Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Climb

Acaadi looked up at the lip of the platform. It wasn't that high above him, just above his head. He looked back down at his feet and placed his hands on his hips. Leaping to that height and landing on his toes had been a simple feat with the Force on his side. Today, every time he bent his knees to prepare a tremor of fear ran through him and he bottled out of the jump. Every time he fell it hurt. Now he seemed to have tried himself mentally against it.

He knew he would still stand here for another few minutes before admitting defeat. They had told him to take small steps. They had told him that he was lucky to be so young. He didn't feel lucky. He felt as if he had made a foolish mistake.

In battle or even training injuries were expected. Acaadi had found the hard way that there was a difference between the sudden, unexpected pain of a wound in battle and what he had been through. Chained by the wrists, waiting for the next round and knowing it was coming and that he was helpless to stop it was so far away from anything he had suffered before.

Acaadi finally stepped away from the platform and swore under his breath. He tried to encourage himself. His walk didn't have a limp any more. That was progress.

She hadn't come to see him.

The thought would pop into his head frequently. They had been through that together and above anyone else he expected his best friend to stand by him. Acaadi hadn't seen Kyra since she had walked out of that cell. He might have caught sight of her on the shuttle back. He knew she had come with them, but he hadn't been very lucid in those moments. Acaadi had woken days later in a bacta tank back on Kashyyk.

Kyra Perl Kyra Perl
 
Kyra's visit to Acaadi was a bit of an unwilling one, if one was to be honest. Caedyn had noticed her isolating behavior. And following events of the past weeks, it had been his charge to see the girl through the trauma and keep her on the right path. Kyra should have been there for Acaadi from the start, but after watching him be viciously beaten in front of her time and time again, she just-

And he-

She was a bad friend. That was her excuse. Either because it happened to him in the first place-- because she had gotten him in that position, or because she was too anxious to suck it up and visit him. She was full of excuses for why he was left without her support. And Caedyn wouldn't have any of them.

Sometimes, a band aid just had to be ripped off in order to heal. For her. For Acaddi. For their friendship.

She stood quietly in the door frame, her gaze apprehensive as she watched him stare at the platform. She drew no attention to herself. That wasn't part of Caedyn's orders. He said go to Acaadi. He said nothing about engaging him. At least ... not explicitly. Her anxiety left her clinging to that loop hole. Kyra likely would have approached Acaadi on her own after her awol mission, but there was something about being made to step the step when you weren't the one that chose it ...

Well, they all knew how Kyra was stubborn.

She watched her friend struggle, a lump in her throat, her fingers gripping the door frame apprehensively as she waited to be noticed. A part of her wanted to call out to him. She refrained, not wanting to...

Hurt him? The confliction over her part in his abuse left everything feeling complicated.

Thank the Force he was standing again. She half feared that'd never happen. A tear slid down her cheek.
 
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Acaadi turned towards the door and came to an abrupt halt. His heart leapt up his throat and stuck there. He frowned and smiled all at the same time.

Almost every night he had imagined how this meeting might go. He had thought of the questions he would reel off, the things he would explain to her about how he felt. His mind had been overwhelmed by everything that needed to be said until it became too much and he had to find something to distract himself with.

"Hi," he said.
 
“Hi,” Kyra responded tightly, clinging to the door jam. She swallowed hard, her gaze keen as it traveled across his body, looking for signs of his well being. He would feel the intention, thick in the air, as Kyra unconsciously scanned his mind in turn. Nothing deep. But never the less prodding and curious.

Was he alright? Please be alright

Guilt slid through the bond, dark and corrupting. There was no hiding it from him, the emotion bleeding from the eyes that slowly dragged back to his his.

“Are you sleeping?” The question bubbled up from her with no warning, bursting out with intensity that broke the tension between them.
 
Where he offered up nothing, she searched out on her own. He felt her there her presence brushing up against his own. It struck him that the world had been quiet without Kyra. Not in a good way.

He couldn't hide the splash of resentment that colour his thoughts, a streak that ran through the pain at being abandoned and the warmer sense of how much he had missed her. He had needed his best friend more than ever. It was a complicated, bewildering collection of feelings that he wasn't able to voice.

"Most of the night," he said, nodding slowly. He wrung his hands together in front of his waist. Acaadi had always felt that he was more sure of himself that most of the other novices. It hurt to feel as if he had been knocked down from that pedestal to try and start again.

"Needed some sedatives at first. It is not so bad now. I didn't..." Acaadi's face screwed up as he struggled to work through what he wanted to say. He waved one hand out to the side in exasperation and sighed.

"It is good to see you again. But I wish..." he trailed off, pursed his lips and looked down. He wished it had been sooner.
 
