Private Prophecy of the Four: Revelations

[Vizion Trozky]

FATE'S BASTION
THE APARTMENT OF VIZION TROZKY ☛ TEMPLE DISTRICT ☛ CORUSCANT
Briana Sal-Soren
Attention: Romi Jade

While he had travelled all the way to Naboo at her behest for the Gala, he had not seen more of Briana than what he did at a distance, her partner having rightfully eaten up the majority of her time that night. It was all well and good, for he couldn't know whether he would have been able to not potentially ruin her evening with what he knew. What he had seen.

But then she reached out to him, some days after that evening, asking to come by for a visit. To give him a modicum of time that she hadn't been able to afford him on Naboo. He was… careful not to see anything more into it than what it was. Just a social call, that could have the hope of furthering the mending of the rift between them. That is, if he didn't have the full intention of being forthcoming, this day. Transparent.

It was hard to say what effect this truth might have, but ahead of her arrival, he did his utmost to not wallow too deeply in misgivings and what-ifs. Tried to focus on his resolve that she, if anyone, deserved to know… even if he wasn't sure how she would take learning of her potential fate. Some people never wanted to know. Then the knock at his door came, and after passing a check on his doubt, Vizion rose and walked over to the entrance to his sparse abode, hesitating lastly with his hand on the doorknob before turning it and pulling the door open. The sight of her on the other side of the threshold easily, instantly put some form of smile on his face as it nearly always did - a weary one, in the now. So often as of late that was the case.

"Briana," he said in greeting, the vaguest pause separating her name from the rest of his oncoming words, "I was glad you reached out the other day, and I'm glad you've taken the time to drop by, now." He stepped aside, "Please, come in."

Vizion let go of the door, half-shuffling away as he was still a little bit hampered by the effects of his injuries, and would shut the door gently with a flick of the Force once she was within.

"May I get you anything? Tea? Caf?--" His thoughts ever so briefly flitted over to the near-empty bottles of liquor in the cupboard, but... no, this was to be done sober; there was no speaking for how he might feel after, however. His brows lifted in query, as he turned around to face her again. "--Water?"

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: Coruscant | Tag: Vizion Trozky ​

Seeing Vizion the night of the Gala had given Briana some small, twinkling sliver of hope that the door between them was still open — no matter how narrow that pathway seemed, and was glad when he'd agreed to meet with her after they'd failed to reconnect that night.

There was a brief period of time when she'd worried that he didn't want to see her, having heard nothing after he'd woken up from his coma, despite going to the infirmary nearly everyday for weeks to check in on him, only to miss the day when he finally woke up. Not that anyone bothered to tell her. Instead, she was left to check her datapad each morning, equal parts terrified and hopeful. Terrified, that she might see a message waiting to tell her that the worst had happened. Hopeful, that she'd get news that everything was going to be okay. Neither had ever come, eventually hearing through secondhand sources that Vizion was awake and going through the process of physical therapy.

At that, she hadn't known what to think.

After all, the situation between them was... difficult, their relationship having felt frozen for years — bound by invisible chains that prevented them from moving forwards or back.

Yes, they'd learned to work together, to be in the same room together, but nothing was ever the same after that night on Hapes and the regrettable choices they'd both made following it. The night that the ease of their closeness had officially ended. Maybe he'd finally decided that trying to salvage the pieces of what was left of their friendship just wasn't worth it.

But then, another part of her, the logical side, suggested that he probably needed some solitude and time, patience on her part. His physical injuries had been extensive and the healing process would require more than a simple immersion in bacta to restore him to his former state, not to mention the potential psychological battles he was likely facing. So, she'd held out hope and sent the invitation.

Now she was here, in his home.

"Briana," he said in greeting, the vaguest pause separating her name from the rest of his oncoming words, "I was glad you reached out the other day, and I'm glad you've taken the time to drop by, now." He stepped aside, "Please, come in."

