Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Verd'goten

She was pissed.

No, she was angry.

No … she was in a murderous rage.

Like the eye of a hurricane or the sudden quiet before a tornado, [member="Ginnie Dib"] had grown still and silent. A massive warning klaxon sounded in his head, of impending disaster. Then she spoke and her words rolled over him. She accepted that she could not be there, but he was. He and his Confederacy.

Muad was quiet for once, Derek noted.

Ginnie's rage grew scorching the earth. The very air grew dry as the dunes of Tatooine, as dangerous as the Sundari Desert. The ground cracked as her emotions grew, the focus the man newly crowned the responsible party. Derek Dib.

Silence reigned.

His heart broke. His Confederacy. It was true he had joined in its infancy. He had helped the fledgeling nation to grow, to expand its borders and cloud of influence. He had believed in the good they could do. One of the first systems the Confederates had helped was a system called Siskeen. And when the time came for a visit to be chosen, he was the single nominee due to his heroics and political knowledge.

And so he had become responsible for an entire system, three planets of citizens looking for him for leadership, for guidance, for a vision. And under his lead the system grew, the planets united under a single coalition, and the new United Siskeen Coalition slowly became independent. Even as the system began to take long strides to be a self governing nation that did not rely on any outside assistance to evolve the viceroyalty became more and more corrupt as a puppet show for the true power of the Confederacy.

Years went by and the system elected him once more going so far to not only have him be their representative for them in front of the viceroyalty, but to be their ruler as King, a role Derek had never wanted. Years of watching the viceroyalty become nothing but a facade of power disillusioned him to the Confederacy and the ideals of its leaders, yet Siskeen had become home. Had become family. Often every session of the viceroyalty had him at odds with the Vicelord and the Exarchs, yet for his people and the responsibility they had thrust upon him, he continued.

And then Eshan.

He had argued against the military operation making new enemies within the ranks. Despite his pleas the Confederacy had gone to Eshan. Had engaged in battle with the mandalorians. Commanding a United Siskeen Coalition fleet he ordered his ships to not engage, instead they helped shepherd refugees fleeing through a safe corridor to freedom. On the planet he had his people helping to evac the echani, and when one of the Confederate allies drove a star destroyer into the capital he had personally gone with his guard to kill the ally of the CIS for the crimes committed.

It was only through blind luck he was drawn into battle with [member="Kaine Australis"], an encounter that had nearly killed the viceroy.

And it was there he felt Rhaegar die.

His fists clenched and unclenched at the memory of being so close, and yet not being able to do a fething thing. When he had somewhat recovered from his injuries it was he who found the body of Rhaegar, can it was with his hands that he cleaned and prepared the body of his loved one alone amidst the wreckage of war. It was his tears that watered the ground with sorrow.

Muad finally had arrived to assist, equally distraught, and in their grief they brought Rhaegar’s body home to a widowed mother of infant twins.

After the internment it was Derek that made the trip to Dorin, the homeworld of the Baran Do, to bring news of their fallen, wayward brother. He alone took the steps down to the Caverns of the Hidden to speak with the Master of the Order. It was Derek Dib, a sage, who told the old woman of the death of Rhaegar. He held the woman as she mourned the death of her last living son. And it was Derek who held his sobbing grandmother as her heart gave out and she slipped away.

The new Master of the Order was offered to Derek as his family had led the order for centuries. Turning it down he was confronted with another choice. It was his duty to remain, to stay in the temple and train the next line of sages. Stay forever more upon Dorin or choose his brother, choose Ginnie and the innocent infants, to choose Siskeen. And with his decision to return and watch over and protect his family he was stripped of his ranks and banished from the order, never to be allowed to return to the planet of his birth and home.

So the eternal prodigal son left to be the protector of his responsibilities, sacrificing all he may want or wish for himself, for others. Siskeen, Muad, Amma, Rhae, and Ginnie. His family. And yet even as family he was always the one outside looking in. It was his role as a weight on the scales of balance.

He blinked, a mere moment passing as Ginnie grew in rage. His lips twitched as the desire to spill truths of his sacrifices to both Muad and Ginnie. But that wasn't what they needed, what she needed. And he could bear the burden alone, for it was what he had always done. Sacrificing of himself for those he loved. And Rhae and Amma needed their mother healthy, and so he would be the villain of the story.

So, he would become what was needed, the villain.

He frowned at Ginnie before jabbing a finger in her direction.

“I was there. He was there. We were on opposite sides of a war. If Alkor hadn't of killed him and our paths had crossed, I would have. Isn't that the way of your people? And the Confederacy was there, yeah, and that meant so was I. And if we had the chance to repeat history, I would have done the same thing.”
 
Nothing.

Not even her own Grandfather wanted to wish Adara well. Struck by the lack of her family around her while the other children had theirs, Adara looked back at the bodyguard-servant who gave the child her only comfort.

Nothing but a casual ‘oya’, a thrown line by a man who cared little for her the moment his own children were born. That was the way of it.

The way of the Mandalorian.

Adara’s heart sunk as she entered the forest, nibbling on her lip with her helm wings swept back to still reveal her face. A face [member="Fred Gred"] trotted up to on what seemed a whim. Walking into the tree line, Adara huffed and shrugged.

“Adara. Arch-Duchess of the planet Vena, Heir of House Fitz-Kierke. Daughter of Mand’alor the Infernal. But… it’s just Adara today. No titles, or famous mothers. She didn’t even come.” The six foot tall Epicanthix teen dusted off her blue and white beskar’gam, with its’ feather-like patterns and filigree’d buy’ce,

“You’re a Gred? My nanny married your Alor. Guess I don’t have her anymore either.” Trying to smirk, Adara managed a half shrug and started walking through the forest to the sound of large reptilian chuffing.

“Have you ever ridden or tamed a dragon, Fredgred?” Adara looked up to the tree line, triggering her buy’ce to swoop over her face. “‘Cause that sounds like one…”

For once in her life, the first time Adara could remember, she was alone. Suddenly the familiar lines of Vanquo’s foliage felt more menacing, alone without her bodyguards, nannies, or Handmaidens.

Not even a sibling. She chewed on her lip, trotting through the undergrowth on her way toward the exit point.

“You… you don’t want to be near me. But if you wanted to… if you… really wanted… maybe we could walk together for a while. But if I tell you to hit the ground, promise you'll do it?”

