Private Rule of Nines

[Morrow]

"Why can't you just leave it alone?"

Morrow crossed his arms. Tightness in his shoulders and forearms mirrored the continued pinched state of his brow. He was obviously more than a little vexed, by the looks of him. Especially after the gesture he'd endeavoured to deploy, hoping that would've been the end of it.

"It won't change anything," he insisted.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Volatility was threatenin' to rear it's head again. Talin choked down a growin' rage, inching closer 'cross the mattress, until he was in reach again. No touch was offered - but her hand was placed in the gap between them. Blue orbs remained planeted on it, and the blonde summoned as much misery and hurt as she could cast 'cross her face. Wasn't too hard.

"It might." She gently insisted. "We could try."

Finally, her gaze flickered to meet his.

"Please let me try."

 

[Morrow]

"No," he refused again.

That pestiferous tendency of hers to obsess over even the smallest things that bothered him had never been more evident. Still, Talin's persistence was slowly becoming as convincing as it was trying. Deep down, Morrow wished he could let her in, let her take it all away, but it wasn't that easy. Morrow knew better.

Over their time together, he'd begun to associate her with small comforts and subdual, even if she was annoying. She had compiled a phenomenal record, even though Morrow wouldn't accede to any attempt easily. Giving up and relinquishing attempts to a kiss or silent assurance didn't seem to be on the table this time. Talin was about as dogged as the Lothwolf whom Morrow could sense curled up just outside the cabin door.

"I'll describe it to you," Morrow conceded. It was better than letting her try to divine it from his mind. That was still a hard line; no amount of prodding would break it.

"But you won't like what you hear."

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Well, that was weird, and about as clear as mud. Sandy brows knit together in confusion. Was that why he had been so reluctant - because he thought she’d be upset? Was he rollin’ around with another gal in his dreams? Maybe that woulda done it - but it didn’t make sense, didn’t explain the horror that dripped from his psyche whilst he slept. The still empty hand floated to rest on his thigh.

“You can’t control your dreams.” She reassured. “Not like I like mine, much, either. It’ll be okay. Just….”

The curly mane bounced with the bob of her head, urging him on.

 

[Morrow]

There was a lasting quiet while Morrow stared pensively, trying to figure out where and how to start.

"I'm not myself. I feel like me, but... I know I'm someone else." Even describing it, and knowing it wasn't real, Morrow looked confused. It was a confounding concept to wrap one's head around, even in the secondhand. "Anyway... I'm in a valley, and it keeps flickering between lush and barren. It's windy. There are a ton of massive statues carved into the rock. They're all robed, faceless, and have swords."

Morrow's eyes narrowed whilst staring into the distance. His features shifted strangely, as if he were growing uncomfortable. "There's a cave, a really deep cave. I go in, all the way to the bottom. It's almost pitch black, but I can see there are others down there too. They're all standing in a circle with one in the center. I don't know who they are, but I feel like I'm supposed to. I talk to the man in the middle, though I can't really make out what exactly he or I says. All I can tell is that I'm telling him something important, and he seems pleased, but I know I'm... I'm tricking him somehow."

Another pause.

"Then, they start chanting, and I'm just standing off to the side like I'm not there anymore. Almost like I never really was. It gets even darker. There's a black fog in the air. And then..." The next detail came at a lower volume, like he would have preferred to hide it. "...and then the Jedi come."

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Slow nods acknowledged bits and pieces, conveyed her full attention despite silence. A sense of apprehension settled in her shoulders the more he spoke. It wasn't him. It wasn't the future, then. Most details were vague enough they coulda been the mind warpin' perception, wrestlin' with some problem he didn't know he was workin' out. Still, the bad feeling persisted, churning her stomach. Maybe it was the mention of statues. That sure felt specific.

"Jedi?" Talin inquired with an arched brow. "Do you know them?"

He had met at least four, seen a few more on Sarko. Why else would all this be relevant?

"What happens next?"

 

[Morrow]

"I don't think so," Morrow replied. "It's the same as the people in the circle. I feel like I'm supposed to know their leader, but I don't."

"I feel the Jedi long before I see them. I don't know if that makes sense. I only see them in first place because their lightsabers cut through the fog, but barely. It gets darker the longer I'm down there."

Morrow hadn't even noticed he'd grabbed the hand Talin placed on his leg. "Some of the blades are green," he mentioned. A detail that wouldn't be important usually, but Morrow had only ever seen blue lightsabers before. "One hundred Jedi are surrounding the small circle of people chanting. I'm not sure how I know that, I never count them, I just know."

Hesitance grew, Morrow was taking longer and longer pauses between details. Not from a lack of memory, either. "The Jedi leader talks to the guy in the center of the circle. I can't make out what they're saying, but I know they don't like each other. They're enemies. And I... I hate them both. More than I've ever hated anything or anyone."