"I'm glad you had the time to see me," Briana said, acknowledging his greeting with a warm, yet measures smile. "Wanted to see you, check on how you've been doing." her gaze briefly followed his shuffling gate, feeling her heart and stomach somehow simultaneously twist into one large knot before looking away, focusing on taking in the surroundings of his apartment as she followed him further inside.

It was all so... distinctly Viz. Open, airy, sophisticated... yet... calm.

"May I get you anything? Tea? Caf?--" His thoughts ever so briefly flitted over to the near-empty bottles of liquor in the cupboard, but... no, this was to be done sober; there was no speaking for how he might feel after, however. His brows lifted in query, as he turned around to face her again. "--Water?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather if you just sat down and relaxed. Maybe I could put on the kettle for us both? Hm?" She might not be able to cook, but putting on some water to boil? That much she could do.

 

[Vizion Trozky]

FATE'S BASTION
THE APARTMENT OF VIZION TROZKY ☛ TEMPLE DISTRICT ☛ CORUSCANT
Briana Sal-Soren

Some part of Vizion knew what she meant by her words, but recent events had left wounds just as deep on his mind as they had been in his body - those words impacted his psyche harshly, cutting into him in ways she did not intend, nor could predict. A hardness bled into his gaze, and his brows pulled together while the corners of his mouth wavered into a line, then under it. His fingernails dug into his palms.

“I don't… need… ”

The seething staccato of his response died as quickly as it had lived, his jaw tensing, then working itself loose as he struggled to pull himself back in. What he had been through must have been what a bug felt when being crushed by a swatter, yet managed to live; that, in concert with the long process of healing and rehabilitation tore into, shredded his pride. No matter how well-intentioned her request, it stung as if it were an insult, and reminded him starkly of his present limitations.

It impressed upon him that he was incapable. Helpless. It was him that had always taken care of her… or… or it used to be. If not for the help of the therapist he had been working with these many weeks, he might not be able to crawl out from under that deleterious belief. Viz’s head turned just enough to put Briana out of his line of sight, as shame crept in at the mere fact that he had been so close to taking his struggles out on her, and his eyes squeezed shut, moisture pricking at the corners. None of this was her fault; he knew this. And in knowing that, willed himself to breathe.

“Sorry… I–”

Quiet, quivering words that eked out of him a scant collection of moments after the previous ones. It was a struggle to find words at all when he had never planned to be seen in the throes of his lowest states if it could at all be helped, and a hand went to his face as weariness, as growing shame began to overtake him in ebbing waves, causing him to waver faintly on his feet. Causing him to be stuck in place.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: Coruscant | Tag: Vizion Trozky
​

Briana should have been wiser with her words, a mistake she only realized after seeing those familiar obsidian eyes of his harden on her. As vigilant as she was to not let her gaze rest longer than a fleeting moment on his unfortunate leg, her tongue was not as schooled, often betraying her with a brazen lack of finesse. She flinched at his clipped words and the escalating intonation of his voice.

'Everyone needs help sometimes,' she wanted to counter, but silenced herself, biting the impulse away. A departure from the brazen recklessness of her youth. Another change that'd taken root during her time apart from him.

Instead, Briana waited. Silent as a steadfast sentinel. She'd stand there all night while he unburdened himself, if that's what he needed. Viz had done the same for her sake on countless occasions throughout their childhood, the very least she could do now was allow him whatever catharsis his anger might afford him. Afterall, it was a rare thing to see that ironclad control of his slip, and she couldn't help but think of how foreign all those feelings must have been to him.

Feelings of being diminished, of powerlessness. But if there was anyone who understood the discomfort of vulnerability, it was Briana herself.

But the barrage never came. Instead, Vizion turned away with an apology on his lips. Briana frowned at that, then walked slowly to him. Wordlessly, instinctually, she enfolded his waist in her arms, resting her head against the steel-like warmth of his back - a quiet offering of support and solace for the man who had once been her partner-in-crime during the sunlit days of innocence. Her long lashes pressed down to rest against rosy cheeks, relishing this familiar warmth that'd been missed for what seemed like ages.

