In Between Dreams So Sweet {Raaf}

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

"Breathing in the cold night air kept me alive. Watching the waves hit the shore kept me entertained. Wants and needs are two different things. But in a place like this, they let one thing become clear to me: Like ships on the sea, we're finally free. From the darkness and the madness, along with all the chaos of the worlds. And even though there are enemies on the sea, people and beings who want no more then to kill us, we are free. Demons have no hold on the waves, for they run where they wish, pushed by nature and nothing less. I guess you could say the waters have been blessed, gifted with the ability to escape to fantasy while still being part of reality... all while holding this intense sort of beauty."​

-Drapeam Nyx during her stint at a base near the beach​

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"What the *BEEP* do you mean you can't *BEEP*ing do *BEEP*? I thought you were a *BEEP*ing Jedi healer or some *BEEP* like that?!?" A gentle sigh was the only response Drapeam Nyx received. With a scowl she went to sit up... only to find her body still to sore to move much. She groaned, biting back a few choice swear words. Today was an especially rough day. All the Sith Poison in her veins almost felt like it was burning. As if it was turning her blood to acid. Moving made it even worse. So far the woman besides her had been able to do little to help. Just explain the options available. There was, apparently, a good chance that the Zorren was going to die no matter what. That she was just going to drop dead because someone shoved a needle in her eye. Even if all of the horrid liquid was removed, many of the side effects were likely to stay.​

​

They'd probably never go away. That honestly terrified her. Yes, this tall (six foot) ex-Blackblade soldier was horrified at the prospect of living with this. If it didn't kill her... well, she was a Zorren who had undergone a Trial. Which meant she could live up to five thousand years long. Five hundred centuries of this did not sound pleasant at all. It was this fear that brought her to her old enemies in the first place. Why else would she visit the Jedi Order?... They were her only option. No other groups were as versed in the art of healing as this one (or at least that's what Nyx had been taught). If there were any who could rid her of her burden it was them. More importantly they were the most willing to do so.​

​

Oh, a member of the Protectorate is in need of assistance? Why, of course we'll help! We're Jedi! We're totally great and we just love making people feel better! Nyx didn't like force users. Not since everything the Sith did to her. All of that torture messed with her head. You combine that with needing someone to blame for all the wars she had to fight in... Well. I think you know where this is going. But there were still some members of the 'bathrobe brigade' who she thought were at least semi-decent people. Those who focused as much on bettering the galaxy as they did on bettering themselves. People who only fought when necessary, those who defended those who couldn't defend themselves. So, in many ways, people who were the exact opposite of herself.​

​

Sounds about right.​

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"Miss Nyx, there's only so much we can do. Whoever poisoned you... they did a really good job of it. We'll do the best we can but I can't make any promises. Especially so early in the treatment process." Dr. Lydia Stone was a Jedi healer. She had dedicated her entire life to curing diseases, saving the sick, and stopping plagues. If anyone was going to get our swear-addicted friend to open up... it was probably her. "I'm going to try and help you, okay? I need you to work with me though. Do your best to relax. This may take a few hours..." Step one of the process was being initiated. Nyx would fall asleep while her new 'friend' helped her out. Letting someone do this was... difficult for her. What if Stone betrayed her?!? What if someone didn't like the idea of a reformed Imperial woman being treated her?!? What if what if what if! It was a very good thing that she lost consciousness early on. Her anxieties melted away into a clear state of mind... for the most part.​

​

When she awoke Stone had left, a short note in her place. Nyx had slept for nearly a day. Her doctor was going to come back in a few hours to check up on her. In the meantime she was allowed to get something to eat. Besides that she was supposed to 'relax'. Boy, the doc sure loved that phrase. Just relax honey! Is all gonna be good, so just sit back, chill out, and relax. We're all gonna be ju-ust fi-i-ine! Slight exaggeration. With somewhat of a heavy sigh the redhead sat up. To her surprise the burning sensation had greatly dulled. Maybe this was working?... 'Don't get your hopes up...' she thought to herself. Pessimism was her strong point. Believing in others wasn't.​

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Meanwhile Stone was having a cup of tea while discussing her newest patient with a few other Masters. Some warned her to be cautious. Others were simply happy to hear that she was still working so hard. They did, of course, know that breaks were important. But there's so much for Docs to do... News of Nyx traveled fast. Was she important? Not much. Was it interesting to have someone who used to work with the worst of the Sith around? Hell *BEEP*ing yeah. There was enough interest in her that the amount of visitors she was allowed was severely limited. Only those with a good reason to speak to her were admitted. In addition they had to have Nyx's permission and be over 16 years old. Why? You heard her earlier! That girl has a pretty colorful vocabulary!​

[member="Corvus Raaf"]​

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"What little life we live between our dreams, so sweet, is nothing in comparison to this existence. There is nothing we can't do- but nothing we can do that lives on for all eternity. Our lives, our reality, is nothing more then a footnote, if even that. A speck of nothingness within a universe of infinities. So why? Why all of this? Look in the mirror. Close your eyes. Think of everything you've ever experienced. Would you throw it away simply because it means nothing to the rest of the worlds? Even though it meant something to you? To those who shared those moments with you?... The answer is no. What little life we live between our dreams is so sweet. It's our own personal set of infinities and we should not give those up. Ever."​

-Drapeam Nyx, age 17, unaware of the cameras recording.​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Did she look like a healer? Or even a diplomat? So why was she meeting this patient? She supposed it had something to do with her role as HeadMaster of the Ossus Academy. Yes – that would explain it. And she’d had first hand experience of Sith poisons following Knight [member="Kana Truden"]’s situation on Zeltros.

