What Will You...Become?

[Connor Harrison]

Connor swallowed, brow knotting a little. His hand moved down quickly as she pulled away and held her arm – not in a vice grip, but enough that she would know he didn’t want her to dismiss it.

"Difficult for whom? Me, or your reputation with others? Of course – getting close to someone as broken as Connor Harrison won’t be good for your namesake will it. Well, we all have a choice. Who I choose to feel for is mine, regardless of how they think. I will shoulder what it brings me if it gives me purpose once again."

His hand fell down, with his head looking up at the ceiling hearing the words he’d heard time and time again.

Others make the choice for him, if he could feel for them or not. Corvus did it first, and then Chastisty, and then Setzi – all making the choice for him thinking it was for the best. The best for them all, yes, but they had all helped destroy part of the humanity Connor wanted to hold onto. Now Joza was doing the same.

"Who else is there," he said calmly.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

When he posed the question, Joza snorted softly. Breifley, her eyes would sweep down to his hold on her arm and she arched a brow.

“If there’s one thing you could’ve gleaned from my history, it’s that I’m not particularly worried over my reputation. I thought we covered this…moot point.” Her gaze shifted upwards, meeting his own. When his hand fell from her arm, she moved to button the open portion of her top.

“There is someone else. Alan. He comes before everything—I can’t risk gallivanting off into the Dark like I did before. My son’s well-being will always win.” A pause, and her eyes softened. lips parting slightly. “And here I am, helping push you further into…whatever this is. I did the same for Haytham. He was a kind man until he sank so far into the Darkness that he couldn’t see a life without it. Then he turned cruel. And angry. I don’t want that for you, Connor.” Pink fingers raked through her hair slowly, starting at the crown to adjust the spiraling red locks. “But I’m a catalyst.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

"Well, as a friend all I can say is be careful of who you prey on next as a catalyst, Joza. You aren’t untouchable, and if you keep acting the way you are then you’ll put Alan in more danger than you expect."

He reached up and smoothed her lapel, brushing them down after she fixed herself.

"Hate me or not, I don’t care anymore, but I’ll always tell you how it is. I always have. And don’t worry about me, ok? I’m already on the spiral down. You, however, claim not to be." Connor nodded to her. "Don’t act like you can play with people’s emotions and get away with it. You’re a Zeltron, but that doesn’t give you permission to be cruel and blame it on your genetics. To be honest, I thought I meant more to you at least than just a play-thing."

Running his hand across his arm, scratching the skin gently, he stepped back from her personal space. She was involved with so many more people now, so many more characters who had reaches across the galaxy. Her intention wasn’t that of the Jedi code. Her intention was to get what she could from everyone else and play both sides.

"I pray the day that Haytham discovers this child never comes, and I think it’s time you take YOUR leave now, is it not."

He stepped slowly to the side, not really looking at her, and acted as a wall towards the door.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Playing with emotions. Joza settled into a thoughtful silence as Connor spoke, head tilted upwards slightly to search his face. Whatever had been going on between them could now be felt more vividly, given the outpouring of emotion from both of them. Her lips tilted down into a light frown at his final words. Realizing that she had deflated somewhat, Joza straightened out, squaring her shoulders before speaking.

“I’m not playing with you, Connor, and I never have. I don’t take pleasure in toying with people like that. I couldn’t. Maybe I haven't been crystal clear, but I’ve been honest with you.” Her gaze flickered to catch his own eyes, but only for a moment. Exhaling slowly, she chewed on her lower lip for the briefest moment. Disappointment was written across her face, and even if she could reign it in, she didn’t want to. “And even if I was the sort who could do that, I wouldn’t blame it on my race. Have I ever used being a Zeltron as an excuse for all of my promiscuity? No, I shoulder that as I need to, as a person. I know that I’m not untouchable, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.” Shifting forward a tic, Joza placed a hand over her bust before scrunching the fabric there, face twisting in momentary displeasure. The scars on her body bothered her more than she’d ever admit.

Another exhale, this time sharper, and she looked away for a moment as her voice lowered to a wavering whisper. “I believe that it was my disloyalty that pushed Haytham over the edge. Maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad between us if I’d control myself better. But that was a long time ago. I didn’t know what it meant to be in love, or what was expected of me.” In truth, she wasn’t so sure that she’d been the catalyst for Haytham’s transition. He’d likely been corrupted before their meeting, and some other event would have set it off if not her own. Regardless, it was a cornerstone memory in her development as a person. “Look, I…”

Sighing, she turned back to Connor, features having softened. “I really like you, Connor. You’ve been good to me. But it all moved so fast, and I was pregnant...and I was scared. I was too afraid to follow up with you, because I didn’t know how. There aren’t a lot of people I’ve been close to in the Silvers--those that I have either died or left, and now you’re…” She trailed, swallowing before a hand came to rub at the back of her head with a faint, ill-placed smile. “I should’ve been a better friend. Maybe I could’ve even helped you. I just...don’t want to see you suffer. Call me selfish, but I don’t want the Dark to take away anyone else from me.”