[member="Adenn Kyramud"] [member="Fred Gred"] [member="Tabitha Solus"] [member="Rhaegar Dib II"] [member="Taru Cadera"]
 
Spatters of condensation in the air combusted in pocked pings, the hydrogen and oxygen separating for Ginnie to destroy. Ignite on instinct. Hydrogen plus Oxygen plus NaCl, ripped apart by the apoplectic rage sheering off the ever abandoned Ginnie Dib.

“Rhaegar should be here. My daughter tries to emulate you. She refuses to Kad danged smile, purposefully avoids other kids or any sort of fun activity in case she cracks. Ba’vodu Derek wouldn’t crack. I am stomach-sick of seeing my daughter scared so stiff of ending up like me that she won’t smile.”

The air crackled and spat. The clothes on Ginnie’s body smoked and billowed in yellow-white flame until nothing existed but the yellow-gold core of Ginnie’s plasmic body. Melted metal sloughed off her to the ash on the ground in rivulets.

“No. It is not our way to kill Aliit. You see another Mandalorian in battle, you turn your gun away. Let them pass. Alkor is no Mandalorian. He didn’t deserve the forgiveness Yasha gave. But you don’t know what a Mandalorian is beside a mercenary in armour…” Ginnie’s words burst not from her lips but her mind, the decades of loneliness hanging off each syllable with the fear of a child thrown out in the cold.

The same fears which had her sleeping under benches in space ports, hugging her knapsack to her empty gut. She’d sleep in stints, cramming her body into the tightest places out of reach.

Then she found Isley, and her brother promised to never let her go. He coaxed her out from under the bed he gave her time and again, taught her how to sleep without needing her armour.

For a while. A few months before she was once more cast out by clone-meat children and a Mandalorian adulthood. Ordo found her, gave her a home, a family.

Taught her how to use Mandalorian sign language, and the ways of cleaning and reloading weaponry. How to hunt prey. Ginnie became the youngest Rally Master in Mandalorian history, and still the fire burned.

The progenitor fire.

The same wafting blaze which stole her hearing until Rhaegar brought her back. A fire lit by accident in a munitions bunker, where the last woman to truly love Ginnie died throwing her eight year old daughter into an empty munitions locker.

This woman, so tainted by the people who ought to have loved her lived inside the last scream she ever heard, the screams of her mother dying that Ginnie could have a slim chance. Just one. One single breath more.

Ginnie choked on her own breath, the oxygen around her burning off until she shuddered for air. For a fuel which would never be as duplicitous as families and oxygen.

“That’s what family is. That’s what you do, isn’t it? You leave, or you die, or you cast us out. You stay when convenient.

Because family only goes as far as profit.”

A new flow radiated out from the pyromantic Mandalorian. Physical pain. Too hot, burning too brightly, Ginnie crashed to her knees, arms clutching at her chest. Her hair began to fall as ash, the memory of a sani-steam shower on a new muddy body the only one which remained.

“Yes, I shall need a different shirt cyar’ika.”

Family.

It was a mask like Nemesis was for Rhaegar. A cane left behind on a speeder bike. A man in a suit on the wrong world.

Family.

No such thing existed, if even Derek could betray Clan Dib.

Teeth grit, a deaf-toned groan of anguish bit the air in a wave. With it, the fluctuations of grief and anger that concussed the space where Derek had been, and potentially sending him rocketing back into the side of Ginnie’s ship.

[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Derek Dib"]
 
Tabitha just knew all these teens had death wishes when they came to Vanquo. Particularly the ones idiotic enough to not wear armor! For Manda's sake, Vanquo was probably one of the most murderous planets in the galaxy, from the smallest of rodents to the giant Scriosar. Already Tabitha could hear screams.

And buzzing.

That. Manda. Damned. Buzzing.

She kept a watchful eye from the trees, until she heard sobbing and screams mixed with a buzzing draw closer. From the sound of it, the kid had just hit 13. Clicking her tongue, Tabitha readied her knife, and narrowed her eyes at the wasp that was dragging the poor paralyzed child along. Movements hidden under the wasp's buzzing, Tabitha launched herself off the tree branch at the wasp, and stabbed it straight in the head.

That stopped the buzzing, at least.

Pulling out one of the many, many wasp antidote injections Tabitha brought with her, and a flare, she worked quickly to find the largest vein she could see and injected the antidote into the younger teen. Once the antidote was administered, Tabitha stood, and shot her flare straight into the air, leaving a trail of dark red smoke and exploding silently into the air. She hadn't heard any Scriosar yet, thankfully, but they weren't blind.

"A-are you s-stupid?!"

"I was going to ask you the same question, coming to Vanquo with no armor like you're dumber than a Confederate droid! Now hush, and keep your ears peeled. Miss Azure knows what that flare means, and if we're lucky she'll strong arm her way past the Mortui Alor to come get you. Or maybe one of the other kids can control animals, and get one of the gentle-ish species to take you back."

"W-what does the flare mean?"

"A wasp just tried to use somebody for nest food."

[member="Adara Raxis"] [member="Fred Gred"] [member="Taru Cadera"] [member="Adenn Kyramud"] [member="Mig Gred"] [member="Ginnie Dib"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Derek Dib"]
 
Fred tilted his head at [member="Adara Raxis"] when she said who she was. He hadn't realized that he was talking to a Mand'alor's daughter, not like he cared too much. Didn't make anyone better or worse, but he did perk up when he heard her say that her mother didn't come. He shrugged, looking over.

"Nice to meet you, just Adare, and if it makes you feel any better, my folks didn't come either." He was hoping he wasn't making things worse or anything. At least she seemed... not angry. It was then that she noted that her nanny married Mig. It took him a scond to realize she was talking about Tamar. He smiled a bit, nodding. "You mean Tamar? She's pretty nice. Her and Mig are definitely lovey dovey." Then a call entered his ears.

Fred looked around, pulling out his Trayc'kad as he looked around. His new friend then asked if he'd ever tamed and ridden a dragon before. He shook his head, sighing. "No. But I rode an out of control Basilisk once." It was then that Adara acted uneasy about being around Fred. He sighed, but smiled a little when she said they could still walk together so long as he'd hit the dirt if she said to.

"Sure. I can do that."

