Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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What about now?

She summoned him, not as her alias that belonged with the Fringe. No she called him as herself, mostly because she respected him enough, cared for him possibly, but she also knew he would figure it out. She bit on her lower lip as she paced in the building belonging to the Fringe’s leadership. Not many passed through here so her identity was protected; Ashin as well had possibly put up barriers to protect the woman she had married as well.

Closing her eyes she remembered his cold gaze, something was missing, something had been extinguished and she was determined to find out what. She paced the fabric of her simple white dress flowed as she moved back and forth along the room. Her feet tapping lightly against the hard flooring. Maybe this was a bad idea; maybe she should have left him alone? Stopping before a window, she opened it and stepped out to the balcony. It towered over the planet that was home to the Fringe, here she was a Queen another Queen though – one no one knew.

“Feth, what was I thinking?”

Her fingers pressed against her eyes as she continued to feel the cold gaze pierce through her.

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
A thick, dark chill entered the room, like a winter's fog. It was his presence, his aura. Cold, like ice. An unreadable, slippery, deceptive glacier. The mercurial man did not egress from the shadows. He simply walked around the corner; still wearing black and still wearing that mask. His gaze was like a pool of unfrozen water on Hoth; it sucked air from lungs and left shakes and fevers. Those twin pools now turned on @[member="Spencer Jacobs"].

"You... summoned me." The cold, high voice issued from Mikhail's lips.
 
Spencer didn’t turn, she felt his cold gaze more so now than in her thoughts. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she pondered how to answer him, how to ask him what had changed. She missed the way he looked at her even if he could never have what he desired. Knowing that she had someone else looking out for her made her feel special and safe. Spencer closed her eyes as she did her best to regain some sort of composure and quickly answered him.

“Yes, I summoned you.”

A pause to choke down any strains that Spencer had lingering on her voice. The last thing she needed to show was weakness, without knowing fully what had changed with in the man. Finally she spoke again and turned to face him.

“You’re different, what happened to you? Where did you go Mikhail?”

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
"Mikhail?" The stranger cocked his head, before the slightest touch of a smile slithered across his features. "....Yes, he went by that name didn't he?"

He looked her up and down with an appraising eye, devoid of emotion. That white dress, that power. "You remind me of someone," he stepped closer, staring harder, then shrugged. "Nevermind. You want to know about the past? About where I was.... An interesting question." He extended his arms to either side in a simple gesture. "I am as I have always been." He let out a soft breath and said in an undertone, "Mortals, always so many questions."

Dimly, he searched through his past life into the memory of Mikhail Shorn. This woman had been important to him.... @[member="Spencer Jacobs"]. He was beyond that now. He had ascended. She clearly expected devotion and care. She knew not with what she dealt.

"Why should it matter to you?"
 
He was acting odd, Spencer raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. Nothing was similar, before she would feel him through the Force the way his aura wished to meld with hers. Not anymore, she couldn’t feel him anymore. Two clicks of her heels echoed as she took the steps forward further closing the gap between them. She wanted to look at him, stare upon the face she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

Fighting the urge to reach out, she spoke to him quietly. Mortals? What was he going on about now?

“Mikhail…it matters because I care. I don’t keep people close, but there are reasons we continue to run into each other. I told you so many times I would be devastated if something happened to you. You don’t feel the same, you don’t sound the same, I can’t --- something is different, but what is it? Why are you talking like this?”

She wanted to hit him, maybe that would jog some sort of memory. Had something happened to him after Moridin’s attack? Closing her eyes she fought back tears, she felt for him, but it was easy to feel her own emotions, the once emotional and fiery Mikhail was nothing more but smoldering ash now.

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
Oh, but how that ash smoldered. A simmering deep red, just waiting for a reason, any reason, to flare to life in consuming flames. Nothing crossed the black, barren terrain of his soul save the persistent winds of indifference. He stared. The light reflected dimly off the glimmer of tears in her eyelashes. Those little droplets refusing to run their course, but on the verge streaming like a waterfall. He wondered if he could make them fall. His mouth twitched suddenly, nearly a smirk. Something shifted in his demeanor. Blank apathy was replaced briefly by a sense of dark revelry, before skipping to icy derision.

"Why shouldn't I?" Mikhail almost hissed, eyes narrowing. He began to circle the blonde with slow steps, drawing ever closer. "You made it clear who you chose. You think I would want you now? That I'm hanging off your every word?" His words dripped like poison. "You're not worth that much, Blondie." He came to stand in front of her again. They were so close, almost touching. Mikhail leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I could kill you now and not think twice about it."

Slowly, Mikhail pulled back and removed the mask, revealing his pale features and a wicked, sneering smirk.

"But then, why ruin the cosmic fate's fun?"

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
 
She held her breath when he was close whispering the poison into her mind. Spencer was created to withstand Sith poison, but the poison from @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] had nothing – no antidote and no immunity. The words cut through her and she continued to fight back the tears. This wasn’t the man that she had protected in the Jedi Temple, this wasn’t the man that came and visited her when she was near death, and this wasn’t the man that held her as they danced to a song.

