Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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What's in a Dance?

Mishel Kryze


Mishel sat outside of her Riverside shack out on the small balcony, her legs pulled up on top of one another. She sat with a fishing pole in her hand, rope line from the balcony indicated that she had set traps for the smaller crustaceans. The sound of the trees rustling in the wind was met only by the sound of the water rushing by as it came down from the mountains. A small dirt path made from the many travels of one teenager going to and from the main road. Hoofprints of the local beasts could barely be seen. Birds flew overhead and it felt as if everything was at peace here, everything had its place, the only true difference between here and the Bastion. The Ysalamir which made it so those with the force were nullified and in a way - that was perhaps for the best considering what lay not so far away beyond the Rapachi Mountains.

Cropping out from the banks of the river was the shack itself, easily seen as smoke rose from the open roof. And while a small path led to the shack itself, it looked as if someone made a bridge but then slammed it away. Parts of it were adrift in the river, and other parts were used to make a small hatchery for when the river ran too slow. In the very front of the shack looked to be the beginnings of a small smoke house. Or smoke stall as it were, huddled together with mud bricks, sticks and other building materials from the land. You could almost smell the meat's flavor as it cured within the mudhut. A wooden patio welcomed you to the shack where Nialan Mead barrels marked, "Dreddig Haus Brewery," were stacked. Mishel said nothing and spoke to no one here, it was a place of solitude, and as she sat with her fishing pole, hair slung back around one shoulder. Her eyes seemed so far away as if she were lost in a distant memory and maybe she was for Skor had taught her a lot and it also confused her. Ever since Mustafar, the young girl had never been quite the same and the once curious personality had been diminished, but then death has a way of teaching you, she supposed. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not hear the older teenager who approached, nor did she even see her.

[member="Samka Derith"]
Maps and instincts were all the Ren had to track down the meeting point. In that respect, she was grateful to the Ysalamir which prevented them being slaves to the Force. They had to adapt, to be prepared to fight without the Force if need be. But it could also be irritating to be stripped of one's senses, which Sam was finding now. She was running late having taken a few missteps in the jungle but thankfully hadn't encountered any of the dangerous wildlife which would have been a further inconvenience.

When she eventually did find her way down the narrow pathway to an innocent looking hut, Sam was surprised and slightly troubled by the amount of effort required to make it. Apparently the younger girl had been spending quite a lot of time here, away from the security of the Bastion. The effort gone into it had clearly been substantial. Was the Bastion not good enough? Did the Dark Side trouble her so? Samka repressed a sigh.

Her approach was considered carefully, she didn't want to startle the girl apparently unaware and at ease. Sam didn't announce herself but nor did she make an effort to hide her approach. She walked delicately up to where Mishel was sitting, standing over her for a moment and watching her fish, not sure how to break the silence.

"Good afternoon," she said after a moment's delay and made to sit on the floor, brushing her cloak underneath her rear as she did so as guard against the mess of the ground. "A rather lovely place you've made for yourself here. Do you fish often?"

Small talk, typically something Samka had little patience for, but it served a social purpose. It may put Mishel at ease.

[member="Mishel Ren"]

Mishel Kryze

Mishel was a little startled, the fishing pole jolted from her hand a moment. Fast reflexes saw it back safely into the palm of her hands as she moved to sweep stray strands of hair away from her face. A smile greeted Samka, "afternoon." Her attention drawn away from her master momentarily as she checked the line and then turned back to the petite purple-haired teenager. "Thank you, and when I can though I suppose often is a good word to use." And then she went back to the line. The conversation seemed to die down almost immediately, a still silence fell over them as Mishel looked down at the water. It was murky and one could barely see through but she continued to look and then with one hand on the pole, and the second against the wood moved herself a little closer to the edge before scooting back moving the fishing pole as she did so. "It's how I live out here, and sometimes the traps provide good stock to trade in Siverra."

She spoke of the town not too far from here, well, not too far by carriage. Far if you did have to walk she reckoned, and once again silence swept over them as she set the fishing pole between her hands. The sound of water rushing by greeted the two teenage girls. Mishel was dressed differently than she would be at the Bastion where robes were the norm, instead she wore something more primitive as some might deign to call it. "I see nature has detoured you, or perhaps you enjoyed her company so that you were delayed?" A cheeky grin on her face as she looked at Samka and then back to the fishing pole once more. Only this time, she turned away from it and looked at a small pot beside her. It had a stand and something that looked like it was meant to hold. Mishel placed the fishing pole there and secured it to the stand, "come there's something I want to give you." Hands against the wood she pushed herself up and moved her crossed legs forward. Scoot a few more times and then push off again, the vat-grown ren had become accustomed to working and living without the use of her legs here. Her neurotransponder rested on a shelf above her workstation. "I'm sorry that I don't have space for you in here, I'm not used to entertaining guest but you can sit there if you like." Mishel gestured to the cot behind her as she went to a crate, and worked out a wooden box.