[member="Adenn Kyramud"]
 
Muad shook his head ruefully at Derek while standing well to the side and watching his brother earn the ire of [member="Ginnie Dib"] for once. Oh his words were complete osik, but Muad knew the purpose behind the suicidal words offered to an angry, powerful woman. He was watching to make sure it didn't go too far, but Derek could take a beating. He knew that from first hand experience. Grinning again he filled his arms and viewed the confrontation while wishing he had a bowl of popcorn. This was going to be good.

But even as things began to heat up, both literally and figuratively, he felt a chill run up his spine in the Force. Turning away from the drama he scanned the area but didn't see what was raising his hackles. Yet something felt different, wrong, like a bad case of deja vu or that unrest feeling that made people retort that someone had stepped over their grave. Blinking he felt the mark of the patron burn for a moment and the sith runes marking his left forearm sear his flesh. His eyes swirled black, an oily darkness that pierced the planes to see the hidden dimension that ran parallel with the physical one.

Three dark wraiths slithered around the tree line, their skeletal forms escaping the tattered garments wrapped around their forms. Tracking prey that would never know they were being hunted. Almost he ran for the figures to engage them, but he knew that this was not a battle he could fight. Not here, and not like this. His hands clenched and lips moved without words.

Then the shadows seemed to fold upon him, cloaking him in darkness until he was gone like a wisp of smoke upon the breeze.

Meanwhile Derek felt the heat.

The absolute rage, betrayal, hurt, and kiss that existed within Ginnie, that had been Ginnie, was being focused at Derek, at the words he released. The callous remark given almost flippantly. Out of character for one who valued his control so well. And words he had manipulated for a purpose.

The temptation to raise his arms, to use the Force, or otherwise shield himself flickered in his mind. But no, she needed this outlet of acceptance. And he needed to be punished for failing that day. The guilt he lived with knowing he was not only in the same sector of space but in the same fething city ate at him every single day. He should have done more. He should have saved Rhaegar. He should have. But he didn't, and it haunted the man of balance.

So as the wave washed over him he simply lowered his arms and opened his hands with a sad smile of approval and understanding etched upon his face.

The heat was felt first. The jacket and shirt not catching flame but being turned to ash. His pants shredded, large patches of ash drifting from several portions of his trousers. The skin of his bare torso and face steamed as the heat dehydrated and flaked, Burns appearing across his body. The synthetic flesh rolled from his left arm and shoulder revealing the cybernetics beneath that he had received on Eshan. Just as the heat grew unbearable, even for a pyromancer, the concussive blast hit launching him backwards into the hull of the ship with a bone crunching impact.

Sliding down and landing on his butt he closed his eyes, a scorched face blinking against the pain of what felt like a few broken ribs. His wounds began to weep the clear tears of burns as he struggled to rise to his feet and turned slowly to face Ginnie.

“Finally. You see that the blame you carry is not your own. It's survivors guilt. Others are responsible. Blame Alkor. Blame Metus. Blame Rhaegar. Hell, blame me. But hear this Gin'ika, if there is a single shred of guilt that truly lies you your head, it also says your the heads of Amma and Rhae, for they were the reason you were not there. And those beautiful, wonderful children are blameless. And so are you.”


Meanwhile ….

The three wraiths had caught the scent. The one who thought he could circumvent the will of Chaos could not be found. And so his blood and soul would pay the price of his trespass, and have their souls dragged to hell unimaginable. Two raised their heads and howled, diving into the forest after the son and daughter. The third looked at the woman with a piece of the soul they were sent for. As it dove forward, talons extended, ready to test the soul from her body to drag to the depths of the Nether a being on the same dimension crashed into it, the massive doashim closing it's sharp fangs upon the wraith and ripping it to shreds. On this plane the wraith was physical. But so was the shaman.

Glowing blue eyes blazed from the skull of the doashim as it looked to where the other two wraiths had gone. With a mighty leap he gave chase.
 
The scream echoing out of Ginnie’s throat drowned a shift in the hymn eternal, which ever hummed in the back of her spine. A line to the paradise she was removed from, the chorus of Manda oft sang only of its’ own completion all in the one, all together in the endless communal consciousness.

It was a form of torture, one without ceasing. Paradise ripped away to once more walk and breathe and burn. Rhaegar’s joining of soul, that fragment which lingered within her was the shield against Manda’s call. A call Ginnie more and more wished to answer.

“I want to go home.”

This crude matter was meaningless and little. An echo of the greater becoming after Death’s sting fell for a Mandalorian’s prize.

The sliver inside, that piece of her husband held her as he did, when Manda’yaim gave Ginnie breath back into her lungs. His finger traced along the side of her neck, down a svelte arm as if to hush her. Calm the desire to die.

And there [member="Derek Dib"] was, goading on the heartbroken widow, who soldiered on for the sake of the children that led to her losing her husband. His words drowned out the dangers behind her, the shift in the hymn which warned of Wraiths hungering for her soul. She felt a rush of danger. Vaulting into the air, Ginnie floated on a current of hot air. Hovered over Derek as he spoke a truth she refused to accept.

The truth which had her sober enough to come to her children’s Verd’goten.

“I would have chosen them.” The string of vibration from Rhaegar gave its’ acceptance of the thought which took thirteen years to cement in her flaked out, alcoholic mind.

If the beskad were in her hand, and she had to choose between the twins or Rhaegar breathing another day, Ginnie would save the kids.

A gasping shudder overtook her as another wave of concussive heat struck for the man and the ship. The first layer of hull plating melted. How could she?

How could she betray the man who resurrected and loved her? How could she betray the piece of her own soul to rectify him ending? Ginnie’s hand raised, a plasmic conflagration growing. Charging to consume the ship and the brother and the body of Ginnie Dib.

“I should have been by his side! My place was by his side!” What could she have done differently? Had the twins early? Slice them from her belly? Ginnie thought to [member="Rhaegar Dib II"] always trying another way to prove his worth. A perpetual nuisance of a boy who got into everything and dug his wounded hands into the pile to present up to his mother in the hope she’d be proud.

And she was.

Little Amma, so familiar with pain so young because Ginnie couldn’t be the mother Rhaegar needed his wife to be. And that was the crux, Ginnie didn’t deserve to be the parent left behind.