The Academy on Ossus was built to replace the lost temple on Yavin 4 and was located between a large mountain ridge and a deep valley. It had been destroyed and rebuilt on more than on occasion but every time she looked at it, she couldn’t help but feel goose-bumps. It used to be for what it meant. Now it was because someone foolishly left her in charge of the place. Who was that? Oh yes, the GrandMaster.

So she strode from the hangar and smoothed her robes as she headed between the two pyramids and glanced at the block of reflective transparisteel that housed the Garden Level. Similar to the Room of a Thousand Fountains on Coruscant, the room houses Ossan plants and waterfalls. After the conception of the Ossus Project, the room was also used to test Yuuzhan Vong plant life.

Passing the Clarity Gate, a trapezoid shaped arch that fronts a courtyard decorated with a fountain that forms the entrance to the grounds, she paused to meditate (as was customary) before passing into the rest of the complex.

Connected to the courtyard were many halls including the Academy’s administration building and more specifically for today, Cilghal’s laboratory which was connected with the infirmary. It was a large chamber with several monitors that analyzed anything from bodily functions of a myriad list of different species to samples of alien fungus.

The final part of her journey took her through the academy grounds, down a winding and meandering path known as the Crooked Way. Past shrubbery and vistas the path was designed to force visitors to slow down and concentrate on the gardens. Jedi never believed on rushing. It was almost a mantra now that a Jedi is never late. They always arrive at precisely the time they planned to. At least that’s what Master [member="Kian Karr"] used to say. She never truly believed him.

And finally she arrived where the patient had been placed. She’d been under sedation and was just coming around. Before Corvus could reach the bed, a Padawan Healer bowed and spoke. “Master Raaf, I ought to let you know…”

Corvus bowed in return, “No worries, I’m used to being gentle around patients.”

The Padawan looked slightly apologetic. “It’s not that Master. It’s just…her language. It’s a little…colourful.” The Padawan blushed and made a rather quick exit.

Corvus smiled. She’d fought gangs on Nar Shaddaa. She was used to the occasional cuss.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

Occasional was a loose term. In this case... it didn't quite describe her choice of vocabulary. Not even close. But at least she was one to place her swears properly. Some people just threw them into their sentences. "Oh *BEEP*ing you're a *BEEP* piece of *BEEP*ing *BEEP*". That sort of thing. Where the words just aren't in the right order. That sort of thing always irked Nyx. If you were going to swear far more than necessary you should at least make sure the rest of your speech is correct. Sure, there are going to be people who will hate you either way. There are those who won't care that you've perfected grammar. They'll focus on the fact that you've chosen to curse their ears off. Maybe the way she felt about this was because of the way she had been raised. Dromund Kaas was a pretty serious planet. Sophistication was their cup of tea. Even those who added 'color' to their conversations typically put them in their 'proper' places. Nyx had been raised to be endlessly polite. Only those who had wronged her- or her family- were to be treated with anything other than respect. And while the lessons she was taught have obviously faded from her mind... some old habits of hers are still dying. As they always seem to do. It goes without saying that her usage of choice words is far from 'occasional'. This was something that a certain Jedi Master was going to learn very soon. Probably the hard way.​

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A groan passed pale lips. The burning sensation still ran through her every time she moved. To say it was irritating... was a deep understatement. Getting around would prove to be difficult for her. 'Maybe this whole bed rest thing isn't that bad after all...' she thought, sitting up. After reading the note a second time she started looking around the room. Apparently she had been moved in her sleep. Part of her found that... troublesome. After all she had gotten so used to the last one- memorized it's entry and exit points, the exact color of the tiles, and where all important items were. But here?... Here was different. Felt a little homier. Like it was supposed to relax her. Instead the whole place managed to put her even farther on edge. Reminding her of her home, which it (potentially unintentionally) did, was never a good thing. Dromand Kaas had been horrific. Not always, of course, but there were some moments she'd never forget. With a shudder she reached out to the night stand/counter thingamajig. On top of it was a tray of some sort of food. Looked a lot better than regular hospital stuff (which the girl was far to used to). That was certainly a plus. There was an unfortunate issue though: The tray was just out of her reach. Fearing the pain that came with getting up, Nyx did her best to stretch for it. Something inside her, something she did not know about, stirred, slithering out of her, grasping the object she desired so much. It moved the last centimeter "on it's own" into her hands. She didn't notice. She simply assumed she had managed to get it.​

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Pleased with herself she leaned back against the headrest. One hand lazily picked up the spoon she had been provided, turning the tool over to inspect it. Nothing unusual. Why would there be? It was just an eating utensil. God, Nyx is weird. The Zorren minded her claws while she scooped up some... soup? She was pretty sure it was soup. Looked like it. Smelled like it too. So with a shrug she lifted it up, figuring soup was soup, and tasted it. That's when she panicked. Because her advanced senses picked up on an all-to-familiar spice. Now, there wasn't anything wrong with that flavor. It simply reminded her of the last time she encountered it. Twenty five years ago on Dromand Kaas the Nyx family had just sat down for dinner... A smaller, scrawnier Drapeam (she still went by her first name back then) sat at the head of a table. Across from her was an important Imperial diplomat. The man smiled eerily at her. His reasons for being here were quite clear to her. All of the Nyxai* in the past had been great assets of the Empire. Some had been Generals, Emperors, or powerful Sith Lords. Once one of them had even managed to be the Dark Lord's right hand man. So this individual was here to see where one of the few remaining Nyx children might end up. He was here to watch her. Test her. See what her talents could be used for. Quietly Drapeam had raised her spoon to her mouth, tasting the meal her 'mother' (her father's newest wife, one perhaps only ten years her senior) had prepared. Ah. That's where the spice had become so important to her. Not because the soup was particularly good or bad. In fact it was rather... okay. Stuck in the middle of the grey zone. But no, it wasn't the food that stuck this memory in her head. It's what happened next.​

