never talk to the mark, just finish the job and get out.

And yet...

Two suns, flowing orbs that enticed.

Loxa Visl Loxa Visl
 
She had been mostly alone for some time, content to sit and slowly page through the book. At one point a Priest passed through, pausing to greet her before carrying on their way to the back of the temple. A rattataki - not that she recognized them as such, but Loxa found the variety of faces that did come through to be a sign of something good. At some point, when this Moross had been alive, their temples had been filled with such a wondrous array of races. In the quiet between visitors she returned to the book.

When the man arrived, Loxa paid it no attention. Here she felt safe. Here it was peaceful. Here the people did no harm.

Page after page her eyes slowly surveyed the letters and the illustrations. When she reached a prayer section by Aesir Inari, Loxa gently pressed her fingers along the edges of a hand-inked portrait of the gentle Goddess. The sting of tears reflexively filled her eyes in tandem with a curious clench of her heart.

She knew this prayer.

For those who are fleeing:
Sanctuary.

For those who are staying:
Safety.

For those who are fighting:
Peace.

For those whose hearts are breaking:
Comfort.

For those who see no future:

Hope.


Loxa frowned into the increasing ache of grief for a loss she could not yet comprehend, and winced within her hood as the unbidden tears shed upon her cheeks. Why did these words hurt so much? What was it she felt her soul longing for? Some gaping hole of her being, lost to time, unknown until these dreams began and memories flooded her mind. But was this her pain or someone else's?

"The Prism does not like to be investigated."

She did not immediately look up, as difficult as it was to detach herself from the current tide of foreign feelings, but when she did it was with a gaze of molten gold flooded by it. The image of the man warped, Loxa reached up to wipe at her eyes, realizing soon enough that he had addressed her directly and her silence was potentially rude.

<<Forgiveness,>> she asked in wilted Paecean, "This One does not understand."
 
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Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

The words interlaced.

First it was foreign.

A colored quantity that Khaleel didn't understand and his head tried to process. But then just as he was to say something else, his memory caught up with the rest of his brain and understanding dawned. Which was weird. When did he ever learn Paecean? It wasn't exactly a panacea for every communication problem in the Galaxy currently.

Dathomir... had Khal ever been there?

He'd remember if so, no?

<< That's you and me both, lady. >> Khal responded and to his surprise? Fluent karking Paecean. << I don't remember ever studying this language before but for some reason I seem to be pretty karking good at it. >>

His attention shifted to the room first.

Then back to her.

<< You do something to me? >>
 
That he responded in her native tongue was far more jarring than she could have ever predicted. Loxa froze, wiping one last time at her eyes and willing them to see clearly as she turned her full attention to the man while he spoke. In a moment she recognized his face as the very one that had begun to haunt her dreams since the day she discovered the staff.

She'd traversed across the stars seeking answers. Spoken with nearly a dozen strangers hoping for some kind of insight. One had managed to extract the face from her mind, enough for her to take that likeness and pay every last credit she had for the darkweb to find who it belonged to for her.

Yet here he was. On Kal Shebbol. Standing before her in the Moross temple, speaking perfect Paecean just as she remembered him.

...how?

Loxa stared, lips parted over words that failed to form, and slowly closed the book to set it aside so that she could rise to a stand. One hand pushed away the hood from her head while the other carefully collected the staff from where it leant beside her.

<<This One has seen a man in her dreams for many moons,>> she began, <<has searched for Him across the stars,>> the witch slowly shook her head, <<a man has always known the language of She.>>

But how she knew that, herself, she could not say. It was a simple fact she felt compelled to believe.

<<This One has done nothing ... >> her eyes strayed from him to the staff in her hand, <<...but follow the memories that come from this.>>
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

This time around the translation came as soon as she spoke.

As if his mind pathways were getting used to the exact way they were burned through.

<<Which man? Which One?>> Her language spoke in riddles, but it was also oddly... comforting. An arrival of home after a long absence. Which made exactly zero sense and didn't really make Khal any more comfortable. <<You mean me?>> A thumb pointed to his chest. If so, then 'this one' was probably Loxa, but why she spoke in such a weird way was beyond him.

Like she disassociated herself from her body.

Khal was going to ask more but then she pointed to the staff.

Golden eyes above a golden staff.

<<I have... had->> Brows furrow. Could you call them dreams if you were awake? Waking dreams? <<Thoughts pop into my head. Imagery that make no sense. But somehow familiar regardless. You saying this has something to do with your staff?>>

That made no sense at all, he hadn't been anywhere near that thing until she showed it off.

But why then could Khal almost feel the shape of it in his hands without even holding it?
 
Which man? Which One?