Rhaegar would have been a far better father to the twins than Ginnie was a mother. She let her grief and the all consuming call of the Manda become a battle to struggle through alone, when Derek and Muad were there to help her. She didn’t deserve the happiness the children gave her, when their father was missing from it.

For once, it was Ginnie who pushed family away.

The conflagration in her hand dissipated. Ginnie’s feet once more touched the ground, as she swept a hand up from the dirt to create a gossamer-like rust-brown dress to cover her nakedness.

“Okay.” Ginnie spoke softly, padding over to where Derek struggled to rise. Her hand hovered over his face, delivering a burst of healing to reknit the skin and calm the fire’s blistering. “I see it. I see I’m not the one to blame for this.”

The healing hand drifted along his shoulder, healing slicking off to nothing. Ginnie dug her thumb into one of the worst burns on his chest, digging in with a calm, ferocious stare.

“I will blame the right people. And I will take vengeance on every… single…. one. I will burn down every world, until I find a way to bring my husband back… you didn’t help me then. You let him die. Help me now, or Amma gets to be the second Dib woman to know what uncontainable grief is, Ba’vodu DeDe.” Eyes burning with the steady plasma of twin stars, Ginnie shook as she yanked her finger out of his burn, and offered him her hand.

“I’ve seen the Veil. I’ve done alchemical processes that powered murderous machines, and I’ve walked with spirits more than half my life. There’s my forge on Ziost, where the separation between the living and Chaos is so thin I almost got dragged under when I was twelve. And… Yasha’s seen enough of the Nether, I can call in a favour or seven. Kids’re old enough now… they can handle a few days without their Mama.

And when this is over, Derek? You, Muad, Amma, Rhae-Rhae and Rhaegar, feth, the whole family. We’ll be whole… or I’ll keep digging until we are.”
 

Rhaegar Dib II

Heir of the Dragons
He leaped over the exposed roots of some tree and continued running through the jungle. He didn't know what kind but he figured his sister would. She was a nerd like that sometimes. Nose buried in a book. He wondered how they were related, let alone twins. He was making good time even though he had started late and he wondered when he would start passing the others. Because he was going to pass them. Jumping over another group of roots he continued speeding along.

The sensation of deafness was odd. You couldn't hear a karking, was it safe to think that word without soap …, thing but there wasn't silence. Somehow he heard his own heartbeat, a whooshing sound like the rolling waves. Maybe he was just aware of the tempo of his pulse. Shrugging without a care he smirked cockily. Verd'gotten? Just a short jog. Where was the danger? The excitement? The stuff of legends? Maybe old [member="Adenn Kyramud"] had forgotten these things as ancient age made his mind feeble and his bones weak. Old people.

He paused suddenly. Something felt differently. Slowly turning he tried to place what it was. The sounds of a swarm of wasps fell on deaf ears. Yet the amount of wasps created a vibration in the air that pricked his skin and caused the fine hairs at the nape of his neck to stand on end. Continuing to turn he paused as a shadow approached. Hands tightened into fists as he watched an undulating shadow near, his skin warning him before his eyes registered the individual bodies of the bugs. One of ba'vodu Muad's favorite words escaped his lips unheard.

“Fierfek.”

Then he ran.

Gone was the gentle lope through a jungle. Gone was the cocksure stride. Gone was the sense of ease that the trek would be a piece of Uj'alayi, uj cake. Now it was time to flee the danger at hand. And so he did.

After nearly ten minutes he allowed and looked behind, seeing no trace of the wasps. Leaning forward with hands on his knees he breathed in haggardly and deeply knowing ba'vodu Muad would shake his head at him losing his composure and running like a startled ewok. Laughing silently he shook his head and straightened while looking at good surroundings. A tuber grew from the ground, an ettet root, known for slaking dry mouth. Plucking it he bit in and began chewing vigorously until his eyes widened.

Three things jumped to his mind in that moment. The first was that there were broken limbs laying around with a shredded corpse of a kid he remembered seeing gathered at the clearing. The second was he couldn't taste the tuber and he still couldn't hear. The third was there was a green dragon perched high in a tree, serpentine eyes staring down.

It was time to run again.
 
She finally put words to the thought she had refused to admit for years and years. That she would have chosen the children. Rising to his feet once more he stared up at the form of [member="Ginnie Dib"] riding on a cushion of telekinesis. Eyes traveled up from the bottom of her petite feet, along her shapely legs. An extra flush of crimson flushed his burned face as his eyes traveled higher. Hips and a narrow waist that more often than naught had a tool belt adorning them, across her chest to her face, the kiffar markings making her features even more striking.

Floating above him as a beautiful goddess filled with righteous wrath, her face revealed the humanity as emotions flickered there in full revelation of the internal struggle. Staring up at her a smile touched his lips despite the pain in his body. She was a vision of who he knew she was, a perfectly flawed woman of temper and passion.

It was why he loved her.

The admittance shook him to the core even as he finally faced what he had always known. Every time he left the homestead the dull ache in his chest as he returned to Siskeen. He'd told himself it was because of Amma and Rhae, but lately they had been stretching their wings to often leave the nest. No, it was because he was leaving Ginnie. Jerek and Marek were always near, watching over her, to make sure she had caf and breakfast in the mornings, made sure she ate and drank in the evenings, to make sure she was comfortable sleeping in her bed at night after exhausting herself at the forge. But that didn't shake the emotions that flooded through him. Jealousy climbed to the surface for it was he that wanted to be there for all of it, for the kids, for Ginnie.

Then a second wave crashed into him sending him shattered to the ground for a second time.

Groaning he struggled to rise but failed. Split skin from the sudden heat had cracked his flesh. Then Ginnie helped him rise, her hand resting upon his cheek as skin knitted together. He barely resisted turning his face into her touch as she proceeded then to drive her thumb into the wound in his chest. A snarl traced his lips until he controlled the pain that wracked his body. Her words echoed out and the feeling he had whenever he left her homestead opened a wound within.

She belongs with another.

As her words ended he reached up and took hold of her hand and slowly pulled her thumb from out of his chest. He grasped her hand in his but a moment longer before releasing it. Fresh pink skin covered the skin on his face as he looked down at her with solemn, guarded eyes even as he screamed with betrayal inside.

“I swear to you I will help restore your home. You will have Rhaegar once more to hold you, to love Amma and Rhae, to complete you. I swear to you upon the Force.”
 