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Three blaster bolts ripped through the dining room's window. One broke the glass. Another smacked into the wall behind the diplomat. The third?... It hit him right in the center of his worn-down face. Mrs. Nyx screamed. Her husband stood up and tried to get out of the way of any more blasterfire, though none came. A few others gathered started running about. Drapeam was the one to actually do something. Quickly she grabbed a rifle from a stunned guard's hands, moving over to the broken glass. There was a building across from their household. One who had a roof at just the right angle... With a frown she looked through her scope for any signs of the shooter. Meanwhile the guards were starting to look down the area. Their captain yelled for someone to check the surrounding compounds. None of it was going to do anything. But what Drapeam did... that would change things. She had aimed her sights at the only person visible. They, like her, appeared to be aiming a sniper rifle. How did she get the upper hand then? Well, you see... whoever the shooter was having a bad time. His gun (as authorities would later discover) was malfunctioning. Jamming. Otherwise, perhaps, he would have killed the most important of the Nyx children instead of being killed himself. The story ends there. With a bolt crashing into a bad man's cranium, ending him the way he had just ended another. That had been the first time Drapeam had taken a life. It hadn't been the last. Only one 'good' thing came out of the situation: She was given a nickname. Something other soldiers would one day refer to her as. Helped with 'bonding' and that sort of thing. They called her Boomshot queen.​

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"Holy *BEEP*ing mother of *BEEP*ing God, what the *BEEP*?... This *BEEP* is... *BEEP*, man..." She mumbled, unaware of the Jedi master coming her way. Nah, she was far more focused on angrily dropping her spoon. A scowl formed on her lips as she looked over the rest of the food. Eating that soup was not something she planned on doing. At least there were a few other things on the tray for her to try... She just hoped that the spice wasn't a popular one around here.​

[member="Corvus Raaf"]​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Corvus was aware that the woman was waking up. The groan was a dead giveaway. Of course, the use of ‘dead’ when referring to a potentially terminally ill patient wasn’t the best form – but there was no malice intended.

And then she sat up. Well that was promising. And Corvus noticed the outstretched hand that reached for the soup. Before she could help, the patient had pulled it to her using the Force. It was a crude effort and a few drops spilled, but Corvus put it down to the woman’s physical condition. And she started to eat the soup with a spoon that she’d examined as if it were some alien artefact. As far as Corvus could tell it was a standard galactic spoon. It wasn’t like it had the Jedi logo stamped on it or anything.

She made a mental note. Have canteen cutlery embossed. Nice touch, eh?

She was shaken out of her thoughts by what could only be described as a series of expletives. Her brain processed the dialogue without the cussing to ascertain what the patient was saying.

“You’re on Ossus,” Corvus offered, by way of explanation, her voice calm and low. More than a whisper but gentler than normal speech. “And it’s soup. I can get you a different flavour if you’d prefer?” She smiled as politely as she could and braced herself for the reply.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

Spoons could be very dangerous. You had to be careful with them.​

Always.​

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"Kriffing faulty utensil..." she murmered after dropping said spoon. It had landed awkwardly, causing a bit of the soup to splash up, hitting her in the face. Angrily (as always) she wiped the hot liquid from her face. Wasn't nearly as painful as the not-acid in her blood. Just a bit... irritating. After taking a moment to mentally cuss out the food she investigated the rest of the items on her tray. There was some bread (possibly made for dipping in the soup), a couple pieces of fruit, and some sort of juice. Perking one brow she sniffed the drink... and found out it was her favorite. "Glad they got some druk right around this karking-" She noticed the Jedi Master in that moment. Another string of curses left her lips in rapid succession. When had the woman arrived?!? How long had she been there?!? Why hadn't Nyx noticed her come in?!? That was quite worrying for the redhead. Enough so that it took her a few moments to realize that [member="Corvus Raaf"] had spoken. Her initial response was to squint slightly and raise her brows again. No duh they were on Ossus! That's where most, if not all, of the best Jedi healers were when they weren't out fighting plagues 'n stuff. But after a moment she simply nodded, going back to a semi-blank expression.​

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For a couple seconds she simply looked the Jedi over. After all, someone's appearance could tell a lot about them. Not their skin color or body structure (unless we're talking species). No, it was what they wore, how they stood, how they moved, that mattered. As far as she could tell this woman carried herself well. Obviously she had a healthy amount of self-respect or was at least smart enough to pretend to. Nothing about her suggested an inflated ego, which was also good. Instead the Jedi seemed to be quite... okay. There wasn't anything especially special about her- at least as far as Nyx could tell. Which was why she wondered what exactly the woman was doing here. Was she another person wondering about the Sith?... Prior to her treatment the Zorren had quite a few people trying to ask her questions. Dr. Stone had been forced to usher them out of the room. Which raised another question... who gave this person permission to be here? Was she simply in a position of power? Did she just decide that it was okay for her to come in? Hmm... All possibilities. But as of now that's all they were. Different explanations that were neither denied or confirmed. It was time to ask a few questions. Just after taking a sip of this juice...
It was good juice.​

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"It's fine. Shavit just reminds me of... Never crinking mind. None of yer business. Whatcha doing here anyway? Here to krong things up and ask me shab about the snarking Sithspit Empire?" Nyx asked before taking a bite out of her bread. It was good bread. Not as good as the juice, but still good. Way, way better than the soup, that's for sure...​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

