Private I'm Not Drowning, No Need To Save Me

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

How long had she been in this place? Constantly in some kind of pain, tested on too frequently. Really, between the blacking out and torture, she had no time to question things such as how she got here, or how to get out.

Currently, she was writhing after another sample of DNA was sawed off her leg. Whimpering, she flexed her four fingers as she wished to faint once again. Sadly, that luxury was not upon her yet.

Footsteps approached. She looked up. Through the blinding lights, she recognized her father. The person who trapped her here.

"Gwyneira Craft."

Gwyn continued to struggle. She grimaced in pain as she moaned, "Father..."

The Arkanian reached up and brushed some of his long hair behind his ear, "You know, Gwyneira, we chose two different feilds of science. You studied to become an engineer, somehow. And I, a pure Arkanian of high prestige, chose to become a geneticist."

Despite everything, Gwyn had to roll her eyes at his tone and wording.

Of course, this angered the man. He lifted his hand and slapped her cheek. Gwyn closed her eyes in recoil. This was far from the worst pain she had experienced here, but it was a sudden shock. "You scoff at everything you should have aspired to be?! Failed to be?! You rotten, ungrateful brat!"

Gwyn kept her eyes closed, quivering in fear. This was the first time the icy cold man had raised his voice at her here.

"As a geneticist, I knew I needed to do everything I could to help my beautiful race to prevail. Yet, Arkania has been so caught up in their politics they have been willing to abandon our scientific superiority so other, lesser species would not be upset at our so called lack of morality. That would not do for me."

The sound of something being brought in on a hovering platform caught her attention. She opened her eyes and tried to, but the binds prevented her from craning her head.

"Illegal? Yes. I became an underground geneticist on some backwater dwarf planet to aid my people." He chuckled a bit, sounding excited as he admitted, "I never have been able to test what I'm about to do like this, however. I am quite excited. Altering the DNA of a host like this."

He smiled bitterly, "Lesser kind, you do not deserve to be so Arkanian."

He clasped his hands together, announcing loudly as Gwyn winced her eyes shut, "Let us begin!"

The sound of machinery whirling made her want to hide. Yet, she could only close her eyes. Even that luxury was taken from her though, as her eyes were pried open with metal medical equipment. The sight she opened her eyes to - a needle being lowered towards her face.

Down the hallway, the guards heard a blood curdling scream of agony.

She screamed, throwing the blankets off and leaping out of the bed. She grabbed her eyes, bawling and roaring in excruciation.

It was quite a while until she came to once again. Laying on the floor of her living quarters, she was coated in sweat and panting heavily. Heart pounding, she was still holding her eyes. She recognized that she could see, however. And she recognized the unique connection of her cybernetic leg to her flesh.

Right. She had not been in that lab in a while now. She was free.

So why was she still chained to the memories?

Shivering, she huddled into the fetal position and cried some more. She called to her buir, she coo'd her cyare's name. She yearned for comfort. Eventually, the door opened and a familiar figure rolled up to her. Her astromech, Mini, was doing his best to console her.

It took a while, but eventually Gwyneira got ahold of herself. She loathed sleeping for this reason. She loathed reliving it all. She found that hot showers always relaxed her, so she weaseled into the refresher and took one. She usually removed her cybernetic leg for this, but she did not want to feel the pain of removing it again. And so, she huddled at the bottom of the shower, letting the hot water soothe her and the heavy steam wrap her in comfort. As the water ran, Mini spoke gently in binary.

He was once again telling her she needed to see a shaman.

No. No, Gwyn was too busy with so many other things. Why would she waste time sitting in an office with a shaman speaking vague words or offering weird chants? Still, the few times she got to sleep now, that sleep was riddled with night terrors. She was worried so much about Kranak Vizsla and Eliz Krayt. How could she look after them when she was failing to care for herself? She groaned, leaning her head against the shower wall. It... it was time...

