The Third Stage

[Tamara Wren]

Empress Teta​

Tamara moved through the lower section of the city. Lately, she had practically lived in her beskar'gam- at her father's urging. But she wasn't here for her father, and the last thing she wanted to do was draw that sort of attention here. Hood pulled up, dressed in dull but sturdy clothes, she blended into the crowd, occasionally sneaking a glance down at the slightly crumbled business card clutched in her left hand.

It was difficult, when the feeling had been gone for so long to quash it down, but she did her best.

Not to get her hopes up.

Just having that was novel.

The mandalorian had some notion of what she had been before. At least, what she had been through the eyes of her father, and through the lens of her art. But when she looked at the later, she couldn't see the girl who had painted those things with joy and laughter. She saw a passion in the works that was entirely alien to her now, and nothing [member="Ronan Vizsla"] could say, no amount of telling her stories, was stirring that again in her. Something had broken, she thought, when she'd been brought back. Something that couldn't be fixed. Over half a year since the Red Coronation, and she had thought that this was just what normal would be like now.

Alive, but not caring.

And then had come the anger.

It had opened up that, maybe, just maybe, it wasn't all gone. That it didn't have to be. If she could feel anger, surely the rest, the good parts, those could be in her reach.

Couldn't they?

The timing had been too coincidental to ignore. To have that shudder of connection to the Netherworld, the card left, right in the middle of her being utterly furious? Tamara had not studied the Force in depth, but that reeked of something bigger than herself.

It had to mean something.

So here she was, looking for the address. She paused in front of a narrow building, constructed, she suspected, originally in the alley way between two others. Windows, but nothing she could really see through, beyond a murky impression and an awful lot of potted plants obscuring the view on the inside. With a moment of hesitation, a shiver when she remembered the feeling of whatever *it* was that had brushed past her the other night, she turned the handle.

A soft chime, clear and metallic, sounded as she stepped in, closing the door hesitantly behind her. Dark eyes cast around, breathing in deeply the scent of wood smoke, dried herbs and damp forest soil with a touch of surprise. It reminded her of Wayland, a dozen memories that had been lost flooding back in along with the smells. For a moment, she closed her eyes, sinking into that, not used to them coming on so strongly or so many at once.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Jus' give 'er da time, ya? Girl will walk in when-"

The bell clicked and in came Tamara Wren.

He didn't actually know her name, but he had felt Shadowman detach himself during the party. He had come back just as swiftly and explained that sudden opportunity had come their way. Can't be mad about that, eh? He put way the woodcutting knife, the talisman too and stepped on around the counter. The sniff came soon after as he realized that she wasn't entirely... here.

"Memories... dem's da real weight of life, eh?" The words would filter through. A tap against the stream that was occupying her mind. "You's lost or ya right where ya need to be... little Remnant?"

Head tilted slightly.

Like he was listening to someone- for anyone else it might have looked strange and perhaps it did look strange. But Tamara? She'd be able to see something now. It clung to his shoulders, his arms covered by it.

Dark shadows coiling around him.

It seemed to whisper in his ear, before suddenly rearing its head. Staring right at Tamara.

 

[Tamara Wren]

A bonfire. She was four, maybe five. Summer..... high solstice? The child didn't know what that meant or why it mattered, just that she was content and sleepy. The festival had lasted all day and long into the night. She knew it was far past her bed time, but it seemed that, for tonight at least, her father had forgotten. If she stayed out of view and didn't bother him, maybe he wouldn't remember and she could stay up with everyone else. Sitting cross legged under one of the tables, just gazing into the fire. Head starting to nod, eyes getting heavy. A pair of large hands, reaching under and slowly pulling her out. Sleepy enough to just protest that she wasn't tired, not at all, not YAWN even a little, but without any weight behind it as she was scooped up into her father's arms-

An unfamiliar voice jarred her out of it.

She actually startled slightly- the memory had been a touch more visceral, more real. Why? Was it that she was slowly getting better? Or was it this place?

These people.

Two, she saw them immediately. Dark man, dark spirit. The second familiar. She hadn't seen it at the Ball, but had felt it. Now she got a better look. It didn't occur to her that she wasn't supposed to be able to see it at all.

"Um, not lost. Exactly. The smell.... in your shop. Reminded me of someplace."

Home.

She squinted at the shadow. It squinted right back.

"YOU gave me that card."

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Julian was about to say something witty.

Then.

