Alric Kuhn
Handsome K'lor'slug
The game had always been about one thing.
Winning.
That was the objective. That was the goal. It was with every game. One played to win. Alric Kuhn's great game was entirely the same. He played so that he could win. He played so that everything he did mattered, so that he got enjoyment and a sense of drive out of. He played to win. That was the way it had always been, that was the way it had been since his Sisters had taught him the great game.
They had never thought of the game as an overarching life philosophy of course.
Violet and Fiona had never seen the game as a means of leading their lives. To them it had been a method of entertainment, a way to see themselves through days spent with an absent father and abusive mother, a way to keep going.
For Alric, it was so much more.
He viewed the game as his life. Everything and anything was a game. The rise of Titan, the founding of Astraeus, the paths he had taken with Danger. It was all a game in one way or another, all something that Alric was partaking in simply to win. It was how he survived. It was how he coped. In a galaxy where he had no family, where he had no one close, it was how he had managed to not only survive, but thrive.
There had never been a question of what the game was. He had always known, and no one else had ever asked. It was simple to him, the game of the galaxy. The way things moved and flowed, each action and every reaction being like a move and a counter-move on the Dejarik board. It was simple, it was meaningful, it was something that he had always understood, something that had always made sense to him.
But now...
For the first time in what seemed like hours Alric looked down at what lay in his hands.
There, within his open palms sat a small necklace, a knotted bundle of what appeared to be some sort of cloth, woven together and coming to a crest of platinum.
This was what made things different. This was what had changed the game. It was what no longer made any sense to him. He stared at it, bright icy blue eyes following the subtle knit of the webbing, scaling over the platinum clasps, and stopping over the crest. The crest was of his house, of the Kuhn family of which he was the last. He thought that would mean something, though he had no idea if she would even recognize it.
He stopped for a second as he thought of her, swallowing hard as her face came to mind. A deep breath left him, and his head shook from side to side.
She confused him. She confounded him, drove him to the edge of madness only to pull him back with a kiss and a touch. The way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him, the way she fell into his arms and surrendered to him. She broke him.
With a simple word she could end him. With a simple flick of her wrist she could bring all his plots and plans to a halt, and it was not because of her power in the force.
He frowned, his eyes shifting up away from the choker and towards the viewport that lay in front of him. He tried focusing on something else, he tried moving his thoughts away from what he was doing, he tried to think of something, anything at all that was not her.
But he couldn't.
Alric Kuhn for the first time in his life found himself doubting the game.
Winning.
That was the objective. That was the goal. It was with every game. One played to win. Alric Kuhn's great game was entirely the same. He played so that he could win. He played so that everything he did mattered, so that he got enjoyment and a sense of drive out of. He played to win. That was the way it had always been, that was the way it had been since his Sisters had taught him the great game.
They had never thought of the game as an overarching life philosophy of course.
Violet and Fiona had never seen the game as a means of leading their lives. To them it had been a method of entertainment, a way to see themselves through days spent with an absent father and abusive mother, a way to keep going.
For Alric, it was so much more.
He viewed the game as his life. Everything and anything was a game. The rise of Titan, the founding of Astraeus, the paths he had taken with Danger. It was all a game in one way or another, all something that Alric was partaking in simply to win. It was how he survived. It was how he coped. In a galaxy where he had no family, where he had no one close, it was how he had managed to not only survive, but thrive.
There had never been a question of what the game was. He had always known, and no one else had ever asked. It was simple to him, the game of the galaxy. The way things moved and flowed, each action and every reaction being like a move and a counter-move on the Dejarik board. It was simple, it was meaningful, it was something that he had always understood, something that had always made sense to him.
But now...
For the first time in what seemed like hours Alric looked down at what lay in his hands.
There, within his open palms sat a small necklace, a knotted bundle of what appeared to be some sort of cloth, woven together and coming to a crest of platinum.
This was what made things different. This was what had changed the game. It was what no longer made any sense to him. He stared at it, bright icy blue eyes following the subtle knit of the webbing, scaling over the platinum clasps, and stopping over the crest. The crest was of his house, of the Kuhn family of which he was the last. He thought that would mean something, though he had no idea if she would even recognize it.
He stopped for a second as he thought of her, swallowing hard as her face came to mind. A deep breath left him, and his head shook from side to side.
She confused him. She confounded him, drove him to the edge of madness only to pull him back with a kiss and a touch. The way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him, the way she fell into his arms and surrendered to him. She broke him.
With a simple word she could end him. With a simple flick of her wrist she could bring all his plots and plans to a halt, and it was not because of her power in the force.
He frowned, his eyes shifting up away from the choker and towards the viewport that lay in front of him. He tried focusing on something else, he tried moving his thoughts away from what he was doing, he tried to think of something, anything at all that was not her.
But he couldn't.
Alric Kuhn for the first time in his life found himself doubting the game.