Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Handmaiden and The Trickster

The sunlight filtered through the mass of trees overhead, their white trunks glistening and green leaves trembling in the soft breeze, occasionally dropping, just to be swept away and lost in the current of Abbaji’s rainforest. The picture from where she laid on her back, faded in and out of visual perception. Teyla was certain that something in her body was broken, it wouldn’t be a first, what was odd was that she couldn't feel it.

Logically, she couldn’t explain it, just accept it. Accept that it felt like the galaxy was breathing life into her lungs, that the feeling of pure sunlight was a soft caressing substance to sooth away the pain. Was it a blessing pronounced upon her? Teyla hardly knew, but after a few moments of shallow breathing, it steadily evened.

The sensation of what felt like light entering her body, warmed her, but Teyla's energy was far spent.

She'd tried to get up and instantly regretted that decision. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her senses, and a hand reached to cover her eyes, trying to protect against the headrush that’d followed.

She slunk back to the ground in defeat, eyelashes fluttering and her head lolling, struggling with all of her might against the overwhelming urge to catch a few winks of sleep.

“Captain…” she whispered to the wind.

Damon, he would come back for her.

Once he and Rafiki got to safety. Once he’d shaken the barabel off his tail, he would be back for her. She believed that. She believed in him.

And that was why...maybe, just maybe she could rest until then.

Everything in her body ached for it, and it was only going to be for a little bit...

...Only a bit of…

*fade*

[member="Greyhide"]
 
What he was doing on an uncivilised jungle world was anyone's guess except his own; he had grown up in the jungles of Onderon, and a jungle thus was comfortable. A place to set down and stretch the legs, to feel the sun on his face as was so rare a thing in his adult life, though not as rare, by far, as the infrequency by which he saw his twin - tattoos a reminder of their last meeting, ink to replace the faded markings of their former tribal life. Consolation that he was always hers, and she his, in a way that an individual could never understand, no matter the time, the distance, the circumstances that set them on different paths.

What he was doing on an uncivilised jungle world should be no surprise: he had travelled the galaxy over at the behest of the Dreadlady, ended up in all manner of places to fulfill her requests, seeming a random, disconnected series of stops over a number of years. Thievery, if it could be called that; reclamation, as if it had all been hers to begin with. Her mark still itched from time to time.

The jungle was unfamiliar, but he could feel its pulse, hear it breathe and sigh. Feel the detritus-encrusted earth beneath his bare feet, boots in hand, feel the warmth of the system star on his skin. Feel exhilaration at a Force-ful jaunt betwixt the trees. Stopping at an unexpected sight. He knew what he was doing in the jungle...

...but what was she doing here? Curious. Was she sleeping? Unconscious? Eor crouched beside the woman in the leaves, his boots dangling between his knees, as he got himself a closer look at the sleeping beauty... wasn't there a legend, a tale of sleeping maidens and kissing them? A corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and his other hand brushed the hair from her face, using the same care with which he had handled artifacts.

"Well, hello..." he withdrew his hand, "...where did you come from, I wonder..."

His arms perched on his thighs, while he thought on the situation he now found himself in. He could very well pretend this never happened, or he could see this as an opportunity; bright green eyes took in the length of her still form, scent giving him much other information - no blood was spilled, else he would have known long before he saw her - and senses adding another layer to the picture.

"...and..." it seemed she was sensitive, "...whose apprentice are you?"

It was possible she was no-one's. It was possible she didn't know, though how anyone could go through life not knowing smacked of ignorance, considering the sheer number of force orders there were making an at-times delicious, chaotic mess of the galaxy. But she appeared to also be hurt in some manner, though how was a mystery. He was no healer. Leaning sideways, toward her head, he planted a hand and knee on the ground, then dropped the elbow, and brought his mouth close to her ear.

“Wake up,” the words were gentle, breezy, and spoken with more than tongue: he delved into her mind, and planted the words there, too. An echo, a compelling idea, a reach, perhaps, into her dreams.

Wake up!
 
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The people were being ushered away into ships, a concussive blast ripping through the ground below her, urgency swelling through her to move that much quicker. She promised to keep these people safe and they needed to get off of Coruscant. Eyes scanned the crowd and looked at...Baros? A second later the ground fell away and Teyla’s feet found purchase, running lightning speeds to grab Baros before gravity pulled him into the pitch black depths below. The face she saw slipping just out of reach of her flailing grasp was not of Baros though, it was Damon. Her heart sunk and vision blurred.

The chasm in the ground began to spread, Teyla scurried backward to escape, slamming into a familiar presence that, when their eyes met, was enough to make her blood run cold.

Her dream shifted, and looking down she saw globs of visceral dripping from large abrasions across her skin. Defeated and alone, she assumed the fetal pose, rocking back and forth with her arms covering her head while sobbing to herself. “No...no, no, no, no, no!!!”

“Wake up!”

Tear soaked chin lifted at the intrusion of her dream, causing her to stir. The black around her vanished in a haze of swirling grey smoke.

“Wake up!”

They beckoned.

Eyes fluttered open, finding her vision blurred and head throbbing. Eyes closed against the sunlight and Teyla lifted her head, groaning.

“Wh--nnnnnng!” trying to lift herself to her elbows, Teyla fell back to the ground and grabbed her arm, hissing through clenched teeth with tears beading in the corner of her eyes from the sudden pain that radiated from elbow to wrist.

Teyla waited a few moments until it subsided before she looked around at her surroundings, becoming more and more aware as the memory of what happened last came back to her.

“I-- ugh, how long...how long have I been out for?”

Where were Damon and Rafiki? Had they made it out alright? And if so, why hadn’t he come back yet? Teyla looked to this stranger beside her. She didn’t get an immediate sense of danger from him, but it would be worth asking later just what it was he was doing out in the middle of a jungle. Couldn’t trust anyone based off of gut feeling. But right now though, there were more immediate problems on her mind. Her arm was broken, and most likely had a concussion. Teyla needed the help of this person. “I’m Teyla,” she offered, then nodded to the ripped up pants she wore, “Think you could finish that off and tear as large of a piece off as possible? If you go along the seam, it’ll make it easier.” who knew that working for the fashion designer Baros, would actually come in handy now. “I need a tourniquet if I hope to move. You look like a handy person, so can you help me?”

[member="Greyhide"]
 

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