Morrow swallowed a lump in his throat. "Then..." he continued weakly. "The guy in the circle claps his hands together and-" A painful expression warped his face. "Everyone turns to dust, the circle, the Jedi, everyone but me. Except... they don't die. Not really. Instead, it's like..."

After the longest pause yet, Morrow swallowed again and elucidated their fate with one word: "Perdition."

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Horror wafted in the face between them, contorted his features, slithered through the threads that connected them and furthered Talin's own anxiety. A hundred Jedi. Not a lot, for the entire galaxy, but... enough. The fog reminded her of Meliant, and what lay trapped beneath his armor. If he hated them both, then he wasn't a Jedi or a Sith, was he?

"Perdition."

The word raised the hair on her arms. Something worse than death. Her mouth opened and shut several times before she was able to say anything.

"The sensin' part... that sounds like the force. You just know, sometimes. But... It's not you. It's not like mine."

That victory didn't carry the weight it should.

 

[Morrow]

Morrow kept going where Talin likely thought it was over.

"Watching it all fills me with... exultation? Like I've never been so proud of myself. I know whatever I told the man in the circle is what caused all of this."

Strange motions took his face again, like he was between horror and joy.

"I can hear them... their souls? Screaming, sobbing, babbling. At first, I revel in it. I can't stop laughing. But then, I start to feel more like myself, and it gets unbearable. I start clawing at my face. I see... Him? Me? Us? All the flesh comes off while I'm digging. It hurts. Until, eventually... It's my face."

Morrow's eyes squeezed shut as the echoes of their eternally tormented voices swelled in his head again. Again, without noticing, he was squeezing Talin's hand to the point of pain for both of them.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

"Ow, Morrow, I-"

Pain broke the threshold to release the statue she had become with his expansion. The free hand reached for his face, holding his cheek, offering any measure of comfort. His expression hinted that it was worse than anything her mind could picture.

"It's okay." She reassured.

But was it? If it was him... was it really him? Was he really capable of killing a hundred Jedi and being happy about the fact? His expression suggested no. Then again, she never thought she'd take up a blade that wasn't cerulean, either. It was dreams that suggested she'd betray that, too.

"It was just a dream."

Who was she trying to convince?

 

[Morrow]

All at once, his death-grip on her hand ceased. Retreating as if touching a stovetop, his arm darted away to join the other in crossing over his bare chest again. Stubble scraped across Talin's open hand as Morrow turned his gaze away again. A deep breath shuddered out of him, trying to regrasp some semblance of calm.

"You got what you wanted," he remarked, vaguely shoving blame onto Talin. It was fucking embarrassing. Morrow began to seethe faintly, feeling chagrin for having been seen like this. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

No way he was going back to sleep now.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

"Don't be mad at me." It was half pleading, half indignance. It was no surprise he hadn't wanted to tell her - but it was not her fault.

If it was going to continue being a recurrence, then at least now she knew what was wakin' the both of them up. Maybe she could think up some way to help. Maybe somethin' to knock him cold? The archived documents she had pored over didn't have much about stoppin' her nightly ailments, but maybe she just hadn't looked hard enough.

"I'm glad you told me. But talk can wait 'till tomorrow."

The hand dropped to his shoulder as she climbed to her knees, began inching towards him, hopin' to settle in his lap. Always the easy answer for comfortin' herself and stoppin' a fight both.

 

[Morrow]

This was a mistake. Even worse was the timing. Talin's declaration of commitment and Morrow's endeavor to affirm now felt diminished beneath this turbulence.

"Stop," Morrow declined. He put a hand on her chest, stopping her from crawling atop him, before he stood up abruptly.

There would be no consummation of their previous pledge. Closing the two-step distance between the bunk and the latrine, he disappeared behind the sliding door. Inside, he forced cold water from the faucet onto his face. After a few splashes, he checked the mirror as if making sure his face was still his own.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

“What th-?”

It took a moment to process what was happening, her eyes trailing him as he left the bed. Rejection wasn’t a feeling Talin was used to. Touch crossed canyons for them, a bridge to communicate everything they couldn’t get right with words. Tears welled at the corner of her vision when he finally disappeared behind the refresher’s doors. She had forced this rift - a fact that added anger to the mix. How could she be so dumb, especially after Denon? Would she ever learn to leave well enough alone?

Chokin’ down the lump in her throat, it was an effort to simply breathe. The air felt sparse. She had to get out of here. Risin’ from the mattress, she furiously stomped across the floor to jump into jeans and gather up her boots. A fist slammed angrily against the control pad as Talin padded away, lookin’ for a place to hide no one would bother her.