The Tauntaun soon landed outside a small town. Kestri had more settlements than just the grand underground city of Tor Valum. The village of Resa was a secluded and simplistic settlement. Many lanterns coated the streets of the mountainside hamlet. Homes of hearth, made of crafted woods and stones, gave Gwyneira a feeling more akin to the fair Force enhanced forests of the Netherworld. It was... beautiful.

Walking through the village, currently being graced with a soft dusting of dancing snowfall, Gwyneira was admiring the artistic integrity and culture of the town. Rustic and hand crafted, the cabins and roads were a delight to the eyes. Gwyn already felt a sense of peace here.

When she rounded a corner and approached the round house, however, she once again felt on edge. She paused at the entrance of the three story shamanic house. She once again doubted being here. Her footsteps swayed back and forth in the snow. Fully clothed in her beskar'gam, the Mandalorian felt like she was entering a battle. But why? Why was she so wary of seeing a shaman? Did her trust issues run so deep?

She gulped nervously and approached the building. With the twitchy nerves of a skittish cat, she reached out and knocked on the door.

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

The large, wooden doors to the Briirud swung open slowly letting in the cold and expelling the heat from within that washed over their latest visitor. A man dressed in furs stood in the doorway with his brown eyes on Gwyneira. Over his shoulder, the troubled woman could make out a tall and wide corridor that extended to another set of large doors, which were already open. A few people crossed the wooden corridor; most, however, were attending class, taking a meal, or otherwise engaged. At the far end, through those doors between the lamps, torches, and pillars too wide to wrap one's arms around fully, a fire could be seen burning.

"The Speaker awaits." The man stepped back and turned aside to gesture for Gwyneira to enter the Briirud. "Shall I have a Hibir," a student, "bring you something to drink?" Provided the woman entered, the Chaaj -- Ranger -- would see the doors shut behind her and prepare to escort her deeper into the heart of the round house. Their guest appeared on edge; it rarely aided the process to give them vague directions and leave them to their own devices. A little company along the way often helped.

Those that wandered about the interior might spare Gwyn a glance, but otherwise did not crowd nor intrude upon her presence. They all understood (or were told, at least) some that came seeking aid did so with great effort and reluctance. They would be shown to a Y'ivra or Gtinarah -- a 'Master' -- to delve into their troubles and see what assistance their humble community might offer; whether that was for a short or long term varied considerably person by person.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyneira followed, appearing on edge the entire time. She refused the offer for a drink, instead trying to calm herself by observing the building's architecture and art. She paid way more attention to the building itself than the people. She gazed upon the walls, art pieces, furnishing, the likes. It gave off a mixed feeling of... calm and institutional. It was quite strange.

The man eventually guided Gwyn to a room where she was told to wait. The young woman sat down in the seat and sighed. Alright then...

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Gwyn was guided to the central room in fact. A trek that took her between large beams of solid, natural wood meticuously cut, sanded, and strained in traditional methods. Art consisted of tribal, rustic, or naturalist works including suits of armor, masks, totems, and some renditions of nature. The only weapons on display were of pole arms, physical blades, and staves. Not a single blaster adorned the walls.

Once before the fire, the young woman was offered a cushion on the floor. Her guide bowed his head slightly and casually drifted back the way he'd come.

After several seconds the sound of foot steps intruded upon the Briirud's guest's senses; and that of the large doors quietly groaning as they were closed. The owner of those feet would become apparently shortly if Gwyn managed to refine from looking on her own; the Shaman wearing a cloak of many, dark feathers gave Gwyn a wide berth until she was in sight to reduce the sensation of someone sneaking up on her. The avian helm she sported in battle was absent, as was often the case unless combat was expected.

"Jate o'," the dark haired woman welcomed followed by a small smile. Runi found a cushion off to Gwyn's left before the fire and settled into it. "I am Runi Kuryida. It is a pleasure to share our roof with you." The Shaman paused there to see how Gwyn would respond. Monologuing at your guests was quite rude, after all.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

The combination of Force Sense and her cybernetic eyes allowed for Gwyneira to pick up on the shaman's presence even before her footsteps sounded. Looking up to the feather crowned Force User, Gwyneira took her calming words in. With a small nod, she offered a pleasant smile from beneath her visor, <"Gwyneira Krayt. Thank you. The architecture is wonderful.">

Yes, she just complimented the architecture a couple minutes into conversation. There was a hint of passion in her voice, a special interest she devoured.