[SIZE=10pt]Corvus mused the reaction to her presence. It wasn’t…standard. Criminals cussed and then at least did something. Jedi tended to show at worst a modicum of respect. She wished she’d shown greater interest in the patient’s background before coming in here. She wasn’t from the Order so was most likely from an ally’s Force-sensitive group. But which one. Getting these minor details wrong tended to anger people for no logical reason.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]And the patient still seemed to be showing an undue amount of interest in the spoon. Perhaps she was a collector? Corvus could offer to allow her to take it home if she’d like? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Corvus lowered her defences. The challenge of having a high level of Empathy is that, unchecked, she was overwhelmed by emotions. Even in a desert, she’d find the input too great. So a hospital ward was a dangerous place to do this, but she felt the risk justifiable. She closed her eyes momentarily and immediately the barrier was dropped and raised again. This woman was suffering more than the rest of the patients put together. It was a wonder she was able to endure the discomfort.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Corvus now understood where the expletives were coming from (or rather she thought she did – how wrong can you be?). [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Well at least the patient was looking at her now – that was an improvement. Corvus smiled and then snapped her face back to a neutral expression. She ran the risk of looking like an inane puppy-dog if she wasn’t careful! For Corvus felt the woman’s eyes were appraising her. Judging her even. Maybe deciding if she were worthy of dialogue perhaps?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]And then she spoke. May the Force be praised…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Corvus smiled again – she just couldn’t help herself. “I’m Corvus.” She decided that starting low and working her way up might be a better approach than coming in too high and mighty. “I’m a Jedi here.” Well, she wasn’t lying. “Shavit is an acquired taste. Can’t stand it myself, but there you go. And I’m here to see how you’re faring.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The Sith Empire? So that’s why she was asked to be here. For an Order that didn’t tell lies, we’re a devious bunch at times…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“So tell me, if I could change the order for the evening meal, what would you like?”[/SIZE]

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

So Jedi could make jokes... Or at least Nyx assumed that her visitor was trying to be humorous. Was trying the right would? After all, the redhead did have to stifle a chuckle. It was, however, a bit hard to tell that she did. Years spent with her guardians monitoring her every move forced her to hide her more 'unsavory' feelings. At times that meant her joy and amusement. Attempting to not laugh had generally turned into not laughing whatsoever. Yay for parents. Cue heavy sarcasm. Now, let's return to the story at hand: Nyx listened quietly to the Jedi- who apparently was named Corvus- as she spoke. Every once in a while she'd take a nibble out of her bread or take a sip of her juice. These little movements were necessary. Anything more would be more pain then she wanted to experience right now. She could totally handle it though! Yes, she really does need to confirm that. Has to keep up that tough soldier image. Of course... the heavily scarred body and black eye kind of did that already. Add in her species' claws... well, I think you get the point. In quite a few different ways she was an intimidating woman. But when you put her in a hospital bed after pumping her full of Sith Poison.... Nyx lost 90% of her scary factor. The last 10% was removed when you handed her a glass of a fruity drink. What? She likes fruit juice. Who doesn't like fruit juice? Weirdos, that's who.​

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"My name's Drapeam Nyx. But you'll call me Nyx." She said it as if doing otherwise would be like signing your life away. Perhaps, for some, it was. Maybe the girl had killed people for daring to call her by her first name before. It would be interesting to know what others thought of her desire to be called by her last name. The real reason why was one even she wasn't sure of. And what happened to those who called her Drapeam? Well... they simply lost 95% of the respect she might have had for them. 'Might' being the key word. "As for dinner... Bread and juice will work." She left it at that. What else was there to say anyway? Nothing really, at least not at the moment.​

{OOC: Excuse the short/low-quality post. Really under-the-weather right now. Just wanted to try and get a post done anyway. Hopefully it makes some sense.}​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

There was no attempt at humour. Sometimes Corvus looked to be funny. It rarely (if ever) worked. But others seemed to find a lot of the stuff she didn't intend to be humorous as comedy gold.

Corvus suspected this was such an occasion. The patient was eating - which was positive - but she could feel the pain she was experiencing. Her natural reaction was to help, but figured this wouldn't be warmly received. There was an emotion of pride that was coming through loud and clear - and that was always fragile if not treated carefully.

"Welcome Nyx. Were you expecting to wake up here? If not, I can only apologise." The voice remained calm and friendly, as if she were speaking to a Youngling on their first day. And Corvus was pleased she'd been told how to address her. She'd committed countless faux-pas before by getting it wrong. But was it a naming convention or just a preferred name? Probably best not to ask just yet, eh?

"And bread and juice it is then. But to more pressing matters." Corvus moved closer to the bed. Slowly but a metre or so, to provide the symbolism of moving forward, of becoming closer. "Tell me about the poison." There was no please. And it wasn't spoken as an order but it was clear the subject was not optional.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]


(Loving the thread - stop worrying )

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

Poison. At last the motives at hand were revealed. Or had they been? Nyx was now pretty sure she knew why Corvus was here. But, of course, she is quite the paranoid she'buy'ce. No matter how intelligent she is... her mental state will always drag her down. Perhaps that is why she automatically assumed that the Jedi was hear to simply learn how to better defeat the Sith. Why would she honestly want to help anyway? So thinketh the Zorren...eth... There was a lot one could learn from her. Most of her life had been spent working for various Darths and Big Bad Dark Lords. Knowing how they ticked had become a sort of specialty for her. And, thanks to her 'glorious' family, she had spent many days figuring out how to kill every last one of them. For the most part she had been successful. A few times the Empire had even smiled politely at her, handed her a few tools, and told her to eliminate one of their own. With a tired heart she had done so. Killing force users was easy- you simply had to know how. But they did have their tricks. Their ways of tipping the scale back in their favor. Poison? Poison was one such way. It as the 'one' thing that even Drapeam Nyx did not know how to defeat. In many cases... only strong Jedi healers could rid someone of it. Even then it was bound to leave horrible scars.​

