Pull Me Under (Complete)

[Jairus Starvald]

Cerbera looked up.

Way up towards the face of the guardian. All shadows melding into shadows with deep fire burned into the depths, it was a menacing sight to be sure. But the Sith Lord had lost her ability to fear a long time ago and every step she took was one with purpose, because there was no fear for what might come. She had looked into the abyss, it had stared back and it was Cerbera who judged it to be too light for purpose.

"You will find, darling," Cerbera whispered softly while revealing something out of her pockets. A gem, crystallized lattice wrapped into several dimensions.

The hyper-gem was a curiosity amidst the Falleen, but treated properly?

Green-skinned and bathing in dark Cerbera smiled her smile and then squeezed the gem, it burned her hand and then landed at the feet of the Shrike.

"-I do not respond well to threats."

It was almost as if intent activated the hyper-gem, a hard hiss and then suddenly reality warped around it, causing a sub-atomic void to literally suck the spirits into the lattice. Cerbera snorted, wandering over and crouching by the gem, holding it once again. It was cold now... so cold.

"Now then, let's see where our girl is, shall we?" Head tilted, almost as if she was listening to the gem.

Just the smile continued as she rose again, continuing her path.

 

[Kuzo]

The mountain had been only a spiritual figment, offered as a stage by the Shrike now bound in crystal. But Irajah had believed in it's existence wholly- by the time she had reached it there had been no seperation between what was real and what was offered as a fantasy to test her. A test that, despite following the shadows' instructions, she had failed as far as the Shrike was concerned.

So when [member="Cerbera"] found her, she was still clinging to the summit of that mountain, trapped in her own particular version of hell. Boo wasn't there- he never had been, simply plucked from the experiences writ across her psyche and used as a final chance to do the right thing, instead of the selfish thing. But she had not merely bypassed that test, leaving it behind. When she had pressed her fingers to his heart, she had severed a part of herself utterly. A piece of the woman's soul was missing, the seepage of spirit slow, but if left unaddressed would eventually see her drained into the soil of the Netherworld itself. Like a limb severed, the wound would be the last of her if it had not been for the timely arrival of the Sith Lord.

"I'm here," came the murmured voice. "I did as you asked. I climbed. But there's nothing here."

This time, however, there was no answer from the shadows.

Instead a different voice answered.

"Cerbera?"

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Cerbera looked down to the little form clinging, the spirit was badly hurt, wounded, it was trailing essence of silvery haze and even now the path lit up that she had walked before.

"It's me." She crouched down, hand gingerly reaching out and touched her shoulder. The influx of memories, shards, feelings it caused her to collapse to her knees. Eyes closed, teeth gritting in pain as feelings were forced onto a shell that hadn't been privy to them in years. Frak, but as soon as it began?

It ended.

The Sith was still there, on her knees, leaning against the spirit-essence of Raj.

"Oh, darling... you have too much faith in what others wish you to believe." Cerbera mumbled, brushing some figment of silvery hair away from the spirits eyes. "...had too much faith, perhaps." Irajah wasn't complete. The wound... the wound was draining her dry, every so often she shrunk before her. Again Cerbera touched her - this time out of instinct - and where it touched the hole... light burned up between their surfaces.

It burned her hand, it hurt, but the Alchemist did not stop.

Surely, it was worse for Raj, whose essence was being seared shut, so she would not leak more of herself into the Netherworld.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah wasn't sure if it were actually [member="Cerbera"] or Cerbera. Wait. That made no sense. Did it? It wasn't until she touched her that the concept of Cerbera as a mirage fully codified. That was the difference. She had thought that everything looked entirely real before. But like a two dimensional creature trying to comprehend something in three dimensions, Irajah blinked in confusion.

She had walked through that desert for a lifetime. Or so it had felt. And she had seen colours, black and white and red so pure and vibrant that they hurt to endure. So what were these hues, forgotten until suddenly emerald and amber exploded across her vision. The sight of her hand cast through her shoulder drove home that Irajah was the shadow here. Until a moment ago, she had been the real one.

The fact that she had made it this far on her own was already minor miracle. The Netherworld wasn't set up with gentleness in mind. For a Master of the Force to enter it, or to leave it again under their own volition, certainly. But Irajah was no force Master. Until she found herself here, she'd barely even known a place like this existed beyond the briefest of namings.

The reality of Cerbera over laid the illusions of the Netherworld, both existing against and through each other. Her words warbled in the air, and it was difficult to parse them fully, as if they were being spoken through a wall of water. She heard them, but did not in this moment comprehend.

But the pain that came next? That she understood.

She screamed, unprepared for the flaming brand against the wound. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized it. Cauterize. Seal. There was no stink of burning flesh here, however, just the hiss of something without physical presence going up in smoke.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

In that instance - whilst Cerbera was occupied saving the last vestiges of Irajah's soul - she let her guard down.

It was impossible to focus on both tasks at the same time, not when they were surrounded by chaos that was trying to tear away the parts that made Raj Raj. Their essence mixed as her spiritual source scoured the surface of Irajah's essence and tried to find any more impurities, any little wounds and cuts that she hadn't seen yet, in that moment Raj would sense more from Cerbera than anyone had in a long time. A name would stand out deeply scarred, hiding, overlayed by years of neglect, force, corruption and self-modified intelligence.

Cerita Sarova...

It whispered.

It beckoned, wanting to be free from its shackles, but before anyone could reach out, touch her... give the validation that would ensured power. Cerbera returned, sweeping in with focused, clear-cut and cold precision that rose like an unyielding tide.

Darling, you are humiliating yourself, stop making a scene, please. Cerbera whispered to her, before locking the door once more.

Now her focus returned to the task ahead. It didn't seem like there was anything else to do for Irajah, her soul was shredded to hell and back, but some of it would repair itself across time. The larger issue had to be investigated once they returned. This was not the place... not the time, this was not a place for recovery or introspection. Chaos ruled here and order was flaundering around. "Irajah, we must go now." Without any other word she scooped up the wisp of essence.

Instead of going straight through her, her arms glowed silver and they felt would feel real.

 

[Kuzo]

It was difficult to register anything outside of herself or the pain. Spiritually curled in and around herself, subconsciously trying to protect the wound, she barely had the ability left to hold onto herself, let alone anyone else.

Cerita Sarova...

The name skirted across the surface of the slowly freezing ice. Withdrawing deeper into herself, she was walling off the pain because the alternative was to scream forever. Layer after layer of glacial walls put up one after another. She barely even noticed when [member="Cerbera"] scooped her up, only knowing as her words came filtering through, that it was time to leave.

The process of the return, of being forced back into a body of flesh and blood and bone would tax both of them. And connect them in a way that neither could sever without damaging them both. Neither expected it, neither looked for it, but once it was done it was done, and the bond would stretch long and low and subtle across the galaxy, a singing and gentle tension either could tug upon when the question of the other came upon their minds.

The Netherworld did not fully loosen its grip on Irajah Ven, when Cerbera took her from that place. And somewhere in the dark, a piece of the woman remained, huddled and lost. For now.