"Forget the tea then," she murmured softly. "Let's just talk."

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

FATE'S BASTION
THE APARTMENT OF VIZION TROZKY ☛ TEMPLE DISTRICT ☛ CORUSCANT
Briana Sal-Soren

She could have pushed back, and moved forward with making the tea regardless of his sharp protest; it wouldn’t be out of reason for him to expect that kind of response. How disconnected from one another they’d become, such that when Briana pressed into his back and wrapped her arms around him, it wasn't a thing he'd been expecting at all.

His head lifted and turned from his hand in tandem with the other arm lifting out of the way in some measure of surprise, as his sides and abdomen tensed at the contact… and twinged mildly in warning. Prompting him to suck in a short breath between his teeth, and release the tension on the out breath as his head turned back to the fore and his arms lowered.

Negotiating some distance from the pain in his mind had been part of tolerating this most recent period of his life. Accepting being handled with that degree of detachment was necessary then to subsume his wounded pride and let go of the associated anger as much as he could manage, so that he could progress in his recovery.

Much like he had detached himself over the past few years, and avoided letting anyone close, since. The argument in his mind now was whether he should let himself be that numb, or accept her touch for what it was - a matter of consolation - and all the risk he would be opening himself to by persisting on this course, now that he could see how difficult it would be to get through the night by any measure intact. But in reality there was no choice.

His chin dipped with a reluctant sigh after some moments, “I don’t know that I’d be able to sit,” he muttered quietly, the anxious energy returning as he opted to press on, “being honest,” he forced that word out, then paused again before pushing through the rest, “you might want to, after hearing what I have to say.”

There it was. Starting to tear back the tape, and every hair along with it.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Vizion Trozky ​

Briana could feel the way Vizion's muscled body tensed beneath her arms; the anxiousness that he unconsciously telegraphed through the Force as the two of them stood there together. Their bond may have atrophied from years upon years of disuse, but the emotion coming off him in waves was strong enough that it broke along those diminished pathways, forcing them open again.

Silence fell after that, filled only with the sound of his shaky breathing and the tick of his heartbeat. Her hands tightened a little more securely around his waist, holding him close and closing her eyes, almost pleading. Whatever conversation he was trying to work up the courage to starting, Briana had a feeling she didn't want to know. She'd had enough fighting and division to last her a life time, and then some.

His chin dipped with a reluctant sigh after some moments, “I don’t know that I’d be able to sit,” he muttered quietly, the anxious energy returning as he opted to press on, “being honest,” he forced that word out, then paused again before pushing through the rest, “you might want to, after hearing what I have to say.”

The irrational thoughts from earlier swung back with a vengeance, those words echoing through her and turning everything inside her watery and frail. It seemingly confirmed everything she'd been trying to tell herself wasn't true.

That whatever was left of their friendship, of them, was over.

Her jaw clenched, arms falling slack to her sides as she released him and took a step back. "If you don't want to see me anymore," Briana began, her upper lip curling of its own volition, though she forced her voice to remain sounding neutral. "Then just say so. I'm a big girl, I can handle the truth."

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

FATE'S BASTION
THE APARTMENT OF VIZION TROZKY ☛ TEMPLE DISTRICT ☛ CORUSCANT
Briana Sal-Soren

Her jaw clenched, arms falling slack to her sides as she released him and took a step back. "If you don't want to see me anymore," Briana began, her upper lip curling of its own volition, though she forced her voice to remain sounding neutral. "Then just say so. I'm a big girl, I can handle the truth."