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Kyra shied back, his unspoken words ripping a hole through her that she felt in her chest. And they said emotions were all in your head. She was sorry, so sorry. For causing this, for not coming-- he was hurt because of her. Her. And he was left alone because of her. She was a shit friend, she loathed herself through and through. It was wrong for her to be here in this moment, his pain only reinforced the fear that she was bad for him.

But Caedyn had been pushing it, and unless she wanted to blow her chance and be kicked out ... Acaadi would have to forgive her coming and hurting him more.

She did not feel the warm relief from him. She only felt his pain and her guilt.

She was practically hidden behind the door jam now, the piece of wood a barrier between them. She clung to it, her forehead pressed into the sharp edges. "I went back for them!" She blurted out, desperate to tell him. "The- the children." He couldn't know that some had been taken away before help arrived. He had been chained up in the dungeon for that.

But she did.

"I finished it. What-what we started. They're safe now," she promised, her voice tight. Maybe he could sleep better knowing that. She hoped so. It was the only reason she thought she deserved to see him at all. The colorful bruises around her throat would make more sense now. Kyra had snuck out to do this. Again.
 
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"Oh."

That made a lot of sense. It also cast a light on his feelings and exposed how ugly some of them were. She was struggling to express herself, struggling beneath the weight of his own emotions.

Acaadi had expected that they would send people back for the stolen children. He hadn't expected that Kyra would rush off on her own. He should have done. Knowing the children were safe untied a knot in his feelings. The young mirialan frowned, looking around at the floor in case it held an answer. He wasn't supposed to be the one that struggled.

"Come here?" he asked, slowly lifting his gaze from the floor and lifting an arm towards her. "Gently."
 
Kyra shook her head, her body language expressing the emotions she could not. No, she couldn't come. Look at him, the state of his body was disturbing. But the defeated edge to his mind? It wasn't right. It wasn't him.

His need for her comfort dragged her forward, the girl stepping forward despite her own reservations. She had always been compelled to sooth other people's problems. And his dullness... she took reproachful steps towards him, each movement careful. Like she was approaching a wild animal. A spark of fear flared in her gut as she reached out, the concept of skin to skin contact daunting. But her arms gingerly encircled him anyway, wrapping him in a soft embrace.

Without even meaning to, a wash of pheromones meant to ease hit the air. She squeezed her eyes closed and hugged him a little tighter. "You're safe now."
 
Acaadi let out a stuttered sigh. Whether it was the pheromones or pushing past the hardest part of the reunion, but he felt as if each breath out carried away some of the tension that had gripped his chest.

"I missed you," he said softly, unable to think of anything else to say. He grasped the back of her top with both hands, taking fistful of fabric. He pulled her closer and as tightly as he dared. It had been one of the darkest periods of his life. Kyra had been away from Silver Rest before but it had felt like a very long time to go without his friend.

"You're not going soon?" he asked.
 
As he relaxed, so did she, the two left melting into the comfort of each others arms. The world had been cruel to them, and they were a long way from home. Kyra hadn't realized until this moment how alone they were in their struggles. A normal child could always go home into their parents arms. Home was a safety net, of care and love.

Silver Rest was a school, full of many children and masters, all moving throughout their day. There was only one place either of them could go to be understood.... accepted... embraced...

And she was holding it.

Her fingers griped him in return, her reserves dashed to the wind as she shook her head at his question. "No, I can stay." Flup doing the right thing, she needed him in this moment. And he needed her. He was family, and for better or worse, you are there when they need you.

She gingerly pressed her face into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes closed. "I'm so sorry," she uttered, barely audible.
 
Acaadi drew in a sharp breath, not quite a sob but close. One hand came to cradle the back of her head and he kept her close. Her warmth was a reassuring, as was the emotion in her voice. If she had been cold and indifferent he would have broken a little more.

"I know you feel so much," he whispered, even as anoyher part of his brain tried to shut his mouth. "I'm not really angry at you, you know? It's just...I've been a little lost and..."

That part of his mind trying to keep the silence finally won. If it hadn't he might had opened the taps and tried to explain everything in a few scant seconds. She knew him better than anyone. Trying to blurt it all out as hot tears welled in his eyes was not going to help anything.
 
And she had not been there for him.

Her insides churned and ground together, his pain and her own melding into one pit of darkness she didn’t know how to handle. She groaned for him, hot tears falling. His emotions fell unbidden from her body. She gripped him a little tighter, knees feeling week.

“I know,” was all she could say, the piece of her the sith has tried to break finally cracking under the aftermath of Acaadi’s torture.

She wheezed a hoarse sob, what they had endured unfathomable. He was was lost, and she should help him. But she just felt just as disoriented in this world they found themselves in.