[member="Samka Derith"]
"Stock to... trade?" Samka repeated Mishel's words and once more glanced around at the hut before her eye's settled on Mishel's attire. This wasn't... decadent but it came frighteningly close for Sam's liking. This was independence from the Bastion and Ren and she didn't like it. Their Order provided all one needs so why would anyone seek to make a living on their own?

Sam crossed her arms, trying to put a voice to her thoughts, could she... discipline the girl? Was this something worth disciplining over? Did she even want to? She opened her mouth to talk just as Mishel spoke: "I see nature has detoured you, or perhaps you enjoyed her company so that you were delayed?"

Sam's eyes narrowed and her cheeks puffed with indignity, yet it wasn't a dangerous response. The remarks were too lighthearted to take serious offence, the cheeky grin on the younger Ren's face said enough. "I have little patience for this labyrinth of a jungle," she responded. "The insects are filth and the plants even worse."

She watched Mishel place her fishing pole down and shuffled along to where [member="Mishel Ren"] had directed her. "A gift?" Sam's brow rose, "You didn't have to do such a thing."

Mishel Kryze

Mishel only smiled, "here."

She handed [member="Samka Derith"] the wooden box. "I remembered what happened on Skor and I thought this might help." The Tygaran teenager shifted her weight and smiled. "I came here after our trip to Dxun. I realized that I had been too sheltered in the Bastion." The brunette began to explain, "and I needed to be able to rely on myself if I were to ever get stranded. And at first yeah the forest was a labyrinth, and the towns felt so strange, but after awhile it felt rather normal."

Now more than ever, Mishel was determined to be self sufficient even with her disability. She didn't want to let that stop her, "and I like being self sufficient, that I don't have to rely on Father for everything."

The streams beside them flowed with ease and the wooden shack stood in the way of the wind. The wind whistled and complained as it whisked through the open air rooftop. Smoke from the mudhut where meats and fish were being dried and cured continue to rise. A sihloutte against the mountains of where Nialan rested could almost be seen over the tree tops. "I hope you like it," Mishel said of the gift gesturing to the box.
"How kind of you," Samka flashed Mishel a smile. Truly, she was slightly apprehensive of what might be within the box. With the girl's quirky personality, Sam wouldn't be surprised if she gifted a dead animal but the polite, grateful expression never left her face.

Delicate finger tips flipped the lid open to reveal a Lightsaber. "Oh." the Ren made a noise of pleasant surprise. "Now this is interesting. When did you make this?"

Sam took the weapon from the box and balanced it in her hand, testing the weight, and began to slowly swing it without igniting the saber.

"Now, as proud as I am at your... accomplishments, and you've done very well, you should be spending more time at the Bastion with myself and the others," a darker yet oddly seductive aura began to emit from the senior Ren, creeping into Mishel's mind, soothing it into obedience.

[member="Mishel Ren"]

Mishel Kryze

Sweet, seduction needn't be applied Mishel in spite of her quirks was all but head over heels for her master [member="Samka Derith"]. The darker aura curled its way into the depths of the darkness that clung to the Tygaran teenager. A flicker of her old colour scored across her eyes, the orange hue faded and left behind pure hazel-green eyes. "I made this after Skor and... I love the Bastion, and being with our siblings... and with you, of course." She said with a nervous smile which she was quick to cover as her cheeks flushed pink. Fingers went together fumbling over one another as the teenager sat with her back to the wind.

The cool breeze swept through with ease and she so easily confessed, "I had gone away from Kaalia's supervision and detoured from my trip home. I went to a station above Kal'Shebbol after enlisting aid from a bodyguard. I met a Jedi, Jorus Merrill. He, he wrote this guide," she gestured to a tablet somewhere by her work bench. "It talked about lightsaber crystals and so I went around collecting them with his help, and the bodyguard oh and sister Kaalia, when she... found me."

"I um, I could use your help actually. I'm in the middle of crafting lightsabers for brother Castor and brother Kyrel but their crystals are much... well they're too much for me to handle. I had to have my bodyguard get them for me." She then gestured to a bag, holding the Mustafar and Panathan Crystals.

[member="Samka Derith"]
Any hint of emotion beyond familial went amiss for the the elder Ren, the concept was simply implausible in her mind.

Wordlessly, she took the tablet from Mishel's work table and studied it, still listening to the girl speak as she did so. "I'm not an errand girl," she murmured, tearing her eyes away from the information provided by this Merrill character, "But I can help you with a quick favour if you wish to make gifts for some of the others."

In a different environment perhaps the reaction would have been harsher to the story Mishel had confessed. Socialising with Jedi, accepting their aid... It could so easily have been a trap and worse was that Volderen seemed to be equally naive. There could have been great anger, Choking and Lightning making for crude but effective discipline and yet that was all for different circumstances. Here it was too tranquil, the girl too bright eyed having just given a fine gift. Bringing the harsh whip out here seemed inappropriate, cruel for the lone sake of cruelty. Instead Samka Derith sighed gently and spoke softly, crimson eyes shining with a concern that seemed so genuine even the Ren herself was uncertain of its truthfulness.