Suddenly she looked right at Shadowman and Jul blinked. Once. Twice. He was completely at loss for words in that moment and wasn't sure how to feel about it. Instead... the shadow coalesced together, forming a shape, smaller and more... pleasant maybe. It trickled down his arm and flopped onto the ground. There it slowly, but surely approached Tamara.

It settled there in front of her feet.

Then said something.

Strangely enough Tamara wouldn't be able to hear him. He said something again. Getting frustrated with it, before looking over his shoulder to Jul. By this point he had regained his composure.

"Ohoh. Ya be seeing him, eh? Now that is a surprise. Cannae hear him? No? Hah." A step towards. "Who be you, eh? A hole in your chest, your spirit leaking and ya rollin' 'round like ya jus' fine. Ya got a name? Careful now. Names be power, yah yah yah."

 

[Tamara Wren]

She just watched, nonplussed, as the image shifted, slunk down and came over to her. Without really thinking about it, she crouched, balanced on the balls of her feet, looking at it. She could see it was talking, but couldn't hear anything coming out. She looked up, clearly questioning, at Julian about when he settled himself, so she missed his confusion due to her own.

"I-" she paused, then stood back up, because continuing to crouch as the man walked over was entirely uncomfortable.

"What do you mean, a hole in my chest? Leaking?" She looked down, then back up, confusion growing only greater.

She didn't really know what he was talking about, and she glanced back down at the shadow before back up at him. Names had power? Well she guessed so, if people were important enough.

"I'm Tamara," she answered, brow furrowing. "Your..... cat..... dropped your card on me a couple nights ago."

She paused, realizing just then how incredibly stupid the next part actually sounded. It turned into a bit of a mutter, dark eyes looking away, taking in the shop as she continued.

"I got the impression maybe you could help I dunno why."

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Cat?

Julian looked down again.

Noticed the shape again and then the sheer indignation of shadowman. That. Was basically perfect, yes, yes. The 'cat' tripsied back over to Julian, before it somehow melted to his feet.

And now there was a shadow there.

Before that Julian didn't have one. Not any, but she could be forgiven not noticing that immediately. "Tamara..." His lips and tongue shaped the word, playing with it a bit as it was pronounced to get a feel for it. It sounded more exotic when he said it somehow. "Pleasure be ours for this meet." A hand reached out, now free from shadows, to extend itself in a shake.

Head tilted as it was the left hand that got extended.

Eyes went to her right one. "Ah. Born with da mark, eh? Da toes of mah left feet dun' separate 'emselves, if da makes ya feel bettah. There be many of us, ya ya." He switched from one hand to the other, leaning in just a bit. As if Julian was sharing a secret. "Da mark is beaut, what do they know anyway, eh?"

"As for ya chest."

A glimpse down for a moment, casual and relaxed, before moving right back.

"Dem's be eyes da can see in both worlds." His free hand tapped between his eyes and then- booped her on the nose, if she let him. "Ya just gotta open ya's jus' da way ya did with mah....... cat."

Something grumbled in the background.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tamara honestly didn't know what to make of him. She could say with no small amount of confidence that this was an entirely unique interaction and she was mostly just going from one uneven footing to another every time he changed tracks. Which happened with vaguely alarming speed.

Her brow furrowed, tugging her right hand a bit farther in when he drew attention there.
"Um. Okay?"

That was probably the first time she'd gotten that sort of reaction. Ever. Most people were polite and just didn't say anything, even if she saw their eyes. That was fine, that was normal. When people did draw attention to it, it was usually not so.... complimentary. She shook with her left, hand firm, grip strong but not to prove anything, even with the strangeness and general unease of the interaction.

It was just benignly weird until his eyes cast down for a minute and then it got deeply awkward and uncomfortable. Her cheeks flushed a little, and her shoulders hunched a bit, looking away and then-

Tamara blinked, head jerking back slightly in surprise as he booped her nose. Too late to avoid it however.

This whole thing was really, REALLY weird.

"It's.... not actually a cat, right?" She shifted, pulling her cloak a little tighter around herself subconsciously. "It's.... from the Netherworld. Isn't it? It feels like it is. Is that what you mean?"

She frowned. "What's *your* name?"

The whole interaction had been weird enough that she'd missed him skipping over that at first.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

He laughed at her question.

From anyone else the laugh might have been disrespectful. Similar to looking down their nose, but for Julian... it was free and bright and musical. The tone deep, almost mesmerizing in its charitably. He didn't hold back. Not from anything, ever. This was him. It might also explain why he still held her hand and hadn't let go yet. The hold was not firm, it was just... there.