Something in the way he held her hand caused Ginnie to lose the bristling anger in her shoulders. Her forehead slacked, the creases of her grief dissipated.

She squeezed his hand, fighting the disconnection for a brief second or two more. Her other hand wavered around his forehead, working down his chest to heal the burns and broken bones she caused.

“Must’ve been born to be a Dib. Can’t get through a single family outing without hurting ourselves… Did you have to push me that hard? I could have killed you and… Derek, I can’t lose anybody else. It’s not just… not about Rhae.” A rare genuine pause came to the kiffar Mandalorian. Ginnie sat on the ground beside Derek, creating a crude, but comfortable bench out of the warm ground for them both to sit. For a while she sat in silence, hand hovering a centimetre from [member="Derek Dib"]’s chest, as she healed each wound she put upon his chiseled form.

“I’ve lost every family I’ve ever had. Either been kicked out, pushed away or carried their corpses back to my mother… The only…” Sucking on her bottom lip, Ginnie paused to put her cheek on Derek’s shoulder. “The only constant I’ve ever known is [member="Muad Dib"]. The Dib’s. Being part of this family is the most important connection I have. Being able to call myself a Dib isn’t just about how much I loved my husband, and heck, I share his soul, so loving him is as easy as loving myself.

And I’m incredible!” A soft laugh echoed out of her as she shook her head. Always positive self-talk in the Dib Household… something she had to do for her daughter. Something Derek showed her how to do, even in his repressive natural state.

“I know you don’t… I know you’re the antithesis of emotional and this’ll probably just make you uncomfortable, but… being able to be a Dib… I want Rhae back because he’s part of us. You, Muad, the kids. Heck Tobias and… I’ve lost too much family and I don’t think I can take losing one person more.” A sniffle broke Ginnie’s concentration. She tucked under Derek’s arm, cuddling into the healed portion of his side. “And today you’re gonna have to live with being hugged, Derek Dib, ‘cause I need it and you need it even if you hate it and… my babies are out there in a killer jungle and if I don’t hold onto someone I love right now I’m about to go out there and get them.”
 
Theme

He felt the squeeze upon his fingers and finally the fury rubbed from her features. Her other hand drifted across his face healing the wounds inflicted, wounds he solemnly accepted. Her healing touch drifted to his chest and he grunted as the bones shifted back into place and rent flesh knitted together. Pain, itching, and relief flooded with every injury touched. Her words soothed the feverish thoughts in his mind even as she slipped down beside him. Her head drifted to his shoulder as she continued to speak of family. Laughter rang out in a magical tone that squeezed his heart.

Not willing nor able to argue with her exclamation of being incredible he merely released a small chuckle that pained his healing ribs. When she slipped her arm beneath his and around him he allowed his to encircle her against his side. It amused him. This had been both one of the most painful days of his life, and one of the most fulfilling. However he reigned in the emotions that threatened to escape the void in his chest. As her hand slipped to the next injury upon his torso, one near his heart, the wound she had driven her thumb into he took her hand and moved it away.

“I'll keep this one. Let it heal and scar. A reminder of today, and my promise to do anything in my power to reunite Rhaegar with you, and the twins.”

He offered her an encouraging smile though his eyes hid the secret pain he had finally admitted to himself. Most likely the mirrors of his soul would only reveal pain from his injuries. His arm tightened slightly against her, feeling the warmth of two pyromancers feeding upon one another. But as it was often pointed out, he began controlling himself. His embrace loosened though remained as support while his body temperature became regulated again.

“Little Amma and Rhae will be fine. They probably are more prepared than the rest of us were at their age. And they have something none of us Dibs did when we were growing up. A family. People that live and care for them. And they have each other. They fight like nexu cubs at times, but let anyone else try something and it's over for them. You raised two kids that can handle their chit. They have their mother's spirit … and their father's power.”

The pain that had been in his eyes flickered away, the polished veneer of Derek Dib once more in place. Motioning at her bare leg he smiled while changing the subject.

“I think you may want to design something that won't burn off you. So tell me, what armor are you working on these days?”
 
“Sorry I can’t do more for the pain.” The healing hand drifted until his wounds were gone, but for the moment he halted her.

“Us, Derek. To reunite Rhaegar with us. You’re part of that us, you mook.” Ginnie pretend-punched his jaw lightly, running two fingers along his jaw to turn his chin to face her. “There’s no you and me and the kids and Muad. And Ara. There’s us. We’re a Kad danged family, Uncle Dede…”

Ginnie pressed briefly into his palm, brown eyes lost for a moment in the texture of the skin on his chest. Most sapients were cold to the touch, devoid of the sacred fire which lived in all the Dibs’ bellies. Derek was warm as Rhaegar was warm before his death and encasement.

Her chest swelled. Silence descended, cleared only by the scuffle of a torturous magical force Ginnie remained unaware of, or too distracted to take note.

“… a family, like you said. We take care of our own, we care about our own and I know you rush off to Siskeen and dropping by is… a struggle for you, but no amount of distance in parsecs or in your stoicism shifts the knowledge that we Dib’s are far stronger united and… the kids’re fine because you’ve been there. In a lot of ways more than I have.” Ginnie leaned down, fingers still in his hand and kissed the thumb-print scar. “There… all better.”

Derek’s arms draped around her and for a moment Ginnie wondered why the pressure in her spine, which reminded her of her missing riduur was drifting off.

“And their uncle’s resolve. Oh, and Muad's spontaneity. Cher's fashion sense.” She smiled, the mother who struggled but always appeared and cared for her children.

“Frick, that was beskar. I’ll reforge it later, but there’s not much tougher alloy or ore in the galaxy. Maybe another heat sink layer… wouldn’t want to offend your eyes with my nakedness. Probably think pretty poor of it.” Relaxing into [member="Derek Dib"]’s side, Ginnie took a moment to stop and breathe in the cooling Vanquo air. “Got some commissions for simple things, but the biggest project is… our twins. I reforged Rhae’s beskar’gam for RhaeRhae, and I’m attempting to source some crystals to build into Amma’s. She likes a lighter build and… there’s this crystal old Jetiise records say was used in lightsabers. Rare. They work on resonant properties, and I think they’d work for Amma. Give her something to focus on. Just have to launch a raid to find some.”