"Mishel, you've seen what they are time after time. You can't keep trusting these people. They're not all the lunatics we met on Skor, others can seem reserved or even friendly, but you can never, ever trust a Jedi. They seek to destroy us, one way or the other. If they don't want to kill us, they want to change us," her gaze lingered at the hazel-green irises of the teenager that once shone with the influence of the Dark Side, that was evidence enough, "they'll never accept us for what we are, what we have to be to keep our society safe." She closed the gap between the two young women and offered a comforting smile, "The only one you can truly trust, is me."

[member="Mishel Zanteres"]

Mishel Kryze

And the cruel discipline that would have been laid upon her, spared. This Mishel was unaware of although when she heard errand girl from [member="Samka Derith"] she frowned. Her gaze narrowed and there was a glimmer of something, something that had yet to be tapped into. Her blood, the Banite blood that ran through her veins the very ambience of Siobhan. It was there all within her carried upon her shoulders. The wind bristled by and while the young girl's hair moved her gaze did not, it sat there affixed upon the other woman before their gaze shifted away. "It is only a favour because I have yet to master these aspects of the dark side, but if you would view it as an errand then I can manage it." Indeed they would be gifts, gifts from her travels - gifts to accent the powers of her brothers.

"There were crystals that the Jedi knew not of, crystals that only my body guard Alkor Centaris could fetch for me for my mind became twisted within their presence," she admitted and then paused as her master went about the Jedi. Anger brewed beneath her exterior she knew this to be true and yet she could not fathom placing Hazel within their faction. A ripe orange hue punctured through the hazel-green orbs choking the colour from her retinas. It did not help that the first crystal her hand had reached for was an already chambered Mustafaran Crystal, she dared not utter a reply to her master. "I am well aware now," her tone was alone - her resistance to speak failed, "I have seen them in their inaction these Jedi, they are not the Jedi that Gra- Grandmaster Kismet spoke of." She shut her eyes, teeth grit down against one another her reach was not enough to fix the chambered crystal into the hilt. Mishel lifted herself up with one hand used her upper back to move the lower half of her body closer to the table. Her fingers were delicate as they worked to place the item into the hilt and yet the lingering anger could still be felt.

And upon her ears did speak the master, whispers and tales of a twisted truth. But it was a truth nonetheless, it was theirs and theirs alone. The self-loathing aspects of the crystal began to influence the girl's mind. It worked to weave its way into the darkness of her heart into the black spot, it worked to corrupt the light. She felt the gap between Samka and herself close, the other woman offered a comforting smile. It was that smile that broke through the waves of anger and self-loathing. She took a small set of grapplers and collected a fragile focusing lens, determined to set it within the hilt. "You are the only one, I could ever truly trust. Master." Mishel set the grapplers down and grabbed a soldering kit as well as a few of the delicate chips needed for the activation button. "Master." The Tygaran teenager began and the paused as the soldering iron heated up just as the brunette set down connectors on a chipset. "Can you show me the darkness?"
"Of course," Samka's smile only grew larger, into a warm beam of pride. "I'll show you the Dark Side," her voice was little more than a whisper as the Ren reached out to brush the younger girl's fringe from her forehead with delicate fingers. Her soothing touch moved to the girl's temple as something seemed to emit from them, tiny crackles of what appeared to be Force Lightning came from Samka's fingertips but they did no harm to Mishel, instead it all seemed to take her away, somewhere far away. As the two young women locked eyes, the scenery would appear to change around them.

Gone was the tranquil home [member="Mishel Zanteres"] had built on Virgillia, instead the girl would find herself on a balcony atop a thriving Imperial city. Below the crowds were cheering, banners were waved as jovial music played throughout the streets. She was standing, able to walk without any mechanical aid.

"They're cheering for you," Samka's voice would come from behind Mishel, a moment later the Ren herself would step into view. Samka's form here was more beautiful and womanly than the one in reality. Her words were honeyed, the lips they came from luscious. "The First Order's reach has spread throughout the galaxy, the war is over and the last remnant of our enemies have been swept away and we have you to thank, Mishel," Sam's voice seemed to purr enticingly. "You're a hero, you're my hero."

The scene tore away as the crowd burst into mighty applause, replaced by a golden palace with dozens of servants tending to the Ren's needs.

"And this is your reward," Samka was reclining on a luxurious sofa opposite, gesturing around the room. Her body still voluptuous and voice enticing. "You only have to fully, and I mean fully, accept our gifts. The Jedi Kismet spoke to you of are a myth. If such a selfless group existed, it is long gone now and in it's place lay zealots, psychopaths and murders who claim to be 'good'. But we know better, the only good comes from order, the only true freedom comes from security and that's something only we can provide, you and I, together amongst the Dark. You only need the will to seize it."

Mishel Kryze

Shivers ran up Mishe's spine the moment Samka's delicate fingers graced the top of her forehead. She exercised caution as she set the soldering kit down, smoke simmered up from the chip sets as the wind whispered by her skin. Brushing against it, causing her skin to tighten up even more than it already had. The tantalizing