Indignation of the Damned

[Thal Mantis]

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The dreams were always the same.​

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Blood, sand.​

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Death.​

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The whip. The sting of the shock collars. The crackling of the electrical fences. Being lead into the arena through the dark tunnels. The Red tower looming over his head as he stepped barefoot to the sand. Sometimes the crowd cheered. Sometimes they booed. They called for his head, his death. Bets were placed, food was thrown at him. Like an animal. And they made him fight.

And yet, death escaped him. Night, after night, after night. He was resilient. He was determined to live. He wanted to live, so he had to- he had to kill. He was surviving. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, he wasn't a bad person-

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Ashes.​

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Sand.​

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Blood.​

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Screams.​

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Him screaming? Them screaming?​

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Blades, fists, ropes. They tried it all.​

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He always lived.​

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He always killed.​

He awoke in a fit, throwing the blanket off. The Silver Rest's calm atmosphere, the Ashlan presence in the air (as he came to learn) helped him calm him. But the nightmares persisted. The death came back, the Reaper hung around him like a plague. A disease that he was inflicted with. The other Jedi sometimes avoided him. They didn't scorn him here, no- they pitied him. Some of them- he could feel it. They were afraid. Because he had an evil in him, rage, hatred. Regret. Things that lead good men to be bad. All it took was the lure of the dark side. The evil that made the galaxy burn.


Would he succumb?

Would he become that which these people feared, because of what happened to him?

He paced around his room for roughly an hour, unable to calm himself to sleep. So, as was usual, he took a walk. The Silver Rest was quiet at night, clean and serene in it's tranquility. Only the distant sounds of the jungle. He held himself tightly, trying to shake the panic attack away. He hated feeling like this. Weak, scared.

But it was a harsh, ugly reality that he needed a night-time walk alone to calm himself even enough to go to sleep.


[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

[SIZE=9pt]The night was usually the quietest and Allyson had always found it to be the best time to partake in some of her own mental relaxation. This evening was different, she was struggling to focus so instead she decided to take a run. The rhythmic pounding of her feet against the ground helped clear her mind and bring her back to reality. Being someone that went undercover, holding several lies and stories to protect herself – it became confusing. Where did she begin, and the stories of others end? Running and reconnecting herself with her bonds helped reset all of that. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Before all this, the woman was never the type to believe much of the religion the Jedi had. In the end, she found some sort of comfort within all of it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]A thin layer of sweat clung to her forehead as she wandered up the steps to the temple. She had a small towel with her and she patted her face dry as she did her best not to make any noise that would disturb anyone. Buds in her ears played music that only she could hear, it kept her aloof to her surroundings for the most part. Remembering where she had left her jacket, she grabbed the older style bomber jacket and slung it over her shoulders covering the crop top she wore. Fingers traced the name on the jacket as she exhaled softly, finding a sense of peace and connection to the former owner. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As she wandered the temple heading to her room, she blinked as a body moved passed her. Blinking, she had a weird sensation that poured off him and she paused, watching him walk. Slender fingers pulled out the devices from her ears, “Hey you okay?” She spoke quietly enough but didn’t expect him to hear her. [/SIZE]

[member="Thal"]

 

[Thal Mantis]

The voice broke the silence, broke the loneliness. Not shattered, but as in someone stepping through a doorway. It was welcoming, concerned. The words formulated in his mind, translated from his native language. Basic. He knew that now. He knew many words in basic, although his accent carried when he spoke. He turned to face the woman, intently staring at [member="Allyson Locke"]. To say that Thal was an unsettling presence was an understatement- to most people, at least. Someone as accomplished as Allyson might not even blink twice at him.

He spoke, after a while of sizing her up. It was a habit he built at the Red Tower. Weighing his options with each person that came towards him, seeing if he could pummel them into submission, or worse. But he wasn't looking to fight her, or hurt her. It was just a simple habit.

"Can't sleep."

He wasn't lying- just omitting the entire truth. But he failed to realize that she could sense him, and sense all the....shenanigans going on in his mind. Turmoil, to say the least.