The Zorren already had more marks on her body than she liked.​

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"What the shagger do you want to know about it?" That came out bad. She sounded pissed, and the way her eyes narrowed didn't help. Even if the right one 'lagged' like it always did. The point is that she seemed to be very irritated by the question. Almost as if she was saying 'why the kriff do you want to know?' or 'everyone asks the same crinking things'. But that, for once, wasn't how she meant to say it. So she tried to remedy it. Just in her own way. Instead of apologizing or repeating her words calmly she just... said them in a different way. This time she was more specific. Not any less angry-sounding, unsurprisingly, but more specific. At least she tried. "I mean- ugh, krong, you know? Make better shivving inquiries. I ain't one of those fraking mind-readers or some chit like that. You gotta tell me what you want to know. Don't ask about the poison. Ask who made it, or how they made it, or where it was injected. That way I can actually be-..." Our near-canine mercenary paused. Was she about to say what she was about to say? Was she really going to relax a little? It felt weird. Her face scrunched up for a few moments. After taking a deep breath she adopted a 'neutral' expression and finished speaking.​

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"That way I can be of more assistance to you, Ms. Corvus." Quietly she crossed her arms, having set aside the tray for the time being. Now was, as far as she could tell, the time for an 'interrogation' of sorts. Having her mouth full of food would likely prove to hinder that. Plus she wasn't that hungry. Though Dr. Stone had helped quite a bit.. moving did still hurt. Eating was no exception to this. Maybe the poison had been designed to prevent her from getting daily sustenance? That would be a horrid way to go out. Just the sort of thing a mad Sith might want to do to someone. By golly... Nyx sure was glad that some days were better than others. Being sick was not fun either way, but having certain evenings be less pain-filled than others was a small blessing she was willing to acknowledge. The same went for her less talked about illnesses. Such as the PTSD. Today it almost seemed like only the villain in her veins was working hard. Everything else was taking a temporary break. Some people would smile at that, maybe even assume that it was because she was here, on Ossus, that she felt better. Perhaps the Jedi had helped her more than she was willing to admit. That was reasonable, correct?...​

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Back on Dromund Kaas there were days when it didn't rain as hard. Sometimes it didn't even rain at all.​

Why? Because that's simply the way the weather happened that day.​

Not because someone was or wasn't there.​

Not because the world was feeling extra happy or sad.​

Just because some days things are just better, or easier, then on other days.​

[member="Corvus Raaf"]​

{OOC: But I wrote that post half-asleep with a major headache in about five minutes... It didn't turn out anywhere near as grand as I had hoped. You deserve better, milady!}​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Corvus could almost hear the workings of Nyx’s mind. The pauses were too long to be attributable to just the pain she was enduring. But if she could identify the ‘what’ she certainly had no idea of the ‘why.’

Finally the expletives gave it away. The poison was a touchy subject. Painful, yes – but also a sore point it seems. Logic said she should be pleading for help – the amount of suffering she was putting up with. But that ‘pride’ thing was there again. It wasn’t the entire measure of the woman but it was certainly a contributing factor.

Now Corvus was never going to be a contender for Miss Galactic Republic Diplomat. Nor would she win prizes for her bedside manner. But Empathy was something she had more than her fair share of, and she used it now.

“Who made it will be important for our healers. And I’m sure they have equally sensible questions like where it was administered and how it feels. We sadly have experience of such poisons. Fortunately all have made a full recovery.”

“But my role here was to answer questions not ask them. But now you press me there are two things I have to know. Firstly, do you want to be helped? I don’t know if you came here of your own free will, so it is important that I ask. The second question is more personal. Personal to me at least. I have a close friend who was affected like this. She’s…very strong-willed and won’t talk about it. What I want to know is this…how does it affect you using the Force?” The looks on Corvus’ face spoke volumes for the concern she had for her friend – and by definition, her genuine worries for the woman who had been entrusted into her care.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

(No more apologies or I’ll slap you – poisoned or not)

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

She was here for a friend. It was, in a way, sickeningly sweet. This Jedi had come in hopes of learning how to better help her friend. Not to help the Zorren, no, of course not, but to help someone she actually knew. Generally Nyx would pretend that she wouldn't do the same thing. Assisting people wasn't something she was known for (though by now that much is probably obvious). In reality... there was little she wouldn't do to keep a friend going. No one would ever see her do so though. Or at least not many. Not because she preferred to do things in secret, though she does enjoy her privacy, but because there are so few who she cares for these days. In fact... Nyx couldn't think of a single person she'd even call an 'acquaintance'. Just quite a few 'allies' and 'coworkers'. Kind of sad, really. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it doesn't seem to bother her. Being alone actually seems to make her happy in most cases. We could spend days thinking about all the reasons this could be. Or we could simply accept it and hope an answer comes our way at some point. Let's go with the latter.​

​

Ahem. Usually when one asks a set of questions, the other people answer them in the order they were given. However, at times, a certain inquiry can be so... shocking that our attention goes immediately to it. In this case the mention of the force had Nyx squinting slightly. Why was that brought up? She wasn't force sensitive- or at least she didn't know she was- so why would she know anything about that? After a few moments she visibly relaxed. It's obvious, she thought, why Corvus would ask. When you spend a lot of time around crazy alchemists you learn a few things. Nyx was now assuming that her Jedi companion was following that trail of logic. C'mon, it's not like the Zorren was a member of any bathrobe brigade or anything! Nope. You'd never find her waving around a lightstick or telekilling any schuttas.... But you might, at some point, notice the way that her cigarettes light up before she even clicks her lighter. Or you'll catch her grabbing something just out of her reach, fingers suddenly finding themselves latched around it. She'd never realize it though. Maybe because she just doesn't want to.​