She didn’t know if Connor would believe her, but she was unknowingly drawing comparisons between him and Haytham. The latter had a tendency to step on her feelings when she opened up, hence the hesitation on her part. And in a way, she didn’t want to leave, feeling the need to stay as if she could talk him out of this. But she was tired, and he didn’t seem too thrilled with her. Moving forward, she turned to face him and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Be safe, Connor.” Turning to leave, she headed for the door.

No goodbye. This wouldn’t be the end.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Words. Empty words.

I, I, I. Me, me, me. That was all Joza cared about. Herself. It was becoming clearer every time she opened her mouth when she wasn’t biting her lip trying to find the words. Blaming herself for Haytham was getting tiresome, and it took all his might to not lay into her and help her see that she wasn’t the centre of everyone’s balance between Light and Dark.

All Joza Perl was to those who fell for her was a manipulative and fickle girl who wanted everything by giving nothing.

His eyes found hers and he stared intently at her, calming himself from shouting her down as she preached about how she wanted to “save” them, or erase her guilt from pushing people away when she didn’t have the courage to get close to them for the right reasons.

Connor shifted slightly as she came closer, and didn’t move for her to kiss him. It was a shallow kiss that he didn’t even feel.

It would have been easier if she hadn’t tried to explain what he was to her – more fumbling, more “me me me”. It was nice to know just how much he meant to her after all he had tried to do. She wanted to wrap him up in cotton wool and protect him from himself, when she couldn’t even protect herself.

"Goodbye, Joza," he said flatly.

He looked at her leaving his quarters which would be for the last time, and the last time Connor Harrison as he was now would see her. If there would be a next time? Who knew. The door closed behind her, the red locks of hair and soft pink skin shut away.

Connor closed his eyes tight to accept another loss in his life, another glimmer of light extinguished. It was easier to accept because it was he who had caused it – he who had failed to be more of a man to her, to be something she could look up to and love rather than pity. He scratched his arm again as he walked back through the room, and saw her glass of water, her trace of lipstick on the rim.

The glass smashed into pieces, spraying water across the door, as it was thrown to where she had left.

Chest swelling with the frustration he was bottling up, struggling to contain, it felt like it was drowning him from the inside out. Breathing harder, he walked to the small washroom behind his bunk and looked at his face in the mirror. There he was. The man who lost it all.

Through gritted teeth, he punched the mirror with one strong hit. The cracks spider-webbed out from the centre and distorted his face into numerous angles, small splinters falling into the sink with a nice sheen of crimson from the bloodied knuckle, a couple of glass shards protruding from the ripped flesh that didn’t bother him. Pain was comforting. Pain was normal.

Connor gripped the side of the sink and looked at himself.

So be it.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

A crack scored across her heart when he bid her an indifferent goodbye, but Joza held herself well by turning around and exiting, shutting the door behind her softly.

Inwardly, she winced when she heard the glass shatter against the other side of the door and fought the instinct to turn back and make sure that Connor was alright. Hesitation crept into her gait, and she’d made it down the hall and around the corner before pausing to press her back against the wall, a hand over her mouth to help steady her breathing. If she barely knew Connor, then she’d shrug off an interaction like this with a scowl and a “good riddance”. But they’d been close at one point, and now everything was a mess--and it hit her deeper than she’d admit.

Her eyes glassed over and she scrubbed at them with the back of her hand before any tears could well up, inadvertently squeezing a few drops of saline from the corners of her eyes. What a mess. What a mess. Had she been too aggressive? Despite what he’d assumed, it felt good to be blatant and honest with him. Joza took no joy in being manipulative beyond the occasional one night stand, and certainly not towards someone she cared for. Her attempts to salvage their wreck of a meeting by opening beyond what she was comfortable with were deflected, and perhaps even made anything worse.

Sithspit. Muttering to herself, she patted down her front as well as her pants pockets for a loose cigarette. Nothing. Nothing would be able to calm her nerves now, and she found herself diving into the inevitable self analysis that follows a fight. He seemed to like her when she was a more docile, malleable creature. The majority of their meetings had been with her taking on a weaker role, the confused, scared girl who didn’t know what to do. Maybe he didn’t like the challenging parts of her, but he’d frustrated her to the point where gentle understanding just couldn’t cut it anymore. She was angry, and she was scared. Scared that he’d doing something he’d regret, that he was in pain, and angry that she couldn’t do anything to help. That she’d only exacerbated his transition.

Get over yourself.

A balled up fist slammed against the durasteel wall in a moment of unchecked frustration, leaving no dent and aching knukcles. Hissing in pain, Joza winced as she cradled her now injured hand with a sort of bitter smile. Maybe she was just too scared to lose him, and too arrogant to think that she could have done something to stop this spiral short of jumping into bed with him and making him believe he was the love of her life. Even so, this was not going to be their last interaction. She’d make sure of it.

This isn’t over, jackass.

[member="Connor Harrison"]