The way her arms slacked and fell away in response to his words lead him to believe she was going to take a seat, perhaps at the table and two chairs by the window - they came as a set; it was only ever him and his ghosts, here - but in the same instant it became obvious that they were both making assumptions. His actions, his avoidance of her over the years had earned him exactly what she was dishing out… but not wanting to see her again? That was far, far, far from the mark.

His mind revved into overdrive at the mere suggestion, eyes widening and fists clenching as a plethora of retorts vyed for dominance in his thoughts; her neutral urging nonetheless provoked him to whirl around to face her, frustration and anger welling in his throat…

“For Force Sakes, Briana!”

…only to promptly lose his balance and stutter one foot back in a successful bid to re-establish stability. “Feck!” he spat, that same frustrated anger continuing to bleed out of him as he persisted in recovering his normal, upright stance, and searched for a way to steer the conversation back to its intended course. He was trying to get to the matter that had weighed on him these few long years, and doing a terrible job of it.

“That’s the last thing I want,” he managed, exasperated, raising open palms when he came around to facing her again, “the last thing I ever want.” It scared him. Vizion dropped his hands, settling into steadying, calming breaths despite how unsure he really felt. On with it, then.

“I never wanted to hurt you, either, but,” again, that same reluctant, weighty sigh, “for that, I can only offer you the truth.” And by it, clarity. He had apologised enough for what had gone on that night. Vizion approached the table, offering her a weak smile that belied the fear inextricably entwined with that truth, as he ambled past. “Please,” he implored her as he pulled out a chair and invited her to sit with a gesture towards the seat, “allow me to explain.”

He rested his hands atop the back of the chair, keeping his breathing steady while fear and doubt tried to claw him back, screaming at him to not do this. He watched her, instead, every move, every expression - twice already in so few minutes had he gauged her wrongly. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again, if it could be helped.

“I only ask your honesty in return, and that you reserve any judgements on my place in your life until after. At best you’ll think I’m crazy... I can live with that.” He’d taken a lot of time - literal years - to think this through. He'd come to accept that they could never go back. “At worst--” there was that weak, wavering smile, again. He shrugged; she’d already said it, he couldn't. As if speaking it would make it real. “--but that’s not my choice to make.”

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Vizion Trozky​

Her cheeks flushed red at his tone — the rare one that he took on to imply she was being irrational, ridiculous. He didn't need to outright say those things, for her to understand it. Part of her felt like she should be annoyed at him, for being annoyed at her — if he didn't want her jumping to conclusions, then he should have communicated with her better.

...Not that you're one to talk.

But when he spun too quickly to face her and nearly fell, that building desire to go toe-to-toe with him sluffed off and she found herself instead moving to his side out of instinct, offering her hand to try and keep him balanced. Perhaps she shouldn't have, given his previous reaction to when she'd offered to help him — then again, he could take that damn wounded pride of his and shove it in the Nether.

"Quit being such a fraking stubborn nerf brain already. Do you want to re-aggravate the injury?" she asked rhetorically, sliding her fingers beneath his elbow without hesitation to help him stabilize on his feet and regain his balance.

True to form, though, Vizion righted himself before she could actually do anything meaningful to help him, immediately taking on that presence of still-water calm that she'd come to expect from him over the years, pulling out a chair and inviting her to sit down.

She glanced between the chair and the pleading expression in his eyes. If she kept pressing, they were only going to end up going around in circles all night. It wasn't an issue either of them would relent on, and also not what was most pressing — if his presence through the Force was anything to go by.

Briana pulled a deep breath into her lungs and folded her arms as she listened to him speak.

She'd learned to live with many things—regret, anger, and the weight of unsaid words. Could she live with hearing whatever truth he spoke of laying at her feet? The same that'd left him so apprehensive and fearful?

Walking slowly to the chair, Briana perched herself as comfortably as she could get. Both hands folded in her lap, her expression open and expectant. The warrior, the friend, the woman who had once stood at his side — was offering him the chance to speak. Perhaps they'd find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between them, or at the very least, maybe she'd understand the forces that'd driven them to opposite sides of a chasm neither had intended to create. "Whatever you have to say, whatever you want to say — I'll listen, and I promise to give you my honesty in return, as you've asked." No matter what that honesty might look like.