After that moment, she looked away. She had... no idea what to do now. She looked back to Runi and nervously chuckled.

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

The Shaman had a small smile and stood patiently for a moment as Gwyn responded.

Runi then stepped forward toward the fire to kneel down before it. "I hope you are comfortable, Gwyneira Krayt." Doubtful, of course. Unsurprising. Many often felt trepidation coming there; not because any strange stories swirled about the Mandokarla, but because few of a proud warrior culture wanted to admit anything was wrong. It was quite simply why Resa existed -- out of sight from the masses, cut off from the every day distractions, and with the expectation anything shared stayed in strict confidence.

"It is exceptional work by local craftsmen and women," she acknowledged regarding the architecture. "One of the few things that would ever leave these walls -- a compliment for their hard work and skill." A roundabout means of implying the confidence existed without 'getting straight to business.' "Have you a mind for such things, Gwyneira? Architecture." As natural an ice-breaker as any, and Runi was far from impatient.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn beamed, excitement shining through, "Oh yes! Any form of art, really! Paintings, architecture, clothing, makeup, music, machinery and engineering. All point to the uniqueness of cultures and people's personalities!"

She motioned to the Mandalorian shapes within the room, rectangular and diamond, "One of the things I absolutely adored in my studies when I first became a Foundling was studying Mandalorian art and culture. Kriff, I wish I could have seen Sundari in its prime! Tor Valum is so rich with the structures and engineering of everything distinctly Mandalorian. The iron heart engraved in square buildings, statues and murals, our Clan emblems and Mandalorian symbols..."

She leaned back - only to remember that the pillow had no back like a chair! She extended her hand, using the Force to grab an archway telekinetically to stop her fall. She sat back up, letting go of the arch and sheepishly chuckling. She pulled some hair behind her ear, "So yeah! I really like this place."

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi's eyes followed Gwyn's direction around the room as she spoke. As she mulled over a desire to have seen Sundari in its prime, the Shaman's gaze turned back to the young woman nearby. Yes, the temporal manifestations of the past often were alluring. Some were as wondrous as tales told. Some were merely romanticized versions from people wishing to exaggerate their glory. It was good to hear that Gwyn was not trapped by a desire to see merely what was, but would appreciate what is as well.

When Gwyn nearly toppled, the Shaman remain motionless and kept her features held in place. Gwyn already seemed embarrassed enough by the forgetfulness. Part of why chairs rarely found themselves inside the Heart of the Briirud, in fact. This was not a place of comfort, but of study -- of practice physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Chairs were for places one need not be alert to their own being; places of relaxation.

"You are welcome to return any time, Gwyneira. Those of Craft work in the Village and are often willing to train others in their Trade." There was more to Resa than merely seeking a Shaman's counsel. Some found an enduring residency there. Provided they were not merely seeking to hide from their inner demons, Runi did not chase people away. Not many found the allure of a simpler life appealing, however; but passing through? Those of a Craft did not mind selling directly at times.

"What has brought you here, to the Mandokarla, today, Gwyneira? We could speak of hand-wrought creations into the dawn, but I sense you sought something else." The woman was troubled. Runi could sense that setting foot into the room. Before that even, but it became clearer once Gwyn was in sight. Hopefully, she would be forthcoming in explaining what she sought -- that she recognized her own need on some level.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Ah, yes, why she was here...

Gwyn nodded, looking towards the ground. She sighed, starting to twiddle her thumbs. After a long moment, she spoke.

"About a year ago, my biological father captured me and subjected me to... experiments."

She shivered, started to feel phantom pain in her leg, "I still have nightmares."

She closed her eyes, willing a memory to the forefront of her mind "Look in my mind. See for yourself."

