Or Feathers B'neath the Gibbous

[The Major]

As Sybil turned to face her friend there was a stark, harsh light filtering across her eyes, painting them in shade both bright and gray -twin orbs of slick water tantalizing with edging frostbite. Awkwardness when these two said goodbye for another long while was palpable between them, affecting them with the peskiest of thoughts. It was the sort of thing that was distracting to someone like Sybil when she was playing her role as “the Major.” It was enough to cause pause out on the field. Any delay or sore spot was a risk, and Sybil couldn’t afford taking such risks anymore without knowing where things stood. She hated herself for pushing to this point and dredging up the subject, but her dreams were starting to hound her -and as the days passed a malicious voice only compounded the feeling of futility. Perhaps this was a good thing. Laying it all out for both to properly manage could result in something a little more honest. Warning words from elsewhere echoed a form of warning. You manipulate people. That’s what was said. It was true. But with the woman standing so morosely on the other side of the living room a different tact was deserved, and it wouldn’t be fair to be anything less than complete honesty.

“Tez.” Her gaze aimed downward towards the songsteel weapon glittering, and followed along the reflection back to the window glowing with sunlight. “You always ask me that in that tone before I go. And maybe it's just a joke. Why? You know I have to leave. I come back. So why concern yourself? Because we’re friends?” Then her gaze floated back up, engaging the dark eyes hidden in the shadow of the room.

“Is this friendship?”​

[member="Tez Bola"] ​

 

[Tez Bola]

Of all the ridiculous questions [member="The Major"] has ever asked of Tez Bola, this one certainly took the spice cake. Sybil had been her one constant during these trepidatious and uncertain months- always listening, always smiling (her version of a smile, anyway), and always willing to share the burdens of the day. How many times had Sybil walked in and out of her door, welcomed back with open arms, free of judgement? How many hours, days, weeks, had they spent together? How many nights did Tez sit by Sybil’s side when she awoke from sleep screaming in a cold sweat? How many dreams have they shared? After all that, how could she, no, how dare she muster the audacity to utter such cold and obscure words? Her toneless delivery was but another twist of the proverbial blade.

Question after question continued to fill Tez’s mind akin to a dam on the verge of bursting. Was this a joke? A demented head game? A bet she had with her fellows in arms, or whatever they called one another, taking bets on how she would react when discovered being toyed with? Truly this couldn’t be a sincere question; who except children and droids ask things like that?

A wave of uneasiness crashed against Tez’s hollow chest. Her breathing became more labored as she ground her teeth, not wincing at the taste of metal scraping against metal. In the dark recesses of her mind she mulled over yet another angle- one her thoughts merely glanced over but never took much stock in. It was rather, convenient, for a lack of better term, that Sybil was so forthcoming with helping Tez out after only knowing her for such a short while. Credits, falsified papers, coming to her apartment after every mission… While Tez couldn’t deny that surreal experience they shared on Coruscant, after learning more about the Force and its utilization it made her wonder- was that merely another one of Sybil’s illusions? Had Tez been coerced into thinking there was something more between them than there really was? While her hospitality had been out of kindness and devotion, was her time in the Magnanimous Major’s life coming to an end? Was Sybil preparing to walk out that door one final time? Tez’s mind shifted gears to prepare for the inevitable betrayal.

“I don't think I’m understanding the question,” Tez began as she felt herself losing control of the Force infused steadfastness she previously held. “Is what a friendship? Is that an existential question, or a genuine inquiry? Forgive me if I’m confused, but I was under the impression that we were, ah, friends. Or… is it that in my hubris I didn’t realize that this is actually a conscription, and I am here serving you in the name of the illustrious First Order? You know what, why don’t you tell me if this is a ‘friendship?’ And if you can’t come up with an answer befitting your standards… If you can’t tell me what this is,” she implored, frantically motioning at them both with each pointer finger, “then I can’t either! Please tell me if the only thing I have ever truly believed in is actually false.”