If she pulled, it would be easy to reclaim her limb.

But otherwise it would stay within the warmth of his palm. Rough, callouses from working with his plants, a soft layer of dirt still clinging to it just a bit. "Naw, cyattie, dem's be a spirit of the other side, eh eh? He da dark, da shadow dat follows, he-" A pause as he tilts his head, before chuckling again but softer now. "-dun like bein' talked 'bout. Likes his privacy..."

Eyes seeing her.

"Be like dem lady in front of me, no?"

The smile growing wider. Teeth white, a stark contrast. "Bright mind... yah yah yah." He leaned in again. His scent washed over her, deep spices, dark ground in the shadow. Freshness of a new downpour. "Secret for secret, I dig. Julian. But da daughter is one I like, so she may say Jul."

 

[Tamara Wren]

This wasn't really a hand shake. In hand shakes, people extended, shook, then both sides let go. She'd let go, but hadn't deliberately pulled away because she was expecting HIM to let go too. When he didn't she had no idea what to do. Pulling her hand back felt rude for some reason, like she was breaking some cultural convention she didn't know about- on the other hand-

Do not want.

She let it sit, awkwardly for a moment, honestly a little distracted by what he was saying and his accent.

Cyattie?

The Other Side. The Netherworld. Confirmed, so that was.... also honestly weird. Part of her regretted this whole excursion all ready, but too much of her was set on this path. She HAD to find out if there was anything that could be done. Or if this was just what she had, and that would be it.... forever.

"Oh. Um. Sorry," she addressed that to the shadow- she thought anyway that one was it. Apparently when it didn't want her to tell which shadow it was, that wasn't an issue.

The comment about her privacy made her grimace however.

Her name wasn't really a secret, so the next part got even weirder. It was when he leaned in that she finally extracted her hand, leaning back a bit in response and then taking a small, reflexive step back. She didn't take the daughter thing as anything beyond his curious speech mannerisms. She was a girl so, someone's daughter. She didn't think he meant anything beyond that.

"Okay Julian.... uh. Jul. You can call me Tam then," her eyes cast around again. The intensity of his stare was difficult to match and it was just easier to look somewhere else.

She'd lost track for a moment about why she was here in the strangeness, but rallied it then.

"So. You do know stuff. About the Netherworld then." She hadn't been wrong with that impression at the ball. "That's what I need help with. I can pay, that's not a problem." She hadn't figured out how she'd do it without her father knowing, but she'd worry about that later.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Breddah, dun be rude to 'er, eh? Lack o' know, bus she wanna know, don't she?"

A glance back towards her and the step backward.

Noted. Filed away somewhere. Step back, a turn on his heels as he laughed over his shoulder. "Tam, yah! I like it." It didn't sound like just something to say. There was clear delight in his tone as he flopped onto the edge of the counter. Snatching the woodcutter's knife and the small totem he had been working on. Before he went straight back to work the point of it pointed at her suddenly.

"Ey, ya be careful whatcha say, yah? Jul I am to ya, but me an' mah friend on the other side bargain hard." The tip switched on over and then tapped softly against his own temple.

Indicating for her to think.

"Sum o' da prices ain't paid in ya ring, ring credit. My friend likes ya more than ya pupa, but da father o' storms is a hard one to like, naw?" Mischievous glint there. "Does he know where ya are, Tam?"

The knife was dropped.

It didn't fall to the counter, instead part of the shadows snatched it out, coaxing out the talisman as well. It began to cut as he rested his elbows on his knees and watched her intently.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Too much of this was completely alien to Tam.

It would be difficult to call the young woman 'sheltered'. She had been raised her father's daughter. There was no shortage of blood on her hands, though she had never taken joy in it. She had traveled at her father's side in war. She had sat at his feet, conducting business of the clan before she could walk.

But in its way, it had been sheltered.

And she was unprepared for anything Julian was.

The way he hopped from sentence to sentence kept her off balance alone. As soon as she settled on one topic, he seemed off on another. This was no exception. It had taken a bit to screw up the ability to lay what she needed on the table. Her attention distracted by the knife, the figure, the shadow- like a street magician's misdirection, it took her a heartbeat to register what he was talking about. She processed each thing slowly, methodically- she wasn't slow but she was deliberate. But he gave her no chance to fully digest any of it before moving on to the next.