Spencer wouldn’t give whatever he had become the satisfaction of her tears. She looked at him and shook her head, taking a step back she took him back into sight. There was nothing more to say, Spencer knew that this day would come eventually and the dream that she was living of knowing Mikhail was always there for her would come to an end. How foolish was she to dream that more than Ashin loved her? Closing her eyes she couldn’t help it, a tear fell and she felt her shoulders shudder for a moment.

Finally she looked back at him and did her best to choke down any other tears.

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“I was worth something before to you and I’m worth something now to someone. But you’re right you can’t hang off my words like you once did. You promised me though Mikhail – you promised you would protect me…”

Another memory flashed in her mind, she remembered how he looked at her and the smile she would give him.

“If you’re so confident that you can kill me – why not just do it? You didn’t have to answer my summons, but you did. Why did you come here – if you hate me so much that you wouldn’t think twice about killing me?”
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
A dark, arching brow met Spencer's question. Why indeed. But, then, Spencer was an empath. Surely she could feel the emotions inside Mikhail. All she had to do was reach into his heart and feel the.... the nothing. The icy void. Mikhail didn't care about her. He didn't seem to care about anything. Maybe she could reach deep enough to drag out his self-loathing and the guilt he felt for past actions. But not now. Not when everything about him was just so utterly... cold.

"Hate you?"

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"I don't hate you... I don't love you. I feel nothing for you. You could drop dead and I wouldn't bat an eye. That is why I could kill you, because I really just don't give a damn."

Shorn stopped, taking a moment to let this words sink in, watching her reaction with those piercing eyes.

"Oh, but I forgot. You love me. You're just too afraid to do or say anything. But you always think back to what might have been." Mikhail closed his eyes. "Mmm, I can just see it." An image projected from his mind into hers, surprisingly full of warmth and joy. A simple afternoon. A kitchen. The yellow light of the sun resting on their faces as they laughed. He was leaning over her, the smell of pine needles mixing with lavender. They were together. Happy.

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And then the image vanished.

Shorn shrugged apathetically. "Oh well."

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
 
He was right; there was something always in the back of her mind that wondered. There was always a piece of her heart that belonged to him, no matter. Closing her eyes she felt the image, she could feel the warmth filling the emptiness she felt when she reached out for him. Was she an idiot to believe he was always going to be there? Was she cruel to be okay with his feelings and wish they would return? The image faded and she grasped for it to come back, to feel the man that she had once protected back at the Temple. Opening her eyes she looked towards him, her heart continuing to shatter as she drew in a breath.

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“Oh well? That’s all you have to say after everything? Oh well?”

He wanted to play that game – toy with her mind. He was one of the few that could project the way he did into her mind. After the phobis device encounter she was granted the grace of her mind being shielded from almost all attacks. Though, Mikhail knew how to get into her head, he knew exactly which string to pull to force the walls to shatter. He wanted to play this game, stepping closer she like him projected images into his mind. Only these were memories and one of her earliest – in the Jedi Temple where she protected him and their brief moments of banter. Her nick name he had bestowed upon her that day. He would feel the surge of emotions, the curiosity and the desire to protect him. Everything she felt that moment – her crush and the way he made her feel.

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Safe, he was the only other one in the galaxy that could make her feel that way.

“You’re right. I do love you and I do wonder what could have been. I chose someone else because your heart was never truly mine until you realized I was out of reach. Even if you for the rest of your existence feel nothing for me…I will—“

Spencer stopped and her hand felt the cold alchemized metal, even though her heart forever belonged with Ashin and she would never leave her – Mikhail was the only one that resided somewhere there as well. She reached up and attempted to slap him.

“I will always have feelings for you @[member="Mikhail Shorn"], I don’t know if I should hate you for that or if I should love you more for it.”
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
Shorn's hand blurred and he caught Spencer's wrist deftly. Cold, unyielding fingers wrapped around her warm skin. Pale eyes blazed with anger, boring into her. She had not really been trying to hurt him. She could never do that. Mikhail's mouth curled cruelly.

"You think a little nostalgic trip will make me feel?" Mikhail almost spat. His words dripped with venom. "Hate me, love me, don't you get it? I. Don't. Care."

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Fingers tightened around her wrist in a crushing grip. Spencer Jacobs might be the "chosen one" when it came to mental prowess in the Force, but when it came to physical strength, she was just an average white human female. A deadly urge began to beat in Mikhail's heart, a cold rush of suspense inside him as he imagined what it would be like to snap that arm, to feel her bones break. How could he be this angry? No... no, it wasn't his anger. Mikhail's eyebrows drew together. Derriphan. Even at this distance it still whispered in his mind. The infernal weapon had established some sort of link with him. But he could control it now. He was lord over its chaos. He would direct it, not the other way around. He had had to kill a dozen royal guards to retrieve the weapon. They had all been corrupted by its aura. They didn't know it like he did. They couldn't recognize the signs. Madness, for starters.

A glimmer of that madness shone in Mikhail's eye now. He was no mad king, but sometimes he wished he was, then maybe he would have an excuse for all of... this. Instead he chose not to feel anything. It seemed so much easier this way.

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"]
 

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