Rolling her bare shoulders, Ginnie stood up and padded backward to the open hangar of the ship.

“C’mon. I packed you a change of clothes. Can never tell when a family of pyromancers might need a few extra shirts, but… I don’t want you to get cold. Let me help the unflappable Derek Dib, just for a minute.” Cocoa skinned fingers reached for him, offering her hand. Eyebrows knit in worry she’d somehow hurt him, or tried to push past the bounds of etiquette and decorum he clung to. “Take my hand.”
 
The inner turmoil was buried as he reached out and took her hand. Warm skin against his own, fire acknowledging fire. A Dib prerequisite so it seemed. Allowing her petite frame, with more strength than she should have, assist him to his feet he looked down at the charred remains of his clothing and her own makeshift covering. A small smile crossed his face at the humorous appearance of the two. Pyromancers had a tendency to go through more clothing than the average person. More so in this family. Nodding at her offer he followed her up the ramp even as he cast an incredulous look upon the damage done to the hull.

“Yes, new clothes seem to be the order of the day. And I doubt a single added layer of another heat sink will truly do the trick.”

His gaze cut across to her as they entered the hold and crossed the interior to where several crates had been stacked. Opening one of them he looked into its depths in silence. Within lay a suit that belonged to Rhaegar. Cold fingers brushed the lapel and traveled along the length of the buttons as his mind flickered with reality. Ginnie was still holding to her riduur, as she should. Going slowly as if asking permission he pulled the clothes out and draped them over the lip of the crate before stripping out of the tattered pants and shredded remains of his shirt.

“A worthy cause for Rhaegar's virginal armor. Rhae will wear it proudly. And Amma may be taller than her mother but shares a similar build. Lithe and nubile … err, agile …”

He tore his eyes away as he slipped on the trousers and pulled the shirt on, fingers deftly buttoning it up concealing his chest and the crescent wound that remained above his heart. Pausing he wondered briefly at the similar builds he and his uncle shared. Among other things shared betwixt the two. Blinking away distracting thoughts he held his arms out at sides.

“How do I look?”
 
“Naw, but there’re some fine advancements on silicar and the like. Could temper the heat build-up around the plates, char the underlayers, but the metal wouldn’t warp.” Trotting to a duffel bag off to the side, Ginnie cleared the enchantment which kept the dirt in place, and stepped away from the small pile of dust. Stretching her arms over her head, she took a moment to relax her petite frame, before dressing in an armourweave jumpsuit tied about her waist. The tank she pulled over herself was red, a colour which accentuated the liveliness of her cocoa skin.

“You… keep forgetting to leave more clothes at my place and I didn’t do the laundry so… you’ve got Rhae’s build. His… build.” Inwardly wincing, Ginnie pulled the fluffed out natural curls of her hair away from her face and tied it up in a puffed up top-knot. “Ugh… Kad dang I’d straightened it two days ago.”

The curse of brittle natural curl.

“You… you know you can leave… more at home… Kad. Not that you will, kids’re getting older, expect you’ll be feeling less indentured to watch over the place.” Licking dry lips, Ginnie lost track of her eyes, as she watched her aliit pull the shirt over his new and ugly scar.

“Hah. Hah, Dede. I’m not deaf anymore, you know?” Ginnie grinned out of the side of her mouth, eyes scanning the cut of [member="Derek Dib"] ’s clothing. “Looks… looks good on you.”

If she watched Derek out of the side of her vision, even his chin looked like Rhae. The way he cleared his throat, or shoved his hand in his pocket. Fixed his sleeve. Arms out, Derek bewitched the air in the damaged ship. Emptied it like a hatch pushed open in space.

“G-hh.” The room grew hotter by degrees, until Ginnie shifted over in her self-latching boots and fixed his collar to lay flat at the back. “Like a Dib. Snappy dressing, powerful and.. protective... Derek I don't want you to move out. I know you stay for the kids, but... ”

Ginnie's voice clammed up, her hands still on Derek's new collar.
 
She wasn't deaf anymore. The amused remark revealed the mirth at his ill choice of wording to describe Ginnie. Then again, they were apt descriptions. The color faded from his cheeks as she smoothed the fold from his collar, the flush of embarrassment leading to an altogether different flush. Their breath mingled at their proximity. Slowly his hand trailed up her arm and closed over her own hand, fingers tightening slightly, almost possessively. His free hand slipped between their bodies and raised her chin so he could look down into her eyes.

He was not immune to either the heat of the situation or the ship.

For a moment he wished he was Muad. The lack of impulse control and the self gratifying attitude without care about how it affected others. The hand that lightly cradled Ginnie's chin felt the tempo of her pulse beating, matching the pounding within his own chest. But surely for different reasons.

Slowly he lowered his face down toward Gin, eyes hungrily attempting to quell the ravenous desire that sought escape. His lips neared almost hesitant before pressing softly against her forehead. His arms slipped around her body and pulled her to him in a hug as he sighed into her hair, balance fully returning, restraint and dependability.

“I will always be there for the twins. Just as I will always be there for you. But with Amma and Rhae gone, I'm just a reminder of a past when you have so much life left for your future. A life where you don't need a grown man watching over you when you could easily have… suitors … interested in a … future with you.”

His arms slipped free and hands claimed her's upon his collar before disentangling her fingers from his neck.

“You need to live your life, take every opportunity that comes upon you. To take a chance on life and happiness. Smile, laugh, drink … but not too much … and realize that you have so much to offer, both yourself and another.”

He smiled gently as he stepped back, hands releasing hers as he placed distance between them.

“Just as I have a promise to fulfill and a new scar to remind me of my vow. I will go now. When you see Muad, let him know I need to talk to him. And let my Amma know, she's made her ba'vodu Dede so proud. Tell Rhae that I always knew he could do it. And Gin, remember it's not your fault. Remember, take a chance, you may just be surprised.”

With a final look he turned to head down the ramp refusing to glance over his shoulder.
 
The exit.

Taru's Verd'goten was supposed to be simple. Survive the forests of Vanquo and get to the other end alive.

Easier said than done.

He had already heard buzzing coming in from the direction of that first scream. And this buzzing was coming in fast.


With his adrenaline pumping fast, his hearing became slightly more fine-tuned as he broke into a free-for-all run, with this boon quickly becoming a setback as other noises, aside from the now ever-present loud buzzing, began to fill his head.

Thumps, whoops, screeches, and animals moving about, all fighting for dominance over the buzzing, but losing fast. Too fast.


Turning around to face what could only be a trio of the biggest bugs he had ever seen. Taru bared his teeth menacingly, crouched low into a fighting stance, and shuffled his fingers around the handles of both his short spear and wooden stake. Taking a careful look at his surroundings, Taru jumped towards the nearest tree, with the wasps quickly on his tail.

Getting his back to the tree's bark, he had enough time to take a deep reassuring breath before plunging the stake pointy side up to his left in an attempt to control the field. Did it work well? Nope.


The first wasp went around the stake into the range of Taru's short spear, earning itself a nice hole in one of its wings, but not doing anything to really stop the large stinger coming in hot towards Taru's head.

The only thing saving Taru from becoming a shish-ka-mando-bob(a type shis-kabob where the main ingredient is a Mando's head), was his adrenaline, or more likely, his training. He dodged out of the way in time for the stinger to skim his right shoulder, not by enough to draw blood but enough to leave a marked line of venom just waiting to burn its way into him.

As the wasp hovered there in anger while its bottom half and stinger were stuck in the tree, Taru ducked underneath it and engaged the other two wasps. Their buzzing seemed to get louder however, as they were joined by two more, with what seemed like the entire swarm following behind at a distance of maybe 20 to 30 meters.

In this momentary lapse his defenses got overran and his was stung in the arm, peeling back the area right below the right side of his ribcage.

And to make matters worse, the first wasp had gotten unstuck but its abdomen looked like it was about to burst, and with a little help from the short spear, it did, covering both Taru and the other wasps in both wasp guts and venom. It burned partially through the wings of those wasps closest to the burst, and Taru got plenty mixed about his horns.

Not paying much attention to what was on his head as most of it was just guts and blood, he ripped out the somehow undamaged stinger to be able to take a look at it later, and ran off, wiping himself off by running straight through the foliage.


157576422860408581.png


Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud | Adara Raxis Adara Raxis | Rhaegar Dib II Rhaegar Dib II | Ginnie Dib Ginnie Dib | Derek Dib Derek Dib | Mig Gred Mig Gred | Azure Djitred Azure Djitred | Fred Gred Fred Gred
 
Last edited:
Silver eyes narrowed in mild annoyance at Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud . He spoke of the dangers he sent these children off to so casually, as though it was to be a casual stroll though a quiet wood.

How foolish.

"Torture would be the least of their worries, Adenn. The Cinn Dhorcha are... unpredictable. One day you could walk up to one and attempt to speak to it, the next it would attack you on sight... The children will hear the cry of a Scriosar, and run to it, for they do not know better. The burn of a wasp's sting will be all they remember as their organs melt together. Unless a Queen devours them first.

You've sent these children to their deaths."

A sigh escaped from her lips as she looked over towards where Lailya and Leddie played nearby. Despite the joy on her daughter's face, Azure's lips were pursed together in a frown. Mig Gred Mig Gred 's words did nothing to soothe the witch's worries, especially as she turned her gaze above the tree line, just in time to see dark red smoke from a flare.

Tabitha.

"That's one less child dying today, at least. They're lucky Tabitha is with them... She's probably insulted that poor child's intelligence already though."

"Mama? Did someone get eaten by a wasp?"
Lailya ran up to her mother, and tugged on her armor's skirt. The 5 year old hadn't learned what all the flare colors meant yet, but she knew that one was for the wasps!

"Almost, Tabitha saved them first."

"She's so cool! Are you gonna go get them now?"

"Of course, unless someone gets to them before me."
Azure smiled down at her daughter, and rubbed the top of Lailya's head gently as the girl let go of her skirt to run back to Leddie. With a sigh, Azure drew her sword and turned to walk into the trees in the direction of the flare. "I'll be back with them soon."

She wondered how many had died already without the adults knowing.
 
The arguing, that's what Adenn heard the most as the verd'goten went on, the accursed arguing from Ginnie and Derek. Thankfully for Adenn, he didn't have to deal with anything like that, nor would he ever have to hopefully. Most certainly Aditya would never be this volatile, at least not literally. At least they were airing out their concerns, which was important for marriages. Sighing to himself, Adenn merely shook his head gently to himself, focusing instead on the forest before them. He heard some screams coming from out there, some that ended all too quickly, others that stopped and a slight cheer was heard. Regardless of why they screamed, Adenn saw in the corners of his eyes how several parents watched in silence, fear, and other withheld feelings, simply hoping for the best. Silently, Adenn did the same, masking his feelings completely, though internally he did wonder if this had been for the best.

As Azure spoke once more, Adenn turned his head to acknowledge her. Listening, he regretted the decision to come here some more. It was too late now though, and it had been out of his hands in the end. The people had wanted the biggest challenge for their kids, this was it, short of fighting some beast in space.
"People wanted a challenge for their adiik, this is the biggest challenge out there. So did I honestly, and this place seemed to be the best place for that. Though I understand now more just how bad it'll be, but it's too late to go back." Sighing to himself, Adenn shook his head once more. "I'll send someone up to keep an eye out, so that they can save anyone from certain death to the more horrible things here, but they, nor I will interfere. It's their verd'goten, they have to learn that it won't always be like this, but that it can be this horrible, and worse."

Sighing once more, Adenn coordinated with several of his vode to send several gunships up and over the forests. They'd be on perpetual look out to retrieve bodies and kill or save anyone they could from 100% certain death. If they thought someone could get out, they wouldn't interfere, period. Turning his gaze back towards the forest, Adenn continued to watch and wait for any news. It was then that the flare came and Adenn heard what it meant. Sighing once more, Adenn nodded, preparing to send in a gunship to pick the kid up, but it seems Azure had other ideas. Watching as she suddenly marched towards the forest, Adenn grunted in annoyance, turned to Gunner and silently told him to keep watch here, and then followed her.

Taking a few steps to walk quickly enough to walk next to Azure, Adenn unsafe tied the gun on his side and the sword at his back, lightsaber at his hip, and generally prepared himself for combat. Adenn spoke then, before Azure could utter a word.
"I'm coming with you, don't try to stop me." Laughing quietly, Adenn shook his head. "I'll watch your back and you watch mine, then we get that kid back safe and sound, and then you can yell at me for 'being dumb' or whatever nonsense you'll come up with. I've pulled crazier stunts, so we'll be fine." The confidence was very evident in Adenn's voice, and nothing would dissuade him from this course of action. Thus Adenn marched into the forest, side by side with Azure, letting nothing stop him.