The bargaining part barely had a chance to skip off of her mind when he chucked the rock of her father into the lake.

Surprise at first, unhidden. She hadn't said her clan name after all, and even if she had, it was her mother's clan. So how did he know who she was and who her father was? She didn't doubt that he DID. The description was too on the nose. Besides, he knew other things he shouldn't....

Then her face immediately closed off, defensive. Brow furrowing slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't need his permission," she said, chin jutting out a touch more than she intended it to there.

In truth? She was still angry at him.

"You say you bargain hard? Okay. But bargain with ME then. He's got nothing to do with it."

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Oh.

But she was a young one, wasn't she? Anger was fine. Alright. Nothing wrong with anger, but that combined with a hunger to prove? Oh, oh, oh. What would someone worse have done to this soul? Ripped it apart further, subjugated. Slave. It was a good thing Julian's tastes ran in a different sort. Even better that Shadowman was already finding his own fill with the likes of [member="Umai"] and the sort.

Or this might have gone into an entirely different direction.

"Ya bargain for yaself, lady la? Good, spirited, dere's da fire da burns bright." He flopped back onto the floor. The shadow behind him kept cutting. Parts of the wood fluttering down on the table.

It was already taking shape.

A human shape.

He approached once more. Began circling her. "There is anger inside of ya. Fury. Indignation. Have it! Keep it. But." A shrug, as he pulled out something from his pocket. Leafs, rolling it into thin paper. "Drop it at da door, before the girl enters."

Around that time he entered her blind spot. The shadow in front of her grew lighter, but already the outline of Julian was popping out from her left.

Except.

"Ya tats, I dig, Tam. Which Master crafted them, eh?" It whispered just an inch away from the right of her ear. His breath washing against her skin now.

 

[Tamara Wren]

She stood firm when he started to circle her. Following him with her eyes, a turn of a head, but not budging. In part it was still that feeling of having something to prove. That she didn't just exist as an extension of her father. Part of it was sheer stubbornness. She didn't think she was in danger here. It was weird and uncomfortable, absolutely. But not danger. Her teeth set slightly when he went behind her.

"What do you mean 'at the door', I'm already here-"

He talked in circles, never straight forward. She'd been raised to only the straightest of talk, always direct, always to the point. Say what you mean or don't say it at all.

Tam went to turn her head to catch him on her right as he came around- but his voice sounded- too close- and she flinched.

Didn't step away though.

Shoulders up slightly, arms crossing a little tighter as she tilted her head ever so slightly away. Only then turning to face him at an angle. Keeping the shadow in sight. That.... that she didn't want to lose sight of.

"Not Master work," she said, a little sharper than she meant to, but she was on edge and didn't fully realize it. "I did it."

She hadn't been officially apprenticed, so she couldn't claim the rank. But there was pride in her voice. She knew she was good. From design to flesh. She was good.... or had been. That flickering through her mind showed on her face. That ghost, the change in her art. Still good. But different now.

Tamara reached down. Right hand, wrapped but even then the general shape clear out of the shadows of her cloak held out, left pushing up the sleeve of her that arm. More tattoos there, dipping into the wrappings and down a wrist he couldn't see, then up. A clear progression of skill. Pushing back her hood, she tilted her head and swept back her hair. The same traveled down her neck and under her shirt.

Pride, clear as day. But earned.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"I'm already here-"

"An' da's ya mistake, lady la." Jul responded immediately after. For once it sounded like a straight answer, which was a rarity for Julian and maybe, that is why she should pay perfect attention to it.

"Make ya mind ya own, before da journey. Not between or after, before."

Rather than complete the circling... he slipped past her. Elbows brushing as he rounded on his heels to watch with her. Before Julian would have simply touched her arm and enjoyed the proximity. But she had already relayed her discomfort. Filed away. The moment before had not been for pleasure. Fun. A lesson, but one Jul feared was dripped on deaf ears.

"Tam be okay with me exploring da craft?"

His hand indicating her tattoos as she showed the skin of her arm. Hesitation. Then- a nod, but a cautious one. Better. He leaned in again, but perhaps this time it would be... less awkward.

The attention was not on her as a person, after all.

His proximity there, but his thoughts elsewhere as long, graceful fingers touched the tattoos. Explored the lines. A finger and nail tracing the distance between inexperience and embrace of mastery. "Naw, Tam, bargainer, I know mastery. Ya was dis. The craft is yours." His finger traced. Then Tamara shifted towards showing the ones on her neck.