​

"I came here willingly. 'Spent a dozen years working to protect the Imperial people. Now that they're all ash and dust, I've been 'serving' the Protectorate. Gotta help people somehow. Having this shabing poison in my blood makes that harder to do." She paused, trying to look away. That only made her gaze fall upon the wall to her left. For a few moments her right eye would be fully visible in all of it's horrid 'glory'. No matter how her visitor reacted she stayed quiet, wondering how to turn her thoughts into words. Eventually she let out a quiet sigh. "I'm not one of them. Never really was. Sith were my bosses a few times. But I never liked 'em. It was the people- the citizens- that I fought for. That's still true. I'm not a Sith." With every word her voice seemed to get closer and closer to breaking. Yet it somehow managed to stay complete. A couple more seconds passed before she answered the Jedi's personal question. "That's hard to say. Honestly."​

"Different poison types do different things, Sithy or not. Some paralyze you. Others make your blood feel like acid. There are some that force your systems to break down one by one until your insides are a mess. Sith poison is the same. I don't know what kind your friend was given. If I had a sample of it... maybe I'd be able to tell you something. But every kind is different, and every person is affected differently. Had your eye been stabbed instead of mine... well... who knows what symptoms you would be having? Most would be similar to mine, sure, but it wouldn't be 100% the same. Probably not even close. You have to keep that in mind. Whatever I tell you, you have to remember that I'm not the one who did that to her- whoever she is. I've never even made poison. Just had a few needles stabbed into me. Hell... I ain't even force sensitive. But I have seen what it does to those who are..." Nyx paused, waiting to be interrupted, assuming she was rambling. She'd wait for a sign to continue before telling [member="Corvus Raaf"] of the potential side effects.​

{OOC: But I'm a gentlemanlady! Apologizing is something I must do!}​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Corvus nodded as Nyx spoke. The Protectorate were strong allies of the Republic and she’d recently been to see The Pit as their guest. However, apart from that one meeting, she’d had nothing to do with them really.

And despite the gruff exterior, Nyx was…well she was Jedi material. A willingness to serve, a desire to help. The Jedi Order’s loss was the Protectorate’s gain.

At the mention of the poison, her mind shifted back to the here and now. “That was how it was for my friend I believe, but she won’t talk about it. But now she’d fully recovered and it hasn’t affected her ability to use the Force. Although she’s decided to become a Healer. Not sure that officially counts as a side-effect though.” There was a natural smile and a look that said this person was indeed a very good friend.

Corvus looked at the eye and looked past it. She’d gained enough scars and wounds from the Sith to recognise the tell-tale signs. And she didn’t like people talking about her wounds, so she wasn’t going to start invading someone else’s situation.

But all the talk of the effects of the poison brought back those bad memories of how her friend overcame it but how badly it affected her at the time. She almost missed the last part of Nyx’s conversation and felt both guilty and incredulous, the two vying for supremacy before calling it an honourable draw.

“You are Force-sensitive. I should know.” She waved her hand around at the room. “I’m in charge of this. And I don’t mean the room, I mean the whole place. I am the HeadMaster of the Ossus Academy. And if there’s one thing I’m rather good at, it’s spotting potential Jedi. I can’t believe the OP didn’t tell you, they must know.”

Aware she may have overstepped the mark and risked offending a close ally, she backtracked slightly. “What I mean is, I’m surprised they didn’t check. I’ve seen you use the Force. I felt you use the Force. Trust me on this one…”

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

(And slapping is something I’m really good at )

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

Say what now? This had to be some sort of sick joke. There was absolutely no way that she was one of them! That... that was impossible. She was almost a perfectly normal individual. How could she be a forcie? Just the mere mention of the possibility- she refused to believe that Corvus meant she was, in fact, sensitive- made her cringe. Or at least do something similar to cringing. Somehow I doubt there's any real word for the facial expression she made. Regardless, she made it. Perhaps it was a tad... much. Then again... she had just been told something that no one else had bothered to mention in the past 40 years. Why was that? Had her abilities been suppressed until recently? Did those at the Protectorate assume she already knew? Or...? Maybe her brain had just hidden the memories away. Nobody knew at this point- not even her, and especially (so it seemed) Corvus. Regardless of the truth Nyx was far more angry than she was shocked. Hell, she was still convinced she couldn't use the force if she tried, no matter what she had just been told. Rage was one of the things she did best... and now she was going to prove that. When she spoke her voice practically trembled. It filled the space, almost seeming to shake it. Both eyes held a new sort of flash to them. Meanwhile the veins around her right one appeared more prominent. Darker even. Was the poison feeding her emotions?​

​

"Don't frak with me. I'd krackin' know if I was one of you weird-arv space wizard schuttas."​

​

She was so loud. So angry. Completely and utterly horrified. When it came down to it, she had not been aggravated by what [member="Corvus Raaf"] had said. Instead she had been saddened. More importantly she had been scared. For the past seven years she had been hating force-users. After everything they had done to her... how could she... how could she accept the fact that she was one? Even the woman before her was viewed as an enemy. A lesser one, but an enemy nonetheless. Jedi are still bad, she thought, not as bad as Sith, but still bad. They've... they've caused so much destruction. So much war... I can't be one of them. I am not one of them! Nyx's scowl grew as she tried to stand up. Once again the pain stopped her. It rammed into her, the blood inside her starting to itch, almost warming up. The woman narrowly avoided falling to the floor. Both arms clutched at her stomach as she doubled over, hunched over herself. This was why Dr. Stone had recommended she stay in bed. Also why she wanted to limit visitors. Setting the Zorren on edge was a quick way to making her suffering worse. Not that it was Corvus' fault! She likely hadn't been warned. After all, she was a busy woman, and Stone hadn't expected her to check on Nyx. Not in the slightest! Some oversights can be quite costly...​

​

"Feth... By the Gods, it feels like I'm on fire..." This time she was quiet. Oddly so. Perhaps not so odd if you considered her current situation. Every last drop of the poison was taking it's tole on her. What she had said earlier was still true, different substances did different things. That which was inside her had been meant to do two things: Make the victim excessively irritable, to the point where anyone they weren't extremely fond of would end up being punched, and to make it feel like one was dissolving from the inside. Neither effect had worked entirely. Sometimes it seemed like the first one did. You just have to remember that she was irritable before she got stabbed in the eye. As for the latter... well... the way she's barring her teeth, gripping herself so hard that her knuckles turned white, and shaking... It felt like she was on fire. That was the easiest way to describe it. This was, by far, the worst she had felt yet. Being angered seemed to trigger a more severe response. Of course that was to be expected. Most Sith-made things were fueled by emotions. Alchemized poison was no exception. "I'm... I'm not force... I'm not a karkn' forcie..." That was what she said. But what she really meant... I'm not like the monsters who did this to me.​

{OOC: Should I be mildly, moderately, or excessively terrified right now?}​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

The reaction was not what Corvus was expecting. The time taken to process meant she either didn’t believe her, or she was in denial. And that face she was pulling? It was a good job there was no wind in here. That would not be one to be stuck with forever. It started somewhere near shock, took a detour at confused and went at 1,000kmh towards angry – and didn’t apply the brakes when it got there.

And all that anger was pulling in the Dark-side. Corvus was in two minds. To step in now might push her over the edge, but without intervention she probably would anyway. And then came the denial. Again Corvus debated two options, to challenge her or let her run out of steam. This time she made a decision, to see where Nyx would go herself with this train of thought.

But then Nyx tried to rise and even with her usual filter, Corvus felt the pain, a diminished version, but she shared the sensations. And she made the decision not to shut them out. If she was to help Nyx, she needed to know what was happening to her. The heat was unbearable, the pain excruciating. Corvus herself doubled-over slightly at the force of the emotion.

Realising it was the time to act, Corvus pulled the Force to her and sent calming waves towards Nyx. It worked with Padawans who were anxious and couldn’t focus. How well it would work with the patient she would find out soon enough. She wanted to touch Nyx, to see if she could numb the pain, but decided better of it.

A Padawan with Healer robes rushed in but Corvus sent her a quick mental message. ‘Leave now…everything is OK.’ The Jedi left as quickly as she came. The Padawan was clearly convinced. Corvus on the other hand was less sure.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

(I’m a pussycat really)

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

"You're like us Drapy! Heh heh heh!"​

The memory was hot. Crisp. Burned into her brain, dragging her down into the deepest pits of Chaos. Who had been talking to her? What had they meant? She blocked out Corvus as best as she could. Not intentionally. Our friend didn't even realize she was doing it at first. But when she did she kept going, pushing against the 'Jedi scum'. Wait... why did she say it that way? This... this didn't feel like her usual self.​

"Oh Drapy! Did no one ever tell you?"​

It made her want to scream. Maybe she did. Maybe the pain broke through her barriers and she schreeched as loud as she could. Or perhaps the sound she heard was just the memories- just the thought of what had happened to her, the way she reacted. What had they done? Why had they done it? Where did things go wrong?... Nyx removed her hands from her arms and put them to her head. She was remembering everything.​

"There's the force in you! Isn't that great?" "We could make you one of us!"​

They had tried. By the Gods, they had tried. Everything had been an attempt to push her into madness. To make her succumb to her feelings. They wanted this to happen. They wanted her to burn. This was their fault. Not the Jedi's. Not Corvus'. It had been the Sith. Of course it had. When had that ever been in doubt?... It hadn't. The poison- everything led back to that damn poison.​

"I'm... I'm not one of them..."​

Drapeam Nyx opened her eyes slowly. Both arms slowly dropped to her sides. The pain was receding. In it's place was a horrible silence, broken only by slow, shallow breaths. Then there was anger. There always had to be anger. Because it was the only thing she could tolerate. Sadness was a far more painful thing. As were regret and concern. She had to turn it into anger. That was how she had survived this long...​

[member="Corvus Raaf"]​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

"I'm... I'm not one of them..."

That's all Corvus got from what seemed to be quite a few moments of angst. And then there was peace and Corvus breathed more easily. Perhaps the Force had calmed her sufficiently as she felt the pain receding. And here the good news ended, because the pain was surely and inexorably replaced by anger. Pure, simple and unequivocal anger. And that would draw on the Dark-side of the Force.

Corvus had to act but whatever she did was risky. She reached out her hand and pulled the Force to her. She focused that energy and from her hand came tendrils of white light. They snaked towards Nyx until they reached her and surrounded her, like some ethereal head to toe bandages. Nyx would feel nothing. The anger would remain, but she was isolated from the Dark-side. It could not penetrate the protection she was placing around her patient. It was a temporary fix but a necessary one. And of course, there was no way of telling how Nyx would react.