She panted heavily, sweat dripping down her pale face. She had screamed so much. Crying out for Eliz, though she knew he was dead. Calling for Kranak, though she knew he would not hear her. At last the inflictions were over, but her body trembled in agony. She winced as voices swirled around her. These blinding lights were becoming all she knew. In the distance, she heard two clearer voices.

"Vial seven point eighteen is ready. He really went all out on the test subject, did he not?"

"Arkanian offshots and hybrids deserve just as much. Oh, you can set it right over there."

"There we go. Yes, I agree that the genetic imperfections are abominable. But we found methods of use for even these..."

"Indeed. Now, take vial eleven point six and put it into the syringe."

"He told us to test it now?"

"Indeed. And monitor the results overnight."

"No rest for this weary soul. I almost pity the creature."

"Feel no pity. If we cannot test these on genetically similar creatures to our own great race, how will we release these medications to the public?"

"Indeed. We need test subjects better than animals. But only by a little. Here, it is ready."

"Good, good. Prepare the needle."

Hours passed with little sleep. The burning in her veins never stopped. Whatever this injection was, it hurt. Oh, it hurt so much...

She lay on the table, shakily breathing in and out. She was not being tortured, but she was still in terrible pain. Apparently, she deserved this. Simply for existing.

Gwyn opened her eyes again, tearful. She gulped and looked away in shame, "My deepest insecurities were in that place. My birth, my life, my worth... It still messes with my head. Daily."

She shook her head, looking up to the shaman, "I need help. I don't even know what I'm looking for but I hate these dreams. I can't sleep anymore!"

Runi

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi regarded the woman as she spoke of nightmares and offered one for sharing. The Shaman's hazel eyes never closed, nor did they blink in the span it took to take in her vision of events past. Pain and suffering of a kind were not new to her, so there was no need to live it personally; the recollection, sights, and sounds were enough. No, she well understood the trauma that had been inflicted upon Gwyn. It seemed to happen quite often of late to those the Shaman kept watch over.

"And these dreams," Runi replied calmly, "what have you done in response to them? What steps have you gone through to suppress or ignore them? I feel there is a great deal of emotional entanglement in these memories -- and not merely from having endured them. I want to help you, Gwyneira, but you are going to need to speak of and recall things you would rather forget ever happened. Are you prepared for such an ordeal?"

A request for help was important, but an understanding of what that help would entail... accepting that was equally important. This was not a matter dealt with by imbibing drink and singing around a fire. That could help, for a time, but the heart of her woe would need vanquished; and such battles were rarely clean or enjoyable.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn grimaced. She really hated looking back at... she shuddered, looking away. Might as well jump into it, no use in stalling.

"The person who did that to me was my father. Not buir, my biological sire."

She made another face, "He despised his half breed spawn, and wanted to find a long and useful way to dispose of it..."

She shuddered, hugging herself as she uncomfortably shifted her legs, "I'm half Arkanian. And like Arkanian offshots, Arkanian purists don't take kindly to our existence... and I grew up in an Arkanian purist culture."

She sighed, tearing up. She forced herself to remember her childhood as her voice cracked, "My human mother hardly spared a glance at me. I had to educate and feed and clothe myself as a child. When I went to the Arkanian Academy to gain an engineering degree, the teachers shunned me and the students stayed away from me. It-I... I never belonged. I only began to belong when the Enclave found me."

She looked back to Runi, rubbing her teary eyes, "But my father, the one who disowned me twice, found me and caught me. Took me to that Force forsaken lab, and-!"

She paused, shaking. She reached up and tapped a cybernetic eye, causing it to dilate. Her cybernetic leg felt phantom pain from her flesh being sliced off. "My eyes, my leg, the needles and valves. The tests, the procedures, the cuts, the elixir baths, the..."

She was went on and on, recalling the expiraments as much as she hated to. Went into details. The tests of different drugs, medicines, and substances to see her reactions. The Arkanian and human DNA inside her toyed with and shuffled. The terrifying horrors and evil things. How the scientists and especially her father mocked her, scorned her, abused her, and told her she deserved it for her very birth.