Again his finger indicated, nodding towards them.

Again hesitation. Permission.

Drawing his nails against her skin, not enough to bite, but enough to pronounce. "These lines be drawn by power, mhm mhm yah." His breath against her ear again. "Ya death... violent, touched even ya life years before."

 

[Tamara Wren]

She frowned at that. Her mind WAS her own. She had the anger under control. She hadn't exploded at her father, had she? Her anger wasn't a separate thing from her, it was part of her.

If she had dug deeper, she would have seen more of the wisdom. But after months of feeling nothing, there was too much at stake to cage any emotion she was feeling now.

Oh, none of it was less awkward.

It was less upsetting perhaps (at first) because he asked. She could tolerate that as opposed to the casual invasion of her space. If he had just reaching out to touch, she would have pulled back, stepped away. Because he asked, and because it was to see her craft, she agreed. It wasn't about her. It was about canvas. Well, it WAS her but, not the same. He wasn't looking at her arm, her neck. He was looking at the ink.

So why the hell did she shiver when his nail traced up?

A slight flush and a mutter that was probably a 'thanks' when he complimented.

There was tension through every line of her body while he inspected, on the verge of drawing away at any moment and yet.

She didn't.

To call Tam distracted in that moment was an understatement. Toss in confused, vaguely unsettled, low grade alarm, ??? and mix it all together. She blinked, hearing his words but taking a second to process them. She shifted away from his mouth at her ear slightly, but didn't step back. She wanted to.... but also didn't.

When she did fully register she snorted, which helped. Helped what? She had no idea.

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed. "That one's just a feather pattern I saw on a bird once. All of them, something I saw in nature. Nothing powerful or violent about it."

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

It fascinated Julian in a way that few people ever did.

Which was understandable.

Spend years upon years in the Netherworld and the regular Galaxy had a way of... not being all that interesting in comparison. Maybe that was partially why Julian was the way he was. Trying to wring every little portion of amusement out that he could. Live life. Find enjoyment in it and gorge yourself on it. But these lines... he could see it as plainly as day.

His nail drew another line, following it along the ink. "Ohh, lady la, I dun' realize ya was da expert 'ere, eh?" Smirking as he traced the lines. "Ya never saw a birb like da again, ditya now?"

"Well, no."

"Violent death, yah yah yah. Cut short. It vibrated through the essence of you. Then... someone yanked ya straight out. More vibrations. More more. Sleeping dreams waking. Past, future, now, they connect. They all there and influence one anotha."

Jul stroked her wrist one last time, ending at her right hand. There he patted her softly. He didn't shy away from it.

"Tam the girl dun' 'ave ta believe, no. Tam the bargainer better be listening to the shadow and the man." Unless Tamara stepped back, he'd indicate towards her face, searching for permission once more. Before tracing the lines of her tattoo branded into her face. "Dis one. Mm. Sign of truth, hidden in da ink, but I see it." He traced down, letting his knuckle brush her cheek.

Then tipped up her jaw so their eyes met in truth.

"Da shadow is interested, beware, cyattie."

Only with that did Julian step away and back towards the table. Where the shadow deposited the totem into his hand. It was a human, a girl, with cloaks wrapped around her head and frame.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tam felt rooted to the spot. Not just the touch but the recitation. Sure, in the Vizsla clan, her story wasn't exactly a secret. Ronan couldn't have kept it that even if he'd wanted to. But it wasn't common knowledge- heck she wasn't well known herself in anyway, so why would it be? A lot of people had died at the Red Coronation. Tam had been one of dozens.

"Violent death, yah yah yah. Cut short. It vibrated through the essence of you."

"Bled out on the floor," she whispered, barely audible. She didn't remember all of it. Just the parts that Ronan had known. "Knife, right here," absently indicating the right side of her abdomen through the cloak. She didn't know who had wielded the blade. She didn't remember that it had been her own knife, plunged deep when an explosion had thrown her father into her. Just that she had died slowly, while he had fought. She'd stayed quiet, so he wouldn't be distracted. She had come back to face judgement, up to and including accepting her death. She had just never expected it to come as it had.

"Then... someone yanked ya straight out."

"Carnifex."

That was all that needed to be said there. She wasn't answering questions, not per se. It wasn't a deliberate action, the words. The answers just sort of bubbled up, drawn out by the moment, by his nails tracing each mark on her shin.