EDfUZH1.gif

The buzzing behind Taru would increase as the swarm grew closer. They were intent on killing him, no matter the cost. So intent were they that they missed the fact that they were in a swarm, causing several to jostle and bump into each other. Because of this, many were pushed into trees, slowing them down significantly. This led to more slowing down, attempting to navigate around each other, effectively halving the swarm pursuing Taru, and giving him some much needed breathing room. However, the swarm kept following him, several near the front nearing ever closer, taking turns attempting to stab him from behind. It was then that a buzzing sound was heard above and behind Taru as well, for the front of the swarm was heading higher now, hoping to drop onto Taru.

While this happened with Taru, another threat was nearing Tabitha, a threat called the Cinn Dhorcha. These creatures were different from the others though, more focused on foraging than anything else. As such, there were only 3 of the creatures. All three saw the flare reach towards the heavens, and this caused much interest to form within them. They moved towards the flare's location as quickly as they pleased, aiming to discover what the flare meant. Their armament was simply, 2 carried a multitude of knives, while the third, obviously the leader, had the same and a spear. With their speed and how close they were to the flare, it took less than 10 minutes for them to get to the site of the flare. When they neared, they remained as stealthy as possible, but were still visible to anyone who was observing. Looking on, the leader tilted his head in curiosity as he drew within 10 meters of Tabitha, still partially covered by foilage, but visible from the shoulders up.

The dragon that Rhaegir had seen spotted the young boy as soon as he was seen. Taking in its new prey, the beast let out a piercing shriek before jumping to the next tree, keeping its eyes on Rhaegir. It was now in hunting mode, moving to track Rhaegir by moving from tree to tree, growing closer with every leap. It shrieked again, eyes focused on Rhaegir, taking in his every scent, movement, and anything else of note that the dragon could take note of.

Meanwhile with Fred and Adara. The dragon that Adara and Fred had heard was a younger one, overeager and confident, but very bloodthirsty. As they had heard its cry, so too could it smell them. Because of this, it was charging recklessly through the forest towards them, like an out of control bronco, intent on eating them whole. As it charged, it got caught up in some branches several dozen paces away from the pair of adiik. It was clearly visible to them now, and they visible to it, but it was precious time for them to run, fight, do something. The entanglement lasted barely a minute before it ripped itself free and roared once more. Then it charged again, staring with bloody hunger at the adiik.

Azure Djitred Azure Djitred | Ginnie Dib Ginnie Dib | Derek Dib Derek Dib | Adara Raxis Adara Raxis | Fred Gred Fred Gred | Tabitha Solus Tabitha Solus | Rhaegar Dib II Rhaegar Dib II | Taru Cadera Taru Cadera | Mig Gred Mig Gred
 
"...Feth."

"What?"

"Hush. Don't speak, we're being watched."


Tabitha eyed the treeline as she felt eyes upon her. She couldn't see them yet, but someone, or something, had found them. Possibilities ran through her mind as she struggled to keep her breathing under control. Whatever it was wasn't charging, so it wasn't a Scriosar. Wasps were out too, she couldn't hear any buzzing...

Feth.

Just after Tabitha had deduced what had found them, she saw the antlers in the distance. The Cinn Dhorcha were at the top of her "do not meet today" list. She stood protectively in front the younger teen that lay helpless on the ground, though not aggressively. If they weren't attacking yet, they might just be curious, and be on their way once Tabitha stopped being interesting.

Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud
 
“It… it kind of does make me feel better… oooh you’ve been on a Basilisk!? That’s so neato! I’ve never been on one of those, they’re terrifying. Gosh! You’ve got so many talents, Fredgred!” Adara couldn’t help the grin, at Fred. He was exactly perfectly the right sort of Mandalorian.

“That? That Fred, is a dragon…. ooo! It is a dragon! Oh goodie!” Adara hopped to her feet, clasping her hands together. Dragons were her most favourite of creatures (aside from Mr. Wimple, her gigantic force-using pet owl, and possibly one of her siblings), and also the centre of one of Adara’s most pervasive and useful Force Powers.

Animal Control.

“You know that stay behind me business? Well! Now’s it.” Setting her feet in a diagonal sparring stance, Adara stood absolutely transfixed on the spot. Eyes flickered black and red, as Adara’s deathly Force Aura expanded around her in billows of red fog. “Hold steady, FreddieGreddie.”

Breathing in the sensations of Vanquo’s flora and fauna, Adara began to drain the life force of the very ground and trees round them. Branches grew brittle. Cracked. Shattered on the ground. The energy swirled into Adara, the young dragon’s will bombastic as it was young.

Finally it approached. Tangled then released and hurtling toward them.

“There you are, gorgeous. Do you feel me yet?” One hand was all she needed to raise. The command and mastery of creatures filled Adara, who tamed her own beloved Adirarmo years prior.

While Adirarmo flew overhead nearby. Adara felt outward for the bloodthirsty creature which came at them. And with an utter disregard for the dragon’s own will, broke into its’ mind.

“DOWN.” Adara’s hand clenched, as if she gripped the dragon’s very soul in her fingertips. Impossible to break, such compulsions could be. Filled with the Dark Side of the Force.

“SIT DOWN.” Adara compelled the dragon to careen to a halt. She challenged it with her eyes, her aura and power. Even as it snapped its’ jaws, Adara gripped harder.

The beast’s jaws clanked shut.

“Yeah, Tamar and Mig are totes lovey-doves. But it’s endearing you know? They’re so cute.” Adara smiles at Fred, as if the conversation never diverted to a dragon about to meet their necks with its’ jaws. “Wanna ride a dragon with me? They’re super fun. Also, do you think we should save some of the other children, or let them die screaming? Which is less insulting? I can't decide with Mandos.”

It didn't help that she felt the pull of the southern reach of the Forest, where Rhaegar Dib II Rhaegar Dib II and Amma Dib Amma Dib rushed near Taru Cadera Taru Cadera .

Fred Gred Fred Gred Tabitha Solus Tabitha Solus Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom