Misery Hates Company

[Bael Malpas]

Back leaning against the familiar gravestone of his beloved Lina sat Bael his head slumped down. His silver hair was unkempt and he had forgone his signature jacket instead preferring to be shirtless and only wearing a set of white pants. Clenched in one hand was the bottle of whiskey that had been keeping him company the past hour or two and in his lap was a vial filled with a red liquid. Anyone with experience would know exactly what it was on site, a Death Stick. Bringing his head up from the ground with a grunt as though even the small movement took a lot out of him Bael stared straight up at the sky tear stains prominent on his cheeks with heavy black bags beneath his eyes. His cheeks thin and his violet eyes almost void of life. "You know it would've been our four year anniversary right?" Bael asked the gravestone as he took another swig from the bottle allowing its warmth to scorch his throat and warm his body. "Only if things hadn't happened the way they had... Maybe if I hadn't been born a noble we could've been together. Raised our child together, live a peaceful life as merchants." Bael said with a scoff as he looked around at the barren cemetery.

Lina's parents had insisted that their daughter be buried where they choose, and reluctantly Bael had given in. However when he offered to pay for the funeral and the cost of having her buried they still denied him. They had completely turned their backs on their son in law blaming him for their daughters death. They weren't wrong however. It was all his fault. "If you hadn't stolen my heart you may have continued living. I would've continued on to take my fathers spot and we probably never would have met." Picking up one of the blooming flowers Bael twisted it by the stem before crushing it in his fist. The one good thing about the cemetery Lina's family had chosen was that no one would recognize Bael in his drunken stupor. Teeth gritting Bael's fist hammered into the ground. "But what type of life is that?! To live in your parents shadow?! To not be your own person! To not love who you want?!" Standing Bael threw the bottle of whiskey against a nearby tree where it shattered some of the liquid painting the tree.

As the bottle shattered his vision seemed to fragment just as though he were looking into a shattered mirror. His mouth hung open as his mind was assaulted by an unimaginable pain that brought Bael to his knees as he gasped unable to scream from the pure agony. He couldn't even comprehend what was happening. Ever since he had been a child such migraines had been common place, and the fragmented vision happened once in a blue moon. However now it seemed to be happening more and more with the only way to stop it was to use Death Sticks. Hand skirting over the ground Bael was able to grasp the vial but as he picked it up it shattered. "NO!" He screamed as he tried to catch the liquid that slipped between his fingers and onto the ground.

[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

The rush of cold air hit hard. Jericho shivered even as he used his hands to hold up the cold water to splash over his scarred face. After doing the warrior stared into the the reflection that was his face. His dark eyes stared deep into the moon lit water, his face slowly disperse from view and the conflicting essence of his aura shrouded him filling him warmth from serenity of the light and the rage of emotion. The warrior took a breath light a spark of fire being released from his lips and smoke lightly from his nose. After his dragon like action and appearance he clasp on his mask, then wrapping around his thick and heavily furred white Jedi robe. Though his fire shaping abilities were that of a legend and he couldn't truly become cold unless necessary; his robes meant more to him, it reminded him to be the kind of man he needed to be for his apprentices and for his children. The smell of perfume that lingered on it from time to time and his soft touch in the face of all the wounds that he had suffered reminded him of the lovers in his life, their welcoming touch reminding that there was warmth in the galaxy.

He pressed his stared up into the sky. The moon shined so brightly.... it was beautiful. It's bright light reminded him of the ghost of master that he recently had the chance to see. It had been sometime since he had been this calm having the ability or rather, the privilege to speak to his fallen master again. It made his mind wonder; Was it possible to touch them? Were they the souls of the lost, sometimes the forgotten? Did he have to follow one path in order to become one with the force to have the ability to see life as she does through the force after death? Or was there no dark or light side of the force? Or was it just as he believe, there was only the force and he was just a way to make it communicate as a cataylst? The warrior sat up and leaned down to look into his reflection once more. A drop of water from his hair hit the water hard. He blinked as the water splashed up at him. The reaction of it as that similar to the water, there was drop...The warrior rose loosing his grip on his robe feeling another presence nearby him. There was someone nearby that was gifted with the force and he would go to find him, it was the last mission his master had left him, gather those willing and enlighten them.

The warrior walked to where the presence was emitting itself and as he closed in, he heard a voice, and angered one. From the smell of things; a drunk one at that. The warrior watched at the boy quietly for a moment and waited for a moment to let him let out his rage before approaching him. This time he would make a lighter approach from his usual intimidating self, he would attempt to be like his fallen master, Asha Seren. He raise his hand and used the force to catch the falling bottle of liquid and set it to the side away from the young drunk. Without a word once he placed down the bottle, the warrior emitted a sensation of calm to relax the young and untrained man. "I know of pain. I know of loss. I know of the lonliness you feel. Calm yourself. Breathe..." The warrior said calmly.

[member="Bael Malpas"]

 

[Bael Malpas]

Every second that passed felt like hours to Bael as the fragmented vision showed him multiple images of his past and what could've been. Images of him and Lina on the nights they sat beneath the starlit sky holding hands and making promises that no longer could be kept. The times they bathed in the ocean that surrounded their personal island together, and the night that they consummated their marriage. All of it being shown to him and forced upon his mind. The tears he had been trying to fight back came forth as the images slowly shifted to what could've been. Bael and Lina holding a child between them, how they would raise it on the estate, and it would eventually rise to take the title of count. All forced upon his mind by an unknown force that was beyond his control.

Corners of his vision swimming with black Bael turned his head as somehow he felt someone nearing him. Not heard, or saw, but literally sensed. As he looked over at the individual Bael felt a wave of calm fall over his body. His muscles began to relax and his fragmented vision slowly started to repair itself. The frayed edges slowly began to come together and the images were forced away and the final fracture disappeared. Slowly Bael tried to rise to his feet but his legs gave out beneath him and he had to cling onto Lina''s grave to support his body. He had heard the words of the man, but they did nothing but prompt his anger. "Do you truly know the loss I feel? To have my child and wife taken from me?" Vithar asked casting a glance back at the grave and then the surrounding graveyard. It was night now and the moonlight bathed him and the stranger. Just how long have I been out here? Bael thought to himself as he remembered showing up at the graveyard when the sun was out.

[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

"Do you truly know the loss I feel? To have my child and wife taken from me?"

It was different in every variation he has heard this question to be asked whether or not he understood the pain one felt. The pain of lonliness, the pain of watching someone die, the pain of hearing the constant sounds of screams or worst of that of tears of a child. The pain of losing someone most dear to them. It was a pain that left the deepest of voids; a black hole that sucked in one's most inner core and spewed out nearly a whole different person. One perspective on life changed, their view altered with some sort of darkness that would very well destroy the innocence of a child, the happiness of an easy-going spirit, and even the strength of the strongest of men. The pain could drive one to the very depths of insanity with a need of filling such a void to believe that one was hollow only to have the feelings that one once had replace with other like a drug having the temporary need of some sort of feeling.

Jericho knew these feelings.

There was never a day, Jericho would be able to silence the cries of pain of those only Zeltros in the great war. Their pleading needs for help of those he could not save echo thorough his mind. It was guilt. That he felt as he felt those to pursue another one of the fallen jedi a member of his old order. He could only see the face of a child as her eyes watered seeing her sister suffer the flames made and the colors of lightsaber clash. It rang through out his mind constantly again and again and again and again, pounding in his mind like a drum that could not and would not stop even if it wanted it to. On that same battlefield, he witness as great masters and padawans alike fall the tainted sabers of red as the sith made their overwhelming attack and he did try to stop them he tried to stop one and failed having two saber spilt through his being as a reminder of that failure.

A failure that reminded him of his master dying and nothing that he could do. Leaving him to feel the lonliness and isolation, that made him seek mean to become stronger for a time. Wanting something to feel that void within his souls by any means.

Then there was the self-loathing he felt, his children though not through blood but purified bond of the force. He had five children he cared for and help grow in the force and as a father figure. They looked to him for guidance, for protection, for the strength needed to persevere through the ever changing trials. And yet, three of them tortured on killed by sith and the other two fell deep into the dark side, of one of those two, he took their life with his very own hands. Similar to the eyes of the zeltron child, Jericho stared into the eyes of his former padawan and saw....Felt her pain as his saber course through her. The eyes of his former padawans screamed to him begging him to save in a different way; with that never was there a day that passed that made him think if was another way he could have done something. If there was was something that he could change something he could of done to save her.

There was the feeling of utter hatred he felt; the pure anger he had for any and every one that ever stated that they were affiliated with sith. The warrior didn't care for his well being, he went to every battle, every war and took the side of the opposing force of the sith and hunted down any one he could with no remorse. Their eyes spoke the same very same story of pain and lonliness and thirst for power ending with the need to do more and the wanting of life's kiss. There was never a day where he wanted to kill to feel the blood of another on his hands and let it rest and bathe in its warmth having the satisfaction of knowing another would by their hand.

There was never a day.....A phrase that set in mind.....Spoke more truth than any other. These were the feelings Jericho lived with and understood that kept the darkness strong within him. This was his pain. For a time, that was like the mans drinking a coping drug; the sensational kill, a drug of purely used to take away the time to wallow in his own misery and mistakes only to end up with more problem. He knew that it was wrong and not the way of one that of a Jedi but he continued to do so in a Galaxy filled with an abundance of chaos. The warrior knew too well and learned something from it. Pain was universal, it was a part of self and the force and everyone experienced it differently.

He looked at the other staring deep into his eyes as he attempted to prop himself up with the grave of his, of whom Jericho assumed to be, his wife. "No." Jericho replied to the man. "I don't know the pain you feel. Only you knew your wife and child." He said taking a few steps closer the the drunkard. "But I know what pain does to a man." The warrior calmly stated as he lightly dusted another gravestone with illegible markings. "Time flies as you wallow and wither away, becoming a different man that your wife and child loved. A slow process but one who goes through it rarely sees." The warrior stepped up slowly and continuing to the young man and reaching out a hand and placing it onto his shoulder. "It is natural to feel this way....To mourn for them, to love them dearly even as they are no longer physically here with you. But..." Lending a hand to the man and forced him to look at the grave. "Ask your self, will become less or more of the man that they loved?"


[member="Bael Malpas"]

 

[Bael Malpas]

During the short silence Bael planned on chastising the man for even trying to relate his own pain to Bael's. However when the man spoke keeping his calm demeanor Bael could feel the weight behind his words, he thought he could almost hear a tone of sadness. Though the sad part was Bael hadn't truly gotten to know his child either, he had no clue how it would turn out, nor did he have a chance to hold it in his own arms. His wife had died in the final month of labor, and Bael had been there every step of the way helping her just knowing that they'd make a great family. He hadn't cared about his families thoughts on how he had married out of nobility, nor about their complaints when she had gotten pregnant. Maybe if he had taken more heed her death could've been prevented.

The Man's words rang true as he drew nearer to Bael causing him to twinge with regret. It had been years since their deaths and Bael had become a much colder man. Some had noted that the once carefree young man had become somber, and seemed almost like he was more machine then man at times. However it was the only way he knew how to deal with his emotions. A Count of Serenno could not show weakness as the other families would scheme and try to bring them down. However Bael stood his ground against the man not willing to back away out of fear of what could possibly happen, and partially because his legs still felt like they were made of jelly.

Feeling the weight as the strangers hand grabbed his shoulder Bael found himself looking at the grave of his wife tears welling up in his eyes as more of the memories began to surface. How the noble had first had his heart stolen by the women and how he had pursued her in hopes of stealing her own. How even her family accepted him, and how he would even help her on days she worked. Those days that seemed so long ago, however the memories stayed clearer then ever. "I'm sorry" Bael croaked out to the gravestone realizing just how much he had let her death phase him and as he did so there was an odd breeze that blew his hair aside with a presence that he knew however just as fast as it had came it stopped.

"Whats wrong with me?" He said rubbing a hand through his silver hair and shaking his head.