"More vibrations. More more. Sleeping dreams waking. Past, future, now, they connect. They all there and influence one anotha."

Was he right? Had she traced out the pathway of her future on her skin, years before? It seemed utterly impossible and yet.... when he explained it... almost.... almost believable.

Her heart pounded in her chest, almost lightheaded. The implications that she had- or could have- known if she'd only known how to read the signs....

(only that surely, nothing else, no, nothing else, that was enough to explain the anxiety yes)

Her mouth opened then closed again as he traced the lines across her face, soundless this time. Tipped up her face-

And stepped away.

She drew in a long, shaky breath, not realizing she'd been holding it. Eyes closed, a shake of her head. Like there had been cobwebs filling it and now that she had some breathing room again, they were easier to banish. A little rough, she tugged the sleeve of her shirt down, eyes turning warily to the figure in his hands and the shadow.

"What do you mean- you mean your friend here? Or something else? Is that.... me?"

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Both." Julian responded as unhelpful as ever, before turning around the figure in his hands. He hadn't known what he had been cutting until she had walked into his shop. Then it had become clear once Julian saw what the shadow had seen the other day. One more turn and then he gestured with. The universal sign of 'I am throwing this to you, catch if you don't want to catch it with your face'. Jul listened calmly to the shadow's rebuke.

Nodded in agreement.

"Mah friend be thinking I offer too much truth for little return." A smile. "Da beauty of a girl coaxed it out, mhm, that happens."

She'd feel power in the figurine. It hummed in recognition.

Warm to the touch.

"Ya came 'ere with a request, bargainer, ears open. Mind free. Talk terms, eh?"

 

[Tamara Wren]

She caught the little figurine with both hands. Cupped, she was surprise at how warm it was. It pulsed in the Force. Even untrained she could feel it. Was it because it was just that intent? Or because it was meant to be her? She didn't know. Turning it over in her hands, she looked up at him, frowning.

When she'd come, she had hoped he'd be able to help her, but not hopefully. Now it was different. She was fairly certain he could, no need to rely on hope. The question was if it was a smart call.

Her eyes cast over to his shadow, then back to him, and down again, figure settling against the palm of her left hand where she turned it over and over again, absently with her fingers. Mulling over the words. She was quicker to talk than her father yes, but the habit was ingrained. Think before you speak. No wasted words. Clarity.

He'd been making that hard with the verbal circles. No chance to get her feet under her before moving onto the next thing.

"I died." She said bluntly, looking back up at him from the figure. "Brought back. But something is wrong. I came back wrong. I don't....." she stopped, swallowing hard. "I don't feel. I don't care. But I care enough that it is uncomfortable that I don't." She wasn't sure if she was making sense, but a small gesture of his hand to continue confirmed that she was.

"I can't....." Again, trailing off, breathing in deeply before- "I can't paint anymore. Well, I CAN, but it's not the same. I want.... I can see what I used to do, the joy it came out of. But I don't remember doing it, or what it felt like. Now when I paint its like a compulsion. Once I start, I can't stop until it's done and.... I don't....."

She chewed on her lower lip, looking down at the figure again.

"I'm not picking what I'm painting. It's like something else is. It's dark and ugly. I want..... I want to be like I was."

She was acutely away that in some ways, her father liked her better this way. She also knew that it troubled him at the same time. How hard he was trying to help her remember. Even angry at him, she didn't forget those things.

"I don't know if that's possible." Quiet.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Sometimes the Galaxy was a strange place.

Stranger with Julian in it.

But sometimes one plus one truly was two. He knew what her problem was and that knowledge gave him a hint of what she was telling him about the paintings. Jul hadn't seen them himself, but there were simply things that made sense. If you knew the context. "Ya say dem paintings dun come out right, ya?" If she nodded Jul thought a bit more about it.

Made a decision.

Yes, that would be a good bargain. "Show me, cyattie. Mah eyes see more than ya's, so show me." Julian gestured for her to follow him. Around the counter and out back to the private area.

This was more furnished.

More... lived-in.

It was clear that this shop wasn't just a shop. It was also where Julian slept, lived, ate. Everything. In the corner there was a painting. Half drawn. It showed... the Netherworld or half of it. Something that might be intimately familiar to Tam. "Naw, we dun share da same affliction." Answering the question that might be drawing up in her mind already. "Memories- captured in paint. Vivid."

A sad nod there.

"Yah, yah... yah." It might have been the first time that his tone wasn't energetic and happy.