 

[The Major]

Composure and mental fortitude represented highly sought after skills for the Force Sensitive, which was exactly part of Tez’s previous training revolved around steeling one’s mind and maintaining a type of poise. The Force was a tedious thing: able to assist and to betray all the same. In this case some of thoughts and emotions that rambled through the dark haired woman’s brain came wafting in front of the much more predatory and honed mind of the Major, who could begin to detect the concerns floating like text through the air. Were this any kind of other situation where such exploitation was the design then surely this would have been a gold mine for the Fallanassi. Deep could the betrayal run -with Sybil playing with food, complete with a feline grace- while gaining yet another seer type ally for use within the Bureau. Forcing this individual into a such a hard life as yet another asset against the entropic Order of Ren would be a sweet boon, indeed.

Except that this wasn’t the Major’s intention, and she had over the last year developed a keen weakness: sentimentality.

At her core, Sybil was not a rotten individual -inclined to amorality, yes, but not despicable beyond the event horizon. The knocks taken to her psyche and the recovery only served to soften her edges even more. Of course, at large, she had to maintain appearances. Strength and merit was the only true currency within Supreme Leader’s First Order. This she had to continue; this she choose to indulge as a matter of entertaining her…. darker impulses.

So when Tez stood there, spiking in ten different directions as past, present, and future played their games upon the seer, and she saw the alternative paths cloaked in the paranoia of fear, Sybil couldn’t say what stood before her was a person eager to be used for a cause beyond her realm of understanding. What was detected was the dreaded specter of miscommunication. Misunderstanding. Misapplication of intentions. That zealous fiend was their true enemy. Speaking so plainly definitely wasn’t something she preferred to do, but if helped them both cut past certain barriers it would be worth it later.

She took a deep breath and took one step forward towards her friend. ​

“It’s existential. Allow some clarification….” Those blue eyes briefly flickered over to the open window as the light of the morning continued to fill the apartment with rays of golden amber light.

“Growing up, I learned of family -and we were close. But friends? We were taught never to rely on those types, or other people as a matter of fact.” Her hands waved along to the timing of her words, implying an exact sense of improvisation to this approach.

“So it’s a little hard to know when a friendship is going well or properly. It’s hard to know if it’s right. It feels right.” She took another step, looking left over to the counters where they spent so much time expressing over the weeks.

“Are you afraid of being fooled? That I’m only trying to pull you into work as my asset? Conscription, like you said? People seem to assume I have some master plan in the works for them: some method, some design -items to be used and thrown away like rubbish. It would be a fantastical nightmare, wouldn’t it. To be so obsessed over controlling every single person must be draining. Doesn’t that strike you as worn perspective: an old outlook, a failing philosophy designed to leave one alone in the end.” She stepped forward again, a mysterious twinkle shimmered in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone; not interested in controlling you. But! Seeing what friendship is from the outside looking in -having skirted the boundaries of friendship before, I can tell you that unfortunately: perhaps to your inconvenience, and perhaps to the ruination of whatever *this* is…” Sybil motioned with the index finger of left hand between them, much like Tez did before, again stepping forward within arms reach of her compeer.

“.... I have to ask: is this friendship? That’s the context of the question. Because I don’t want that.” Now she pushed beyond the personal space bubbles and grabbed gently at Miss Bola’s hands, calmly moving them upwards while embracing them within her own. Hers were smooth and soft to the touch, unlike the talons that the Major thought her hands felt like.

“I regard you as something more.”

[member="Tez Bola"]

 

[Tez Bola]

Enraptured, Tez kept her eyes upon [member="The Major"] whilst she crept her way closer to the other side of the room. Her wild excitement lessened slowly as she listened, and hung on to, to the words her dearest one spoke. Tez felt like she had been waiting for this moment, and the clarity it would bring, for a lifetime. She hoped that in these few moments all doubts would be eased and that she would be flooded with the relief and solace she had craved.

With each closer step Sybil made, the impatient one’s anticipation grew. She thought ahead to the next few moments, biting at the bit with a spirit full of determination.

Upon Sybil’s tender touch, Tez’s mind was transported.

The fabric of time stretched itself taut as images of another life filled her conscience. This was a life she had only remembered in sharded fragments when she tried to recount her dreams the following morning. This was life she always tried the hardest to experience in the waking world. It was a life ripe with beauty she had never seen before in other dreams or in the real world. It was a life rich with a culture she had only read about, and contained pleasures she could in no way ever afford.

