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!

We Are Not What We Were Raised to Be

In the shuttle, eyes rested on the Jensaarai armor that was kept as a keepsake. Five years to make with blood, sweat and tears made it even more difficult just merely to discard it. Frequently staring at the crafted armor would send her back to the session of her armor being judged by the Defenders of Jensaarai. However, she was further back. Cezar jerked and cried while she was trapped during training with the Dathomirian Witches. Her own sister was striking her to mark the moments she failed a piece of the training. In the real world, a couple of her old wounds opened across her back.

The pullback could be more related to being on Ryloth. There were witches here, and her desire for crushing them was strong. Though right now, she needed to get out of her memory. That was a harder thing to do. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The pain from the memories was not just a reminder. They were real to her all over again. With that, it pushed beyond handling, and she hit the floor of her shuttle hard.

The sudden jerk of her body and scream, Cezar slowly got to her feet. Looking over herself, she was not happy that this had happened. It was getting tiring to deal with. Straight into the washroom to clean up. After wrapping her body to help hold wounds close, she washed her face. The removal of her makeup gave her a moment to look in the mirror. Another reminder what she had lost. There was a boy that did not choose this life. She decided to keep the makeup off. Cezar put her hair up into a beanie, selecting bagger shirt and pants too. Any feminine signs were suppressed.

Popping some painkillers and washing them down with the last of her rum, Cezar grabbed her sabers and let them slide down her pockets. The Ewok coat was tossed on. Leaving the ship, another set of pills were taken. The bar was the first step since the pills needed help.

However, the quest for the bar changed to sabers being out and staring at the random person that in her mind looked like Dathomirian witch. Cezar was slipping back into memory while striking down the casual person. Looking up, some beast ran from her. To her, it was child rancor which meant more witches were near. She bolted after to kill it. Then she found more beasts that she ended quickly with her sabers. All were “rancors” to her. The girl’s mind had slipped back more to a Dathomirian forest. Which she slowly stalked through, everything had to die, or she would not be safe.



[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
There were forests on Ryloth. The wolf ran through them, letting the wind blow her fur in every possible direction. The forests of Stewjon had been superior in all that had to do with forests, but the ones of Ryloth proved to give her a freedom she had not had in the past; the freedom to be herself.

There were beasts in the forests too. The angry wolf, scarcely bigger than a cub, tore them apart with her teeth. Her muzzle was covered in a combination of blood and saliva and she bathed in it.

Why anyone would ever prefer their human shape above their wolf shape was beyond her. Free from the shackles of the oppressive life she had been subjected to on Stewjon, Aline knew that she wold never prefer to walk on two when she could walk on four. The wolf demanded freedom, and now that she was in a place where the freedom could not be taken away from her, she would never, not ever, give it away.

But she was not alone.

Her Lupine nose picked the scent up of another person. The other person was not a Lupine like her, and unless they had prior experience, they would believe she was a wolf. Alwine could also smell the death coming; the human was busy killing. Her lips stretched back into what could be translated into a wicked smile, and with little thought, her legs moved, running wildly and madly towards the source. If there was killing to be done, she would be a part of it, or she would kill those who denied her access.

She was not on Stewjon anymore.


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
They were running, how dare they be such cowards. Sabers flew after them to strike them down. Of course, the beasts and a few trees were innocent victims of Cezar’s slight madness. The feel of Dathomirian day felt real to the woman. It did not help that force felt close to the home she ran from. Spirits were all the same to her.

Catching her sabers, Cezar gave chase to the ones she missed. Her feet touched the ground lightly in her sprint. The forest even being on another world was all the same. Trees to dodge and footing having to be careful because the ground could have surprises. A broken bone would be awful at the moment. Missions were coming up, and this visit was planned to be a few days.

One beast that had been chased down quickly met its end from above. She had leaped into the air and pounced the creature. Both sabers had plunged into the poor thing. Keeping the sabers in, she glanced around for more targets. There was one coming at her. It was such a small little thing than the others she had killed. It made Cezar believe the mother was nearby. A more significant kill would be so lovely in her mind.

With her left hand, the saber launched into the air towards [member="Alwine Lechner"]. Then using spin to get up to her feet, the right hand threw the other saber too. They were going to hit something even missed. There were enough trees around them to cut through, or friendship would not get off the ground today.

After the throws, Cezar did follow up with charging at the animal. Getting could mean it would cry for its mother, and the real fun could happen.
 
When she thought that there was killing to be done, she would be a part of it, or she would kill those who denied her access, she had meant that she wanted to be part of the people doing the killing. Not part of the creatures that were gonna get killed.

The lightsabers flew at her in a speed she was unaccustomed to, faster than beasts, faster than prey.

The wolf howled and jumped backwards, avoiding the first one, but the second touched some of the fur on her back and she responded with a low growl. She might have been a wolf, but she was still a woman, and you did not f*ck with a woman's hair.

She eyed the woman who had dared sin against her. They were not on Stewjon. She would never again bow to those who harmed her, and this woman, with her ugly clothes, had harmed her. And she would die for it.

The wolf launched from her position into the air, her jaws aimed to lock around the other woman's weak little neck. She would have blood this night.


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Sabers missing had Cezar reaching behind her for the ax she always has with her. The trusty ax that was used to make her Ewok cloak. However, it could not be pulled out quick enough. Her arm was still behind her as she focused on moving more from the rancor's attack. Well, it was a wolf, but she saw mini rancor.

Since she had many things going at once, let her reacting slower than usual. So teeth could sink into her shoulder. The weight also sent down to the ground. Right arm pinned under her and the ax in hand. The pain surged through her body.

Such was enough Cezar's reality actually snapped. She was no longer viewing Dathomir or the fight she was reliving. Now she saw what was happening to her. Pushing up to free her arm, also she began to scream. A mixture of masculine and feminine tones blended into the scream. Arm becoming freed allowed her to use the bottom of the handle to hit the wolf's head.


[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
Well, it wasn't the neck that she had grabbed. It was the shoulder. Still good enough. The wolf's jaw was strong enough to tear it apart if she so wanted, her enemy's arm stuck behind her back.

The two fell to the ground and Alwine snarled with malicious intent, ready to rip the arm out of its socket with her bare teeth.

And then she heard the screaming.

The wolf wanted to keep tearing, but the woman was confused. She stopped her deeds, looking at the person below her, screaming both in masculine and feminine tones. This was not what she was used to. Usually, the screams were either this or that, but not both.

Suddenly, the wolf was curious. To satisfy the wolf's curiosity, the wolf knew the prey had to remain alive.

The problem was, that while she was a wolf, she could not communicate.

She barked twice and grabbed a branch. Shifting would take too long before letting the person know what she was up to. She moved her head wildly, using the stick to write in the sand. The message couldn't be long, because time was always precious.

Alwine wrote, PLEASE HOLD, and then stood a few inches away from it, beginning to shift. Shifting, at her age, was a matter of about five minutes. It was not as instantneous as it was for her brothers, who could do so in mere seconds. But it didn't matter. As bones cracked and moved, wolf legs turning into human limbs, she relished in it, moaned in extacy. There was only one love for Alwine Lechner and it was the love for her ability to transform.

She just needed a little bit of time to properly do so.


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Being released from the hold came quicker than she expected from an animal. Some rancors were intelligent and spiders that knew more than they led on. Maybe it was a world of smart wolves she let running her mind.

The biggest thing for her really was moving back, away from the wolf. Cezar so hated witches, but one good thing that came out of it was the abilities she had to learn. They wanted their slaves to survive in battles, or it was a waste of time using them at all. The ax was set next to her, and the hand came up to the injured shoulder. Rubbing it, she let little Peacean words slip under her breath to at least stop the bleeding.

Of course, the spell ends with her saying, "The... Frack..." Like Cezar would take her eyes off of the animal while trying to fix herself up. Seeing a wolf write was not new since Rancors wrote at times, it was more the shifting. Never in her life had she seen such a sight. Mouth hanging opening, shocked look, and the whole nine yards of having one's mind blown were on displayed.

And, she thought her situation was different. Oh how this just took the cake in Cezar's world.


[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
The change was a blessing. She loved the feet of her muscles elongating or shortening, depending on the direction of her shift. She loved the feel of the fur coming out or going away. Her ears becoming sharper, higher, the snout pressing into her face as her features became human. At home, she often liked to lay on her back as the change happened, and finish it as a human content.

Now though, she had a mission. To satisfy the curiosity of the wolf, she had to become the woman.

When the shifting finally ended, Alwine stood and stretched out, her form rising to the height of exactly five feet, her body naked in the Ryloth forest air. Her spine knacked a little and she let another moan of pleasure escape before her chocolate brown eyes fell back to the person in front of her.

"Why do you scream both like a boy and a girl?" she asked directly, not bothering with any other potential question. The wolf had to know.


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
The awe and shock of what was witness could be summed up with a cartoon head exploding. Words could not leave her mouth. She just circled Aliwine. Everything in the moment lost to her. Once circling the woman close to hundred times, alright five times but for joke wise, it was one hundred. Cezar finally found words to her reaction. In such a way that glass could break at the high pitch of excitement “But frack, likethisistotalcool. Sodoesthinghurtany? Howlonghaveyoubeenlikethis? Whereareyoufrom? Aretherelotsofwolvesthatchangedintopeople? CauselikeIrememberstoriesofwolvestalkingtopeopleandusingtheforce.” When slowed down to a person speaking normal, you could actually hear words like. “like this is total cool. So does that thing hurt any? How long have you been like this? Where are you from? Are there lots of wolves that change into people? Cause like I remember stories of wolves talking to people and using the force.”

While everything was lost to her for a moment, she did remember a question was asked. So, she did settle down and softly with close to complete disregard to making it heard any by a person. Explained with intent of tossing the words and care away.
“Dathomirian clan made their men into women so their army was larger against enemy clans…”

[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
Alwine would never get used to people's reactions at seeing her shift for the first time. Astonishment was always part of it, usually followed by accusations of consorting with demons or witchcraft. It had almost killed her on Stewjon, but ever since her shackles had been freed, she had become to one to do most of the killing. There was no better feeling in the world, in the galaxy, than to know that was the dominant, that she was the killer, that she was the one who could do all the things to others that had been done to her, and more.

She stood proud as the person circled her, her back straight, her chin up, her shoulders back. She was proud of her body. The only shortcoming it had was that she was... Well, short. A mere five feet that contained enough rage for at least three more such bodies. She would not shy away from her nudity as she had been taught to at home. She would take pride in it, and show it, and never cower.

And then came the questions. Alwine looked at the person, cocking her head to the side. Boy, those were a lot of questions. And rude, considering they had come before he received an answer to hers. Only she did receive the answer the.

"So you are a man made into a woman?" she asked, the confusion all too clear on her face. On Stewjon, women were inferior. They were second class citizens. No one actually wanted to be a woman, and she had often dreamed of waking up as a man so she could join her brothers, help her father, not sit all day knitting, churning butter, cleaning...

Now it was her turn.

She walked to the person, still not answering the barrage of questions that he... She? had asked, and poked her in the shoulder. And then in the arm. She was going to touch that body and see what the effects of such a change was. The wolf took what the wolf willed.

[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Eyes looked down in a bit of shame. The struggle to figure out who she was a long fight. With the Jensaarai, she came to terms and started to view herself as a woman. However, at this moment, she had suppressed that to take on more masculine appearance she could with the changes that had already been done. Here she was just disregarding her own choice with being hidden.

What did not help the matter at all was Aliwine poking her now. Little pain from the push into her shoulder had her wince a little since it was still tender from the bite. After a few more pokes, Cezar had enough. Moving away, added in a declaration too. “That’s enough.”

Reaching up, Cezar pulled her beanie down. She shook her head letting her hair fell and shake loose from the bundling that had to happen under the hat. The white to purple hair fell along her back and draped around her face. It scaled back the look she had and gave the more feminine appearance she was used to having. Then to add in good measure, she pulled her baggie shirt off, to expose her more feminized upper body that still a small tank top but everything could be seen. A woman stood back from Aliwine instead of the more mannish version that was there before.

This was not a new reaction from Cezar. The show off a bit was what clans did with their slaves. Growing up in that environment made her used to this, but she should learn to stop it.

A little off-putting by the poking and question because she did answer it already. She sighed and responded again. “Yes… the clan I came from believed that death by a male was the worse honor a witch could experience ever. So the clan made us into a woman, and us fight their battles to have the enemies die with dishonor and brought back as corpse slaves.”

Suddenly, Cezar felt like saying more. It could have been the drugs, memories she had before snapping out, or the bite still hurting to cause it; however, she went on a rant. “Some clans had men equal to women, but they were small and hid from the larger clans that still held the old ways with women ruling and men as slaves. Even when that dumb chit was ended, they still did it. It was all stupid, and the dumb witches should all die for all the crimes they have committed. Dathomir sucks because of their old ways… so glad I left that place.”


[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
"That's enough".

Alwine stopped, the wolf startled. How dare she say that was enough?! Her curiosity had not yet been sated, she wanted to poke more, to remove the clothes and see what was underneath, to ask more questions, to...

Well, it appeared she didn't have to. The long hair came cascading down and she looked at it like a deer in headlights. It was so... It was... It was so beautiful! Did that color naturally grow from a person's head? She had never seen hair colors in anything outside of the blonde to raven color scheme. She wanted to let her fingers glide in it, to see if it felt like regular hair did.

And then came the words. Death by a male, bad. Well, she couldn't argue with it. There was some basic logic behind that. But then clans, and different rules and...

"I don't know where or what this Dathomir is but it sounds like a very idiotic place," she said with a nod, "and I come from an even more idiotic place, so that says a lot, coming from me."

She looked at the body of the person. She still wasn't sure if it was a boy or a girl. The person said they were a boy, turned into girl, but that wasn't all. She had to ask. The wolf's appetite for knowledge roared.

"They raised me to be submissive, to bow my head, to know that literally everyone was my superior, either because they were of a higher caste, or because they had a cock."

Alwine let a wolfish grin out.

"But as you can clearly see..." she resumed, "I am neither submissive, nor inferior."


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Cezar had to scratch her head. It was odd to hear about a world that was the opposite to her life. The Jensaarai had everyone as equals but that was force group thing. It was not there to rise her and teach her anything outside of the force. Dathomir was her blood and where she was pretty much educated.

“Well, it appears we were supposed to be born on each other worlds.” Cezar tossed out with a little sass.

Her mind kept going back to the idea of world that men ruled, and if she was born there. All of this would not have happened. She could have been a he, and not a slave with a life of abuse from her own family then by strangers she never really got to know.

Pain started to creep upwards. Yet, it was not the bite in her shoulder. The memories of being whipped was starting to make their way into her reality.


[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
"No," came the quick response, "that is another idiotic thing to say."

She looked at the person, noting the small movements of the muscles beneath the skin of the face.

"I will never belong on a world that does not let me be what I am," Alwine finally said, "and neither should you."

This Dathomir place, this place of witches. She had bee trialed as a witch. She had been starved, beaten, tortured. She had thought perhaps, just as Stewjon had been wrong about her, it had been wrong about witches in general. She had certainly never conspired with demons, never made love potions, never sold the soul of her betters to any dark gods.

But this person spoke of witches being something much more sinister. And whether they were witches or not, for their sins against a person like the one standing before her, they would have to die.

"It appears we were both forced to become something we were not," she said, her voice low, close to a growl, "but now that am not on Stewjon anymore, I am now what I was meant to be. I am the wolf and I am the woman. I am the predator, the hunter, the killer. I am Alwine Hilde Lechner and I will never bow my head in submission to anyone ever again. Now who are you?"


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Who are you?

That was a great question. Who is one when they had to be another? How can one deal with identity forced on them by those that did not care about the well being of the one? This what Cezar had dealt with for a lifetime. With the Jensaarai, she found herself getting closer to figuring out who she was. It alluded her still.

The question was loaded if one could not tell for Cezar. Of course, she was over thinking it. Since at the same time, it was a simple question. Great, loaded, and still easy question that had her quiet for the moment. Was she going to say Cezar or Elisabeta? How was she going to say it? More questions formed from just one question that it was driving her a little crazy.

With best feminine voice she could do with a little masculine bass laced in it, she finally just stopped her brain and answered. "Cezar Alexandrescu...."

Hands flew up and covered her mouth. What the heck did she do? Did she really say that when she had been giving people another name? What was wrong with her today. Everything was so off and was getting worse in her mind.

[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
Cezar Alexandrescu. It was a masculine name, but it was a feminine voice. But since Alwine knew by now that Cezar could produce both, she assumed the feminine voice was the choice that Cezar made. And it all boiled down to choices, didn't it?

"You forgot the part about not bowing your head to anyone anymore, Cezar," Alwine reminded her, "I'm not going to keep you around unless you say that."

Did it dance on the border between expecting to be listened to and not? Sure. But Alwine didn't care. She was the alpha in her life and she was strong enough not to need all the betas and omegas crowding it. She would build a pack made entirely of alphas. They would fight, they would bicker, they would bite each other. And it would be glorious.


[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 
Lower her hands, Cezar was made to think again. This was getting ridiculous. How could she say such thing and mean it if being told to say it. There was not a sense in this to her. Also when she ever bow her head. Ugh, this wolf lady was making no sense.

Sighing first, she came up with an answer. One that needed her to stand her ground. Hands were kept open at her side. Focusing on the locations of her ax and a saber, she stared right at Aliwine.

Keeping up her tone she used already; she smarted right back at the wolf. "Not going to say it... I don't need to say. I already spoke with my actions by leaving my home, my friends, and what was left of my family. You can live with just knowing my name and not hearing that chit come from my lips."

[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
A reminder was needed. It was not that Cezar forgot what she was doing or the goals she had set in place. The slip back into memory on Dathomir made it easy for her to forget where she was. Looking around, she was reminded. "I am here to hunt down witches since they have ties to Dathomir... I just got sidetracked is all."

Also, she had to remark about the bit before the question. "And, what you mean by keeping me around... Sorry, lady but I'm going to my ship to patch what you did to me. Then its back to the hunt. You can go play wolf far away from me."

That all said, Cezar pulled her ax to her hand with the force. Attaching it to her belt, the sabers were summoned back to her. Nothing was going to be left for some stranger to get ahold of. As she walked passed Aliwine, she threw her shirt back on and handled onto the beanie afterward in her left hand.

[member="Alwine Lechner"]
 
Witch hunt. Alwine gave a low growl, the wolf in her sensing the danger. She was not a witch, but she was trialed as one, tortured as one, burned and drowned and frozen as one. She hated the witches and the Mandragora because of their leader, but she could not in good faith allow Cezar to go around killing them just for being witches. The gods on Stewjon were false. There was no demon consorting. There were no demons. And now Cezar wanted to leave.

As Cezar began to walk, Alwine merely followed. She was short, but her legs were fast, and she had no issues keeping the pace.

"I can't let you go around killing witches just for being witches," the blonde one said, "I mean sure, they suck, and they break packs, and they think they're all highty and mighty and-" She was getting distracted. And she was convincing the wolf in her that witches should be killed. Bad wolf.

"And I don't play wolf. I am a wolf, in case you forgot how you stared and gawked at me while I shifted," she added.

But how to keep Cezar around? Both the wolf and the woman were drawn to her. Not in a romantic way, not in a sexual way. Neither the woman nor the wolf were ever interested in that.

"How about we start again?" Alwine offered, "I'm sorry I bit your shoulder. I thought you were trying to kill me. You also did sort of burn my fur. Never mess with a woman's hair. And speaking of hair, I would love to run my fingers through yours. It's so pretty!"

[member="Cezar Alexandrescu"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom