My Serendipitous Date With a Serial Killer (Mikhail/Open)

[Tahira Solo]

[SIZE=10pt]Chalacta – Jordir, Coffee and Tea Pub of West and Sixth[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Dear Je’gan,[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]I catch myself being reminded of you in the smallest of details and unexpected things. There was a padawan with a shirt sporting dark buttons. When the buttons caught the light, they reminded me of your dark eyes. They even served chocolate cake in the cafeteria that day.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]I know it’s silly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]I’m sorry the Grandmaster thing didn’t work out the way you thought it would. If I can be selfish, I’ll admit I’m a little relieved I didn’t have the title of Grandmaster’s wife for too long. Things are easier this way. Is it true about Velok? What are your plans, now?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]I miss you.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Love,[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Ta-[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Pen dropped as she glanced up toward the door, feeling a prickling of something, no, someone familiar. “You have got to be kidding me,” murmured breath left her lips as she subtley shifted her chair and positioned her body so her side was hunched away from the door. Hand came up to hide the side of her face as she tipped her head forward, chestnut strands of hair dipping across her features. Eyes remained trained on her teacup.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Off all the people and all the places, it had to be Mikhail fricken Shorn.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]@[member="Mikhail Shorn"][/SIZE]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A lean, pale, raven-haired man entered the pub. Bone-chilling darkness followed him in. He walked with a nonchalant gait, but stopped suddenly. His pale, blue eyes almost lazily looked around the room, appearing cold and aloof, until they fell on @[member="Tahira Solo"]. A mischievous light came into his eyes, followed by a smirk. By now, whatever spell had been cast on Mikhail Shorn to make him believe he was the living incarnation of Aatrox the Deceiver was wearing off. Oh, he still felt like a god. With the Soulsaber in hand, who wouldn't? He remembered his old life, yet still remained aloof and detached. Spencer had been the one restraining bolt in place to prevent him from becoming an utter monster. Those ties had been severed.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

Shorn slid easily into the chair directly opposite Tahira. Between them sat a little couple's table.

"A letter? For me? You shouldn't have," Mikhail waved a hand and the letter floated into his hand.

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

[SIZE=10pt]Myrtle ellipses panned upward from her simmering tea to meet an icy-gaze of Mikhail. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Stang.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She was tempted to disappear in white-current and leave the sith master to taunt the air. But something made her stay. Whether it was a shallow sense of ‘I was here first,’ or something deeper was yet to be determined. Instinctively, she lunged forward as he invisibly snatched the letter, simultaneously banging her knee on the bottom of the table and knocking the cup of wonderful hot tea over. Fingers went to snatch the letter back as she bit back a swear, jarring pain moving up her joint.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Mister Shorn. Shouldn’t you be pillaging a village somewhere? Or, do even gods take days off from Olympus?”[/SIZE]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail's smile broadened and he let her snatch the letter back, getting only a glimpse at the top. Je'gan. Now why did that sound so familiar. Mischief filled those pale eyes and he arched a single, dark brow.

"Oh, you've heard about my deification?"

The new Emperor might be Dranok Lussk, but Mikhail Shorn, Lord of Chaos was the new god of the Empire. Temples and shrines were being erected in his honor, or supposedly so. Mikhail did not exactly trust Dranok. But then, he didn't trust anyone.

"You should know I've got better things to do... like bothering you."

He gave her a conspiratorial wink.

@[member="Tahira Solo"]

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

Hastily folding up the letter, she crammed it to the bottom of her jean pocket before slowly lowering herself back in the cafe chair. Eyes rolled a 360. There was only one other man that could grate under her skin and enjoyed doing it as much as Mikhail. She couldn't help but wonder if the sith was a distant cousin to Jonathon Patches.

"Please, do make yourself comfortable," dry quip left thinly pressed lips. Motioning the waiter over, she handed him the knocked over mug. "I'll take another jubjub tea."

"Sure, no problem. And what'll your date have?"

"Oh, no, no ,no. We're not....he's just. Trust me when I say, we are NOT dating." Arms crossed indignantly over her chest as she glared at Mikhail across the small space. "But go ahead and put his order on my tab...in a to-go cup. I'm sure he'll be leaving soon."

She smiled sweetly at Mikhail as the waiter paused to take his order.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Well in that case," Mikhail's seemingly benign smile held sinister undertones, "I'll have the Jaharan Sand and an Iced Hoth. In to-go cups of course."

The waiter blanched.

"Something wrong?" Pale eyes stared piercingly.

"No, no," replied the waiter, knowing full well just how fething expensive those drinks were. "Coming right up."

Shorn's stare turned on Tahira and he smirked wickedly. "You know, I still don't have your full name. And if we're dating I need something to call you other than babe.... babe."

@[member="Tahira Solo"]

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

[SIZE=10pt]If his drink order bothered her, it didn’t show. But she was caught off-guard by his direct question. It felt surreal having the freedom to respond truthfully after being hidden for so long.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Tahira Solo.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The waiter came back, setting their drinks down. Lithe fingers wrapped around the freshly, warmed cup of tea as she quietly scrutinized the malevolent sith master. She was no empath but she sensed it was time to switch gears.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“We always seem to meet like this. But this time we’re not in a Hutt palace or on some Vagrant space station. And for once, I’m not in trouble. But maybe you are?” A single chestnut brow lofted. “I never had a chance to thank you. Even if I didn’t know your intentions then just like I don’t know your intentions now. It doesn’t take an empath to know you’re running from something and before I lose the chance…thank you, Mikhail, for giving me glimpses of who you really are.”[/SIZE]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Tahira Solo? It didn't ring any bells but... well, she was obviously pretty powerful in the Force. And Mikhail was not exactly well versed in Force lineages. It bore some looking in to. The malevolent sith-master-turned-deity took a sip of his insanely expensive coffee, then looked @[member="Tahira Solo"] right in the eye.

"You shot me."

And that was all he said. No "You're welcome." No self-villification rant. Just those three words. (No, not those three words.) Because truthfully, she had shot him, with a stun bolt, yes, but he had killed others for less. And honestly, he didn't know why he wasn't flipping over the table and decapitating her. The Soulsaber at his hip was strangely silent. So Mikhail continued to stare. And drink overpriced coffee.

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

[SIZE=10pt]“Twice, actually,” lips twitched as she took a sip from the mug. She didn’t have to go into detail about how it was for his protection as much as it was for her own. Or, that she had dragged his unconscious butt into a utility closet to save him from being found when she could’ve easily just left him. He was smart. Well, usually.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“I’m just glad there aren’t any unruly Trandoshans around,” myrtle ellipses facetiously panned the room before settling back on Mikhail, the ghost of a smirk staying on her lips for a few moments as she thought about the bar fight and yet another serendipitous run-in. She had no idea what web the galaxy was trying to weave. The smile faded. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“What are you running from, Mister Shorn?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]There was something beneath his snarky-exterior and his dazed, pseudo-god-like state. It was something deeply hidden. A cover-up for pain, maybe a relationship gone bad? A hutt’s daughter probably rejected his advances. Or perhaps, it was a wookie…[/SIZE]

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

The sith was unusually silent. "A credit for your thoughts, Mister Shorn? No?"

Sliding out of the chair, she took one last lingering sip from her tea. Being a master healer, Mikhail's pain beneath his anger was almost as potent as his stubbornness and cavalier attitude. "If you ever want to turn your emotions back on...feel something other than anger, let me know. I think I can help you. It'll hurt like the chillin bite of Hoth's winter on exposed skin, but..." Se shrugged and slid a piece of flimsy across the table with her comm number.

He would have to want it and right now, she suspected her words were falling on deaf ears. But her message was clear, she was offering him a branch of friendship, even if he sheared it away. Paying the bill, she left without looking back.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn sat, still as death, staring at the table's smooth, chrome surface. His eyes seemed fixed to that small bit of flimsy with her number. On the barren plains of his heart - burnt black with sorrow, grief, and rage - something stirred. He felt it before. Once. Someone saw through the blood of murder encrusting him like armor of gore and reached for his heart. To have someone believe that he could do more, be more, than the monster he was now... it sent a frozen shiver through those empty plains. An ache opened up. The ache of regret.

Those pale blue eyes narrowed. What did he run from? Nothing! He had beaten an Emperor and placed another on his shattered throne. No one could control him now. No one could burden him with their expectations. Beneath those barren plains leapt up a sudden fire that ignited the whole of it, turning black to a haze of red and orange.

Shorn rose, death in his eyes, and swung toward @[member="Tahira Solo"].

"You can't save me!" He hissed. He didn't want her to save him. No, no she couldn't. He couldn't. Strife filled his heart. Conflicted. How could he be conflicted? He didn't feel! It hurt so much. It hurt too much. The pain drove him to numbness. But no, not this time. This time he felt all the weight of what he had done, the consequences of his sins. So many dead. And Spencer... poor Spencer. How could he have- His pale eyes blazed like steaming ice, staring daggers through Tahira. "I don't run. People run from me!"

By now, everyone in the Pub had turned their attention on him. They should not have. Mikhail felt the stares and his whole body seemed to tremble. Some feeling stabbed through his heart like a hot knife, twisting and searing. The glass behind the counter shattered. The crystal shards rained down, then suddenly rose from the floor. Confusion and angry entered Mikhail's expression and he swung a hand sharply. Shards of glass sprayed through the room. People screamed.

Some of the screaming cut off in wet gurgles. Some only intensified. Shorn just stared. People lay on the ground, squirming or lying too still. Blood pooled beneath their bodies. People sat in tables, slumped forward or slumped back, scarlet streaming from chests and faces. Everywhere, death surrounded him. Mikhail's pale eyes glared up at Tahira.

"This is who I am!"

@[member="Tahira Solo"]

 

[Tahira Solo]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

The green-translucent and shimmering force field went up by instinct and protected those near the door and where the Jedi master turned around. Those that survived, immediately ran. Steady-gaze remained on Shorn, as she felt the pinpricks of life extinguished by the other not so lucky patrons.

"People do run from you, because you push them away."

Closing the short distance between them, her palm reached forward and pressed flat against his chest, just above the heart. Myrtle ellipses didn't break away from his chill-blue gaze as she released a pulse of healing energy, targeted at the darkness and rage she sensed inside. The light side sought not to influence, but to dig up the emotions she knew were already buried deep within Mikhail, underneath all those layers of blinding rage and fear.

If the temporary link held, he would feel brushes of tenderness, repentance, patience, a different kind of power, and even peace.

"I said. Stop. Running."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

His breath was heavy. Not because what he'd just done had been difficult. No. It had been oh, so easy. She came closer, extending a hand. He reached into the Force and saw her, full of light, walking toward him. That light, purging and blinding. The harsh light of a Tattooine sun. He feared it. Shorn took a step back. He didn't want her to touch him, but he stood like one transfixed. The power of the light seemed to make her glow and as her fingers touched his chest, everything went white.

Light surged into him. Not burning, or purging, but illuminating his sins in stark relief, throwing long shadows in the corners of his heart as it revealed all to him, dragging up emotions that brimmed with hope for a new life, a different life. Like a flood of crystal water, feelings of tenderness and love washed through the black plains of his heart, pushing aside that dark dirt to reveal the glimmering surface beneath. But the even this tide was like an ocean wave upon sand. It came and went, only stirring the blackness within Shorn's heart. Then came the surge of regret, bringing with it an avalanche of guilt.

He suddenly remembered every innocent life he'd ever taken. Every instance of murder. There were so many. The floor seemed to drop out from under him and Shorn sank to the glass-filled floor with a crunching. Glass ground into his knees and shins. His hands fell limply to his sides. Hot tears spilled from his eyes, dropping softly against the floor and mirroring the dripping blood from the dead victims of his wrath surrounding him. He shuddered, guilt wracking him with overwhelming sorrow and regret. All his fault.... his fault. Then came the self-loathing.

"I'm just a monster," Shorn whispered.

@[member="Tahira Solo"]

 

[Tahira Solo]

As he fell, so did she, her knees digging into the glass-littered floor. She met him where he was and offered her own bodyweight as an anchor. To outsiders, the pair seemed to glow like a brilliant star in the middle of the death-filled room. Battle-worn arms wrapped around his racking-form, doing something that seemed natural to do in the moment, something a friend would do; she hugged him. It wasn't some weeny, awkward side-hug, or some hesitant wishy-washy hug; this was a full-frontal bear-hug.

The healer hugged the monster, without offering a denial of his claim.

"I think we all have our darkest moments. It's what we choose to do with them and how we learn from them that make us stronger. I can help you." She paused, pursing her lips as she felt his tears hit against her face. "I can numb you to the force, so you can find yourself again. So you can forgive yourself. I think...you've experienced this before. But this will be...a little different."
@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"No!" His voice was sharp, sharp as the shimmering, splintered glass beneath his knees. He glared at her through hot tears. How long had it been since he cried last, so openly? He couldn't remember. Licking his lips, he tasted the salty tang of sorrow. "I can't change me! You can't change me! This is who I am!"

Rising, glass crunched beneath his boots. Red and blue eyes stared her down. "No. I'm not going to live up to anyone's expectations. Sometimes, sometimes I enjoy it. The Dark Side... you don't understand. I can't escape it. I want it." Like an addict. But this was stronger than any addiction. "The only thing you can do is kill me, Tahira."

Mouth twisting, brows contorted, Shorn's face was a mask of pain, mirroring the internal war inside him that raged across the barren, black-scorched plains of his heart. Only extremes lived there: utter emptiness, then the crushing wash of emotions, mostly guilt. No. He couldn't. Forgiveness seared him like acid. He would rather go through all this pain than face that horrible self-crucifixion.

"Are you going to?" He growled, extending his arms. "Well?! Stop me!"

@[member="Tahira Solo"]