And he had Always been the strong one— the one to hold them up. How could kyra possibly fill his shoes?

“We’re gonna be ok,” she lied, taking his old words and giving them back to him. It wasn’t enough, it couldn’t possibly fill the gap of her actions the last two weeks.

But it was a start.
 
Acaadi had to analyse whether he really thought that was true. It was the question he had been wrangling with when Kyra arrived. A sharp- improvement in his physical condition hadn't continued.

Far worse than the slow recovery was the tether he felt to those chains that wasn't weakening. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the shackles working through the skin of his wrists or the shadows of those acolytes surrounding him. Their leader was still out there somewhere.

"Can we go and sit down somewhere?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and quiet. He felt as if he needed to properly cry, but instead the pressure just seemed to build behind his eyes and against his temples.

He was glad she was here. That he could hold onto. Acaadi was very quickly realising how much he had missed her presence.
 
Kyra gave a sharp nod, pulling back. She fretted over, unsure at once what he was capable of. He would feel the urge to ask rise through her, but she bit it back. Somehow talking about it gave it legitimacy she wasn’t ready for yet.

Acaadi had been tortured. A sith tried to turn her. Couldn’t they for a moment be normal and sit together? Yes.

She let him lead her, unsure about where he was staying or what there was even for them to do. A lot had happened over the two weeks. ...A lot. She didn’t have the energy to tell him about her new master, so she settled instead for their concern filled silence. Their questions lingered unspoken between them, her hand around his back to help him move to the seat he chose. For once, she was quiet. But even as they sat, she didn’t let him go.
 
He walked with purpose, but with an awkward gait. Acaadi wanted to show Kyra that he was doing better, but he wanted that touch. It wasn't just Kyra who needed that comfort sometimes. It was reassuring.

The revelation that she had been back to retrieve the children had shifted his perception. He was aware that she didn't deserve any resentment, but he has known that before. Anger came in hot waves from time to time in a way he had never experienced before. It was directionless, but needed an outlet or else it would burn him.

"Bacta is a wonder," he mused as he sat down. Acaadi's gaze fell to his knees and stayed there as he tried to gather himself to look at Kyra directly. He wished that bacta could heal all wounds.
 
As his pain grow and festered, she had to pull back. She just had to. Her hands retreated around her body, pale and clammy as she groped at herself. There were no words for their shared suffering in that moment. There was nothing to say that could asway his, or her, pain. There was only them, existing together. She sat there will him, sharing the burden.

His statement was a welcomed distraction from both their thoughts, Kyra glancing up quickly in response to his voice.

"....Yeah? Did they stick you in the tank?" As much as she didn't want to know the extent of his injuries-- it would only haunt her further-- the tank was a fascinating subject for her.

He would know why.
 
"Yeah...waking up in that thing is not normal," he replied with a shake of his head. This was easier. Despite being quite a traumatic moment, complaining of these things in the past sense was like being two teenagers gossiping over the latest academy rumours once more.

"You wake up to your own naked and distorted reflection. So its like a fat version of yourself. Then you realise you're in water but can breathe and in a confined space. Some droid comes over, tells you you're in a bacta tank and then walks off. Rude."
 
Kyra snorted, the sudden amusement catching in her throat. The spark of warm emotions startled her slightly. They almost felt wrong. Was it wrong to be happy? With him? ... for a moment?

Her expression sobered. She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, it’s... it’s just weird. Boring too. Until they put you out. ...they got you on any good stuff?” She chirped, glancing up. The girl was developing a slight focus on the pharmaceuticals. Nothing extreme, but very much expected of a native of Zeltros. He was not spared from her interest.
 
"Oh yeah," replied Acaadi conspiritorially. He hadn't quite picked up on that as a trend, even after a few trips to nightclubs with her. Those occasions he assumed were purely social.

"There's this green patch goes on my arm," he said, lifting his sleeve. "For the first couple of hours. It's like swimming in your own brain. What's weird is that they keep telling me to rest, but also to keep active to make sure everything heals right. Doesn't make sense does it?"

It was nice to teak a break from self-reflection or physio to just sit and talk.
 
Kyra peeled clear to the patch, giving it a curious inspection. “Nothing here makes sense,” she noted with a sigh. She pulled back, letting him release his shirt and settle back. Already, it was easier to talk to him. It was kinda surprising, how quick they could fall back into things. She didn’t resist it. She had missed him too.

“So,” she huffed, glancing around to see if they were alone. “They letting you out of here, or...” does he just sit here alone and struggling. She didn’t like these halls.She squirmed, already wanting to break out for the trees and the sky and-... away from these reminders of what they had done.
 

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