OK, not true, even a non-Corellian could give you the odds. This would not end well.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

She needed to breathe. Oh boy, she needed to think. Think think think! There was to much anger- all of it pointless. She had to calm down. But she was hurting and the poison was making her upset and the truth was so much. It was to much. Now her breathing was coming in heavy shudders, every intake of air felt like a sucker punch to the gut. She had to relax. Just think, she thought, use your common sense. The Jedi were helping her. Corvus was helping her. That was good. This was a good Jedi. Yeah, those exist. Okay... she was breathing. That was good. She was thinking too. Even better. Now she just... just had to finish calming down.​

"I'm not one of them."​

She said it again. Almost as if she believed that if she repeated those words enough they'd be true. But she knew better than that. She knew that saying it meant nothing. At some point she was going to have to accept it. Why would Corvus lie?... She was a good Jedi. A good forcie. Seemed like a nice person. Telling someone that they have potential when they don't isn't nice. So she had to be telling the truth. What if she's not though? Sometimes the Zorren really hated the voice in her head. Even if it was hers. It always seemed like her thoughts hated everything. Maybe they did. She did have a lot of reasons to hate a lot of things...​

"I can't be one of them."​

Corvus was trying to give her peace. Trying to help her. That was a good thing. Right? Yes, it had to be. This was a good Jedi. Nyx unclenched her fists quietly. With a few deep breaths she finally relaxed. There was still some anger. There would always be anger, or rage, or irritation. As long as there was poison in her blood. But there could be moments where it seemed to fade. Times where she felt better than others. However, every day like this one... every time where she stumbled towards the edge...​

"I'm... exhausted..."​

Her eyelids felt heavy. They drooped, covering both eyes, and for a moment Drapeam Nyx looked peaceful.​

[member="Corvus Raaf"]​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

The self-denial was going to be a challenge. Some didn't believe because they were frightened of getting their hopes up. Some chose not to accept because they simply couldn't comprehend the magnitude of what it meant - never being able to have a normal life.

But others, like Nyx it seemed, simply did not want to be Force-sensitive. But then 'aren't' changed to 'can't' -- which in the scheme of things was an improvement.

And Corvus felt full of guilt. Like someone observing a ship crashing into a mountain. Rubber-necking at another's misfortune. But she was genuinely a passenger here and felt powerless to do too much until invited.

But at least she looked at peace, for now, so Corvus moved closer and took a seat next to the bed, waiting for Nyx to recuperate sufficiently to talk again. And she would wait as long as it took.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

Patience was a virtue. One that Nyx, while she generally lacked it, highly valued. Back when she served the Imperials she had often been used as a top-class sniper. Plenty of jobs had required her to sit in one spot for days or weeks on end. Finding ways to entertain herself had been fairly easy, but the troops who were guarding her typically got bored quickly. At least once that had messed up the whole operation. Other times it simply irked her. So to see that Corvus was waiting just fine... well, it made her happy. Just a little! But happy nonetheless. As usual though she did her best to hide it. Her focus had to be on suppressing the anger. Watching her ideas of what the Jedi are break down was a secondary task. And one her mind was still having trouble understanding at that. Part of her did want to thank her companion- for quite a few things. Why didn't she then? Was it because her focus was to split already? Or did it have to do with the fact that she didn't like opening up to people?... No, that couldn't be it... Expressing gratitude doesn't require telling someone why it means so much. Even the Zorren knew that. She simply didn't know what to say.​

​

A few minutes passed. They were rather quiet, uneventful moments filled with little breaths and a few winces. In this time the last bit of pain was leaving. Where it once was a sort of numbness gathered. This had been expected. While the poison was, in fact, temporarily done trying to burn her from the inside, it was incapable of 'giving up'. For several hours Nyx would feel very weak. Moving would no longer hurt, but it would be difficult. Much like her limbs were all asleep. In regards to her emotional state... well, Corvus had done a good job of helping her calm down. As long as no other sore subjects were brought up they would be fine. Of course, as previously stated, there would still be anger. Still a shadow would hang over her, waiting for an opportunity, feeding whatever problems came up. Would there be any more outbursts? Probably. Just (hopefully) none like the past few ones! Though in all seriousness: The main drama had passed. We have surpassed our daily quota and have no need for any more painful flashbacks. Your regular programming may now resume.​

​

"Well. This has been... 'fun'." Her eyes opened after another five or so minutes. Then she spoke, softly, trying to lighten the mood. But her tone was dry. Airy. Empty, even. She felt so incredibly drained- and she had to wonder if [member="Corvus Raaf"] did as well. Were they both this exhausted? Nyx hoped not. After all, her visitor was in charge of the academy. There were likely a lot of other things she had to get done today. Probably a lot of things that were more important than this information-gathering trip. "No one told me before today. No one that I trusted, at least. Just a couple kriffers. The she'buy'ce who did this sheb to me. 'Guess they had a motive after all... I, uh, chit... I should probably 'pologize or something." But she didn't. Not in the expected way, at least. Mentioning the fact that she should say sorry was her way of saying sorry. Well, that and the way she awkwardly cracked a 'smile'.​

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Corvus sat and meditated whilst she waited. And waiting was good - because it meant Nyx was resting and relatively pain-free. Not entirely painless, the occasional wince told her that.

Minutes turned to hours, but to a Jedi meditating, it was nothing. Corvus was aware of Padawan healers coming in and out but they allowed both patient and visitor to remain undisturbed.

But finally Nyx stirred and Corvus’ eyes opened slowly. And oddly, it was as if the previous conversation hadn’t been paused for a few hours. They were back on the topic of Nyx’s Force-sensitvity.

And Corvus smiled as her patient finally came to terms with her situation. The ‘apology’ was simply the cherry on the icing on the cake.

“First thing’s first, we need to get you fixed. It will happen, you have my word. And then you need to decide what you’re going to do with this new found knowledge. You may know already, but some people need longer to decide. But just about everyone has questions when they find out. Do you?”

She stared into Nyx’s eyes, holding the gaze. This was a genuine offer and Corvus wanted her to know she meant it.

[member="Drapeam Nyx"]