From a distance, the emerald eyed one saw a little resort town. On the outskirts there was a still and massive lake wrapped around by a large wooden boardwalk. All along the boardwalk were vendor’s stalls selling anything from novelty items and trinkets to fried crispic and mulled wine in ceramic goblets. There was a snowy mountain range where skiers could be seen having fun traversing the slopes. Cobblestoned streets led to boutiques, bakeries and wineries. As the lone figure walked, brassy night music filled the crisp air. She paused in front of an exclusive nightclub, where the doors were open and a jazzy tune made its way out into the street. Tez closed her eyes and smiled as her skin prickled in serenity. After several moments, she heard footsteps from within the club and smelled the aroma of a cigar- its smoke sweet and familiar. When she opened her eyes, there stood a woman. This woman was tall- too tall- with long wispy black hair and gleaming glasses. Tez was about to say hello but the flash of sharp pointed teeth made her pause. This...woman... stepped forward and

Gun shots.
Sounds in the air akin to the crack of lightning. Over. And over. Once more for good measure.

Tez asked her to repeat the question. She then

Blood.
Dark crimson life force filled the streets but not a body in sight. Whose was it?

Taking a step back she reached for

Pain.
Physical, internal torment. Mind and body divided and unsettled.

ran, as the amorphous creature

Fire.
Searing, blinding; choking on smoke.

“There has to be a way out!” she cried to

Dysmorphia.
I am, (who?) she is, (who?) we are (where?) ---

flesh ripped as lookers on

Death.
Loneliness festering. TAKE ME OUT OF THIS PLANE.

Then a voice- that voice- which saved her from the abyss yet again:

“I regard you as something more.”

Tez felt her heart swell as she regained her sense of placement and normalcy. She smiled while squeezing the fingers that held hers, reveling in their warmth and comfort.

“I had hoped that was the case,” Tez replied breathlessly. She smiled nefariously as she stepped upon her toes reaching for lips only just beyond her own.

 

[The Major]

https://youtu.be/ekf1ttmZSao​

Sybil, that old hunter, catching and caught both as a spider and fly, leaned into this other person, joining in touch.

In the midst of what should have been a reverie -a time and place to bask in the radiation of lips so tender, a transportation of the self beyond the boundaries of a mortal coil, of spinning like jetsam in the midst of a whirlpool to its warm center in which a crack, its own thermal vent in a spreading seafloor, produced the very heat that defined the soul, down further and further in the spinning web of affection, attraction, compassion, and appetition, past the tingling pinpricks of nervous flares and the sudden explosion of cozy, tiny dots which flowed from the point of contact around her mouth and down into the core of her being- in the midst of all that, Sybil could sense something around the edges.

Something foreign. A distraction. An enemy. It was rotten to its core, unlike the bubbling fountain of joy the Fallanassi could feel emanating from her marrow. Ironically this flash coming from the green eyed seer, though fantastical and inscrutable grounded the kiss in a harsh light of reality. Problems always hung unto life, and their life would, one way or another, prove to be quite contentious.

In this veil of conflicting happiness and concern Sybil could not deny she felt emboldened. A path of closeness was now laid out. She only had to walk its considerate passage with the same kind of openness as today.

At least, all such considerations would have been so complicated if they actually occurred in a coherent sequence inside the Almanian woman’s brain. Instead, she came away dumbstruck, as if the very blood of her brain was drained out and filled with a blissful, gentle drug.

How much time had passed? A second? A minute? An hour? Sybil couldn’t say. The first thing she realized was that somehow during the exchange her rather enterprising hands had teased their way out of Tez’s, instead finding themselves tightly wrapped about her friend’s hips. Because this wasn't something the good Major made a habit of doing, it surprised her immensely: due to both being surprised by its forwardness, and how exquisite she found the physicality of touching Tez’s shapely yet firm waist was. Not wanting to skirt the boundaries of propriety, or cave in to the sudden longing she felt encompassing the front of her ever guilty body, Miss Shepard retreated a step from this frontline. Bemused by the quickening pulse throbbing in her chest, she murmured like one does when sharing secrets.

“Truly, we could color the hours.” Splendorous, she nearly continued but her eyes quickly widened from shock of her thoughts, and something akin to urgency took place of affability.

“Come with me on this next assignment! Why should we separate? Why should we have to wait to see each other again?”

[member="Tez Bola"]​