Return of the Aberration

[Mishel Kryze]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qC76ISsoQnU[/media]​

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The Bastion of Ren.

Mishel stood with a cane the weight of her body half against it and the other half slumped against the wall. The cybernetic hand gripped the rounded edge of the handle, damp hair pooled to one side. A black robe draped around her body with a single red cloth tying it together. She stood in her chambers however small it was, crowded by her equipment. The hallowed hall that led here was quiet with the light drifting in touching the ground. Shadows cascaded dripping over her figure as she looked at herself in the mirror and before her eyes she saw a healthier, stronger woman.

Mežsrožu.

"Such a pity you are," Mežsrožu would taunt from the mirror with the look of a devil about her, "so soft, so sweet and innocent the young Mishel Kerrigan."

A flash of anger appeared on Mishel's face.

Mežsrožu laughed with a malicious delight, "oh I'm sorry. Zanteres, I forgot Kerrigan rejected you, what was it ... Oh yes. Riona Kerrigan-Alcori, is dead. Her precious angel turned into this sweet monster before me. How pathetic, what a fool you have become my dear, what a fool."

"I am... not, soft."

"Oh but you are, but that's alright. Leave it all to me, your dearest friend, Mežsrožu."

There was no one else in this room, it was just Mishel in front of the mirror talking to Mežsrožu. The other woman in her mind, the woman she crafted when she realized that Mishel Zanteres could never be a Knight of Ren. Not really, not a true devoted Knight, for Sister Zmej had been right. Brother Kyrel was right as well, for anything that resembled love, and compassion needed to die. The only thing that was left for this galaxy was order, order by any means necessary. Pain and anger were but the tools in which to use, to fuel this goal for conquest across the galaxy. Only then could Mežsrožu, or Mishel achieve her full potential as a Master of Ren, the beloved daughter of Seiger here to bring his enlightened word to the masses.

[member="Samka Derith"]

 

[Samka Derith]

It was time for her rounds.

Every few days Samka Derith would explore the Bastion and check up on the various residents there. If she appeared to care somewhat for the well being of the others, it was a way to earn their respect and gratitude on a personal level. No one would remain a complete stranger for long. A quick conversation with every Acolyte was all it took to make them feel acknowledged and cared for by their leaders. It created a memory, an attachment to the person at the top. Manipulating attachment was something she did rather well.

The young woman sensed something concerning coming from one of the rooms she passed. A quick glance told her all that she needed. [member="Mishel Zanteres"]. To say the girl was troubled would be a grotesque understatement.

Repressing a sigh, already dreading what came next, Samka tapped on the door several times as a warning then entered. The sight that greeted her was the crippled girl in an apparent mess.

"Oh dear," Samka's head tilted to the side in apparent sympathy, her tone soft. "Has something happened?"

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mezsrozu reacted first to the words of Samka Derith, "no, not at all." She said with an almost too happy of a tone, it was hollow and devoid of any of Mishel's natural enthusiasm. Damp, dark hair puddled and matted on one shoulder with the Dosuunian-cotton made robe that clung to the trickles of water that had once rested as beads across the Tygaran's back. Her room in the Bastion was cluttered, the mirror held up by the two walls as they met into the corner. A bed plain as any with the creases created by the weight of the clothes selected. Mezsrozu kept Mishel quiet as she proceeded to talk and engage with Samka. "You needn't worry, master. I'll be out to train soon enough."

Inwardly as Mezsrozu turned and look at the mirror, she could see Mishel in her reflection yearning to be free. She did not pity the weakling. This was her own doing, her own machnications come true for Mishel needed Mezsrouz she concluded. Needed her to carry out the darkest of deeds with no hesitation. The younger of the two girls shuffled to the bed in a mocking fashion. More so to mock herself than anyone else. A bit of a giggle escaped as Mezsrozu supressed the other personality.

Outwardly it only appear on the surface that everything was alright, "in fact, I wanted to tell you, no show you for myself the deeds accomplished on Ossus." Without shame, she let the wet robe down and took to dressing into typical Disciple robes for the order. Carbon fibre patched over where the Jedi had stabbed, and where the Antarian Rangers had shot. Her body having now earned another set of battle scars, that would be concealed once more by clothes. As her cybernetic hand pulled the hood of the robe out from beneath its own weight. "Will you sit with me while I tell you of my deeds? You can confirm these deeds with the reports from Ossus just as well." She added as an afterthought, while she felt the weight of the bed shift and the creases within the plain white sheets move.

[member="Samka Derith"]​