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

FATE'S BASTION
THE APARTMENT OF VIZION TROZKY ☛ TEMPLE DISTRICT ☛ CORUSCANT
Briana Sal-Soren

Vizion lifted his hands from the back of the chair, only helping to tuck Briana into the table before slipping away from behind her and placing himself opposite, in the chair at the other end. Settling in, shuffling his seat into place, the Brentaalan then brought his forearms to rest on the surface, and folded his hands together in front of him. His head bowed initially as he reined in his thoughts.

“Before I get into it,” he began, finding his mental footing and lifting his head and eyes to give his undivided attention to she who had been his oldest and dearest friend… once, “I… want you to know that there is no outcome I expect from this,” he was trying to be clear, careful, “and that I know there… is no going back, for us.”

She had to know where he was at. Where his mind had ended up. They were both different people now, changed, for better or worse, and he wasn’t certain if he could have done anything differently. He blew out a heavy breath, and gave a momentary, firm smile. This was the first hurdle, admitting what he never, and perhaps should have said.

“I... did always love you, Briana,” Vizion spoke softly, his brow knitting together faintly, “I hope you know that.” And he would have done just about anything she asked. To an excessive point, at times. It was hard not to, back then. Watching her for a shade of a moment, he swallowed, and pressed on. “So when I tell you what tore us away from each other wasn’t at all duty, but fear,” and not of commitment, he hoped she had known him better than to come to such a conclusion, “When have you ever known me to be afraid? Of anything?”

This was important; it was context for why they were here like this. His deepest fears had to do with identity - not wanting to become what his forebears had been - and… losing her. Which he had nigh-on convinced himself he had, in every single way that mattered... or at the very least, he was open to the permanency of that risk. It hadn't been easy to get to this place.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Vizion Trozky ​

Briana let out a breath, a soft, almost inaudible sigh that somehow seemed extremely loud in the silence that'd followed his admission, as if the wind itself had quieted just to hear what her response would be.

"Fear," she repeated, the word feeling strange, yet fitting as it left her lips. "I always imagined it was something else, something I'd done, or... wasn't enough of." She rubbed her forefinger and index against the corners of her eyes, as if to stave off the tension building behind them.

For years, she'd harbored the belief that it was her own shortcomings and imperfections that'd been the barrier that kept him at bay — that failing, that sense of being found wanting by the one person whom she'd believed would forever stand by her side—defend her, embrace her, love her, despite her myriad flaws—had cut deeper than she could ever express. She'd been spiteful towards him because of it, and unwittingly, played as significant a role in their estrangement as his shadowed silence. "You always seemed so certain, Viz. So sure of your path. And when you pushed me away..." She paused, a flicker of the old pain crossing her features before she composed herself.

It was like being severed from an anchor I didn't know I needed.

"I won't lie and say it doesn't hurt, knowing our friendship frayed to near breaking because of a fear you wouldn't share all of this time. But...I know that whatever it was, it was because you felt like it was the right... maybe only thing to do. Even if it meant giving up what we had." Or rather, the possibilities they were never afforded.

"But...what's done is done. We've both walked paths since then that have shaped us. I'm engaged to Aiden now, and he's a good man. I want happiness, Vizion... after everything that's happened... and I've found a measure of it with him."

A soft sigh escaped her as she continued, "But there's a part of me that will always care for you, will always love you and wonder." She folded her hands in her lap and straightened up her spine, as if she were bracing herself for whatever other revelation he was about to lay at her feet.

"We can't change the past, but we can make peace with it. So, tell me about this fear of yours. Help me understand. Because no matter what happens, I want to walk away from this conversation knowing that the rift between us wasn't just some... tragic miscommunication."

​