Do you mean me?



The witch silently nodded and silently wondered.

He was seeing visions, too? Foreign memories that did not belong ... but he had not touched the staff. So how could this be? Perhaps, she thought, just a coincidence. But what witch of her imprecise knowledge of many strange and esoteric things could hear such words and not believe them to be some part of fate? The compulsion to close the distance came upon her strongly and shifted her feet across the tiled floor.

<<This One does not know such things,>> closer now, but close enough. She stopped, holding fast against the alien need that sought to will her into his arms once more. Once more? No, she had never seen him before in her life - and that fact of reality reminded her of what this was: a haunting. She might follow the clues, but she was not this being that had infiltrated her mind and dreams.

<<But This One wishes to find out.>>
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

When the strange woman stepped closer Khal's hand extended towards her.

As if he was about to cup her jaw. Midway through he paused, blinking and quickly took his hand back, thank you very much. Nothing about this made any sense whatsoever.

"I am just a killer with a gun, ma'am." Said hand instead tapping at the side of his revolver. She'd know or at least suspect that already. Dug deep enough to get the attention of the Prism in her search for him. "None of this makes a whole lot of sense to me." Khal gestured to the temple around them next as he glanced away from her.

"This chit. Religion, the Force, it's shenanigans that happen to other people. Not me."

Except for the fact that it was clearly happening to him NOW. No matter what his personal feelings about it were.

In spite of his vocal disagreements- "What can we do to... figure this out?" Because no matter his opinion... Khal wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep functioning like this. Every week, month, year... it was getting worse. Sometimes Khal felt like he was sleeping walking through life, living in someone else's boots, and waking up somewhere else.

It was... exhausting.
 
All these things were concerning. Confusing. Troubling.

Khal wasn't the only one experiencing restless nights plagued by dreams so real, so visceral, that they gripped the psyche like a vice. Loxa's gaze shifted to the weapon at the man's side and the statement about being a killer stuck with her. Though she had learned over the many years she'd spent traversing the galaxy that Dathomirians had a bad rap, Loxa was not a killer. She respected, even honored life and she bound no beliefs of her own to any God.

No God had played any role in saving her soul - just a witch among beasts among jungles among stars.

Her faith was that of life. Her religion was its balance against death. Would that she were the foil to Khal's darker faith. Perhaps they had been fated to meet after all, and balance one another out.

<<Follow the dreams,>> she replied finally, pulling her gaze from him to reach down and take up the Morossi book on the pew bench. Loxa smiled at it with a gentle, warm fondness, and moved quietly past the man to seek out the Priest who lingered at the front of the temple lighting candles.

"Please?" she asked after the Priest who turned her way.
"How may I guide you, pilgrim?"
"This One ... would like to have this," Loxa held out the book, "This One has nothing to give in return."
The Priest smiled and placed his hands around the book in her own, pressing it gently toward her, "You need not give anything for the Book of Moross. All those who seek sanctuary in its pages are welcome."
Moved by the generosity, Loxa bowed to him, touching her forehead to his hand, <<Sante,>> she said and offered a quiet witch's prayer of gratitude.

When she returned to face Khaleel, Loxa's smile had faded and her golden eyes rested first upon his gun and then upon his own gaze, <<Has a man come to kill This One?>>
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

<<Follow the dreams,>>

Khal watched her walk off with the book in tow towards the priest. How do you follow dreams?? He wanted to exclaim after her. All of this was nonsensical and outside his comfort zone. It would have baffled him to know that once upon a time he had been right at home with strange magicks and rituals.

Now?

Part of him was tempted to pull out the gun, double tap her in the back of the head and walk off. It would be easier... the smarter play. Whatever this was... it was dangerous.

There was a reason why Khal couldn't remember, right?

Perhaps Loxa could see that struggle when she came right back and asked him that question. It was also enough to shock him out of the conflict. His hand leaving the belt again and glancing up to her. Perhaps a little bit guilty at that. "I did. You poked a hornet's nest when you were looking into me and found the Prism."

A little shrug there.

"Am happy enough to let things play out for now. You got me curious, lady." And she was strangely gorgeous. Why did This One attract him so? Slashed to kark face, wiry, and muscled.

It wasn't his usual type.

Yet he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"I dunno if you got a ship, but I do. We can 'follow the dreams' there? Whatever that means."
 
Being told you were a target of death was always such a humbling thing. Life on Dathomir was never easy for anyone - many things on the planet could and would kill you to sustain themselves, both beast and man alike. Beyond her home? The galaxy was a different jungle and the variety of predators still amazed her whenever she found something new. That she would find a predator in the man that haunted her dreams had instilled within her a renewed sense of awareness.

He'd come here to kill her and he could have done so many times already. Yet here they were.

<<This One does not have a ship,>> she replied, studying him while he stared at her, <<and nothing of value to pay a man with.>>

She did not even have her pouch of herbal tea to share, having given it to a man named Quill after bringing sickness upon him in the form of the Primeval mark. But, she recalled as the elder Jedi came to mind, she had his hand-drawn map which she carefully extracted from a leather pouch on her hip and unfolded.

<<Here is where This One goes next to follow the dreams,>> Loxa pointed a finger to the dot on the map labeled Exocron.
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

"Who said anything about payment?" Bemused there as he glanced over to her again. "Figure that if you can't get me out of your head and I can't get you out of mine?"

It was almost dirty to say-

"We might as well be in this together."

It had been decades since he had teamed up with anyone. Even saying it filled him with trepidation. Yeah, this was definitely not a great idea. Every fiber of his being was vibrating with a distinct disinterested in this path. It were her eyes, damn it. They kept drawing him in. Maybe Khaleel would force her to wear sunglasses later.

It would keep him from being distracted all the time.

He glanced lazily at the map and then quirked his brows. "Exocron? Never heard of it. Sounds kinda ominous though." He gestured for her to follow him. It would be quite a track back to the starport and his ship.

"You sure we can't follow the dreams somewhere else? Somewhere tropical... like Rishi?"
 
This felt like a natural progression of things as they might come together in an instance of fate. At least, that is what the other witch Elders would say. Destiny and fate ruled over everything for them and Loxa had always felt an innate desire to reject such ideologies. Even more strongly after the dreams began and the feeling of being fated to do something had worked its way into her very bones.

But ... if fate had brought this man to her and this man was offering a free ride to follow the lines as they lay? She was no witch to question such a gift, and so willingly followed as he lead the way down the center aisle and out of the temple. Loxa carefully stowed her new book away into the leather satchel at her side and blinked into the fading light of the day.

<<A map does not say Rishi...>> she replied with some confusion, eyes narrowing as she referenced the hand drawn map. The humor was lost on her, but humor had always been lost on her in this life and the other.

Loxa folded her map and put it away, <<When did a man begin to see these visions? What does a man see?>>
 
"No, I know it doesn't, I-" And his explanation trailed off there, because something told him that... there was no need. A familiarity that whispered it was just as fine as it was right now without the complication of explaining a joke.

His hand brushed it off.

"Don't worry about it." The question next made him pause. Not in stride, but in thought as he wondered about it. "Ever since I came back. And before you ask, I don't really know." Khal shrugged. "I used to be a big name in the criminal underworld. What I said... mattered." And then something had happened.

Something that made him lose years of his life.

"When I got back- my reputation was gone, my name gone, my face... gone. I was just another mook on the streets. And the visions began. As for what I see... tough to say." Brows furrow there. "It's never really clear, you know? Not... like a memory or something. But more like impressions. I can walk past a street corner and feel like I have walked past it a hundred times before... even though it was only the first time."

A shrug as they passed through the settlement and to its outskirts.

The forest was already looming up before them.

"Your golden eyes. I keep seeing them in mirrors, reflections, always watching me. What about you? You mentioned your staff? Before that you didn't have any visions at all? And what sort of visions... besides me."

Loxa Visl Loxa Visl
 
The witch walked at the man's side and listened, her footsteps quiet and the gentle, rhythmic tmp ...tmp ...tmp of the staff in accompaniment. The sound of it, the weight of the staff in her hand was something she found oddly familiar and comforting.

<<Maisha yaro,>> she inferred from his explanation of his experiences, <<it is a ghost life. A place a man has been before that the soul remembers.>>

As for her eyes? That was stranger still. Loxa had not met many others with golden eyes like herself, it was true, but they did exist out in the wider galaxy. She knew this because, as she thought back, she had encountered others in her travels that had said the same. Recognized her as someone else only to realize she was not them. Why he would see golden eyes, Loxa could not say. The realm of the mind and the many things connected to it was not hers to know. If she had, she might've been much farther along in understanding her own problems than she was right now.

<<This One saw no visions before the staff,>> Loxa confirmed, <<now This One dreams of far places, bright temples, dark jungles...>> her voice trailed slightly as her gaze lifted to the forest they approached, <<a giant tree that holds up the stars, a bad mark...>>
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

Head tilt there.

"Ghost life, huh?" That sounded trippy and vaguely uncomfortable. "Why would I be experiencing a ghost life? Like I said, I am not at home with all this weird magick chit." A gentle gesture towards her staff as they walked. "I dun' got a magical staff on me or anything." Then again, was there really any other explanation that made any damn of sense?