It had probably been an hour, or minutes, Gwyn could not tell. But she gushed everything all out, seldom taking a breath, before finally panting as she finished. And she cried. She held her eyes, her leg twitched. She moaned as she curled up, throat scratchy and hoarse.

Okay, Runi knew.

Now, to see if reliving her terror was worth it.

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

No matter how long Gwyn needed to tell her tale of suffering and woe, the fire at the center of the circular room burned brightly. Every now and then the Shaman would slowly and briefly poke the combustibles within the ring, but otherwise the flames did not distract. Runi's hazel eyes stayed with her guest, though no sound accompanied or even bid the woman to continue. It seemed Gwyn had no need for encouragement despite the topic at hand. Perhaps she had a circumstance at last in which she could recount everything that had happened. There were many things people often wanted to confide in others, but feared how it would be received or whether it would be held in confidence. It was pleasing to find such worries had not sealed the woman's lips.

Given the detail the woman had gone to in describing her horrifying experience, any thought of having her 'face' her father or any other aspect of her... incarceration was meaningless except to torment Gwyn further. In fact, the most therapeutic thing Runi felt she could offer her guest had already taken advantage of -- talking about it. That wasn't all the Shaman had, but it was certainly the most important. Nothing else would matter if Gwyn couldn't find it in herself to face what had happen. Not merely suffer from it, but acknowledge it in full without hiding from how painful it had been on every level.

"What you suffered -- What you survived -- was some of the most terrifying and demeaning horrors any sentient can inflict upon another, Gwyneira. Never forget, however, that you did survive. They wanted to rob you of your will to live; as long as you do, you can claw back what they thought to keep from you."

The Shaman drew in a breath and glanced to the side with a slight nod.

"I will have someone bring a brew of herbs that will help you on this journey. What you must do is find those your trust and keep them close. Confide in them. Believe in them. And they will believe in you; support you when you need them as you rebuild from what was done."

Runi's hazel eyes regarded Gwyn with that said, curious what her reaction would be. It likely wasn't the sort of news someone in her position would want to hear, but it was the truth. Were there other options? Perhaps. If she asked then the Shaman might be forced to contend with them.

Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn was shaking as she finished speaking. She was paler than she already was, sweating. There was phantom pain in her leg, and her eyes as well. She was feeling the prickles of needles, and the side effects of so many serums. Circles under her eyes, she was rocking back and forth as Runi spoke.

The herbs were all in good, but the other part? Gwyn made a face. She thought of her loved ones, and their own battles. Kranak's depression, Eliz's spotty memories, Vulcan and how she wanted to protect him She grimaced, looking away from the shaman.

"They're all fighting their own battles. They don't need me thrown into it as well."

Runi Kuryida

 

[Runi Kuryida]

"Gwyneira Krayt," Runi's lidless gaze hadn't wavered as the woman questioned sharing with others, "everyone has their own problems. Are you saying you would not be there if one of those you cared for and protected came to you, because of your own suffering?"

The Shaman hadn't expected Gwyn to be concerned for the well-being of those around her. While that was pleasant from where Runi sat, not being called into question as to her methods, what had been said might prove even more of a challenge. Obstacles to Gwyn seeking help would pose a serious risk to her long-term recovery. Isolating was not what she needed.

A figure slipped through the tall wooden doors to the chamber with a tray in one hand. Atop that platter sat a pot a two cups. Runi had sent a silent message for the drink that might help ease Gwyn's nerves. The recounting of her horrors had left the woman shaken; the sort of aggravation to a mental and spiritual wound that would make rational thought difficult. Thankfully the brew was arriving in time to take the edge off of Gwyn's suffering.

Runi nodded wordlessly to the Ranger that drew near with the drink. They moved to kneel down between the women a little further back from the flame to begin pouring the herbal tea. Gwyn would get the first cup.

Gwyneira Vizsla