[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

Jericho was hardly an emotional man but he was not machine, life has hardened him to the extent that where he even as a Lorrdian, made him even more silent than he was. But the silence of the man was broken by the recent encounter of a miraculous phenomenon, seeing the ghost of his master, Asha Seren. The warrior had not place to judge as he was in the same position crying into the hand of the spirit that had left him alone in his youth. So in that moment the he let the man take another moment to grieve and let out all of his emotions for his wife and child. Despite being a stranger to him, the warrior had an obligation, to help all those in need. The weak, the defenseless, and the lost especially those gifted with the force. "It is normal to feel this way." The warrior stated. "To have love someone so dearly." The warrior placed a hand on the young man's back and released another sensation of calm. "It shows that you are a man of heart, to grieve in such a way." The warrior began to walk away. "But continue solely in this path will lead to your own destruction and the memory of your family."

[member="Bael Malpas"]

 

[Bael Malpas]

Feeling the calming sensation brush over him again Bael smacked himself back to reality. The jolt that the man had given him had temporarily brought Bael out the downward spiral he was on. So reaching into his pants pocket Bael pulled out five more tubes filled with the luminescent liquid before dropping them on the ground and crushing them beneath his boot. The Deathsticks went beyond being just a crutch, Bael used them even when he didn't have headaches sometimes he overdosed on purpose hoping that it would take his life, but through miraculous events he always seemed to survive. However now he had to not only piece his life back together but himself as well. The once carefree man may be dead, but that did not mean Bael had to be cruel, or evil. "I must thank you for bringing me to my senses." Bael said to the stranger nodding his head in respect. "However what do you mean by journeying a path alone? What other choice is there for someone like me?"

[member="Jericho"]

 

[Jericho]

The warrior slightly turned his head and looked back at the rejuvenated man, Jericho could feel the aura of hate simmer down within his person and then get him a nodded when he was thanked. "It is good to see you are well." The warrior commented on the condition of the man. The warrior waved a hand to signal the man to walk with him if he so chose. "As you now know, you are not alone. There are many that are facing the pain you feel and facing it differently." The warrior started off, and ignited a flame in the palm of his open hand then extinguished it with a hardly clench of his fist. "You have a gift whether you think so or not." He turned to face him and humbly bowed his head to the young man. "I am Jericho. A master of the force and I see your potential to help others and master yourself. You need not be alone, my friend."


[member="Bael Malpas"]

Spoiler

Sorry for the wait and and crummy post!

 

[Bael Malpas]

"Yes it feels good to be well. I feel... Unnaturally calm right now. But its good, I think I really needed it." Bael said with a nod of his head to his wife's grave before turning to give his complete focus to the stranger and follow him. The night carried a cool breeze on the air causing a chill to retreat down Bael's spine. Even though this man had helped him was it smart to follow a complete stranger? Especially with Bael's standing in the Serenno community. Many would want him dead due to his wealth and political power alone while other would want to capture and ransom him back to the planet. All to many possibilities that he had not taken into account before following the stranger. Yet that sense of calm and some ethereal force told Bael that the stranger was someone who could be trusted.

"Yes... It was selfish of me to think I was the only one who knew great pain. There are probably much better men and women who used such incidents to strengthen themselves. However, I let it break me down and turn me into a shadow of my former self." Vithar said before his eyes widened at the sight of the flames in the man's hands. He had never seen something like it. There were always rumors of the Sith and Jedi using such abilities amidst their wars but Vithar had always thought of it as overinflation of the truth. He had seen a few jedi on the news and such but never seen them use such an esoteric skill.

"It is nice to meet you. Um... Jericho, however I am no jedi. I can't move as fast as yall or even as strong as you. I've never been able to do such things in my entire life."


[member="Jericho"]

Spoiler

It's fine I've been busy with Faction Admin stuff anyways. Plus mines isn't much better.

 

[Jericho]

"You are quick to learn." Jericho replied calmly when the young man spoke about the pain and how others reacted. "But as I said, everyone experience pain differently." The warrior continued his own little walk down the grassy way not turning his head back to even look the man. He continued to listen to the man as he spoke. From the choice of words made from the made Jericho could freely assume that the young man was unaware of his own attachment to the force. "You may never be as strong or as fast as me but then again you may be stronger than I will ever be, only time will tell." Jericho stopped his movement and turned to face Bael after finishing his sentence. "Whether or not you realize it or not, the force flows strongly through you."

[member="Bael Malpas"]