Still though.

What kind of staff gives you new memories?

The bad kind. Instinctively Khal knew this. "That sounds ominous, especially the big karking tree part." He commented idly while rummaging what she was saying through his brain a little bit.

"You ever consider just throwing the staff into the nearest ocean?"

That's what Khal would have done, if an item he picked up suddenly 'blessed' him with a 'ghost life' so to speak.
 
The man spoke strangely, even in Paecean, and it made Loxa smile in faint amusement as she listened, but she did not comment on it. Chaos knew she spoke strangely enough on her own.

As for her staff? The witch followed his gaze to the dull, bronzey gleam of the metal pole and the various symbols etched into it. She knew now that those symbols represented the Morossi Aesirs, though she knew not yet which symbol stood for which God aside from Aesir Inari's. That one for whatever reason she knew innately. As if she'd been born to recognize it.

<<No,>> Loxa replied quietly, <<beyond granting visions to This One, the staff does not seem to contain any other powers.>> It made for a perfect walking stick and, though Loxa was entirely ignorant of its physical makeup, it seemed a sturdy and trustworthy implement. Plus, she'd grown rather fond of it - but who was to say if that was her own fondness or the remnants of the life that had transferred through it.

<<It still has purpose,>> she continued with some level of conviction to the thought, <<that may reveal itself in time.>>

A curiosity did occur to her, in that line of thinking, and she came to a slow stop in her steps to look at the staff, then to look at the man.

<<Or to another...>> for she had no idea why the man would have his own visions, or why she would see the man in her own. They seemed to be linked by this curious object so... Loxa held it out to him. Perhaps it would react to him in the same way it did with her.
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

Khal was skeptical that the stick was just a stick.

If it grants visions that sets a woman on a journey through the Galaxy? There had to be more to about it. Yeah, the more Khaleel thought about it, the more he was certain he would have thrown it into an ocean himself. If not an ocean then a black hole. "I dunno, lady." He finally said, voicing his skepticism while peering at the staff from a 'safe' distance.

"Usually with magicks crap like that... well, there is always a little 'but' if not more to it."

He didn't immediately realize she had stopped walking.

Only several steps after did Khal realize Loxa wasn't walking next to him anymore. Coming to a pause the man looked over his shoulder and realized she was holding it out for him.

"Oh... no, nah, that's good, I don't need to-" Before Khaleel realized it his steps were already leading back towards Loxa. "You know. I really hate this sort o' magick chit-" For a man constantly bitching and complaining? His hand quickly wrapped itself around the hilt of the staff. His eyes closed there and he held his breath.

It really looked like he expected it to explode on them.
 
Having come from the Dathomiri witch culture, Loxa was well accustomed to many forms of superstitions, especially when it came to magic. But rarely did she cross another who seemed so outwardly, stubbornly bent against it. What had happened to this man to make him so wary of the arcane? He seemed to be in good health. Strong. His mental faculties in order ... well, aside from his visions.

The witch watched curiously, calmly, as his hand closed around the pole and once she felt the full strength of his grip she released it to him to hold.

Seconds passed, nothing happened.

A minute passed, still nothing.

Loxa did not know everything about every magic or power manifest across the galaxy, but she felt certain that if something were to happen - it would have done so rather quickly.

<<A man is paranoid,>> she remarked, lofting a brow etched by one of the three deep scars that crossed her face, <<is there nothing?>> Couldn't exactly tell if anything were occurring within but so far as she could see from without, the staff was merely a dead piece of metal.
 
Loxa Visl Loxa Visl

Breaths turned to seconds turned to a minute.

Nothing.

His jaw clenched.... and then with a snap his eyes opened to stare at the staff. His hand. Then back to the staff. Before finally settling on Loxa right as she claimed he was paranoid. Which, well... "I mean, yes. I am definitely paranoid." There was nothing particularly shameful or wrong about it. It was exactly who Khaleel was.

"But my paranoia is the main thing that has kept me alive for all these years." In fact, Khal was proud about it in a way. It was just... sensible. He tried to shake the stick however.

This was less sensible.

"No... nothing." He turned it around and shook it again. "Weird. I wonder why we are having these visions about each other. The stick should have reacted somehow, if it gave them to you, right?" But then again... it was magick. Who the kark knew how it really worked. With a final shake and a sigh Khal gave it back to Loxa.

"I still think you ought to throw it in the ocean." Now with a grin before he gestured to her. "Let's go. We are almost to the settlement. Then it's only a short trip to the spaceport and my ship. You are probably starving."

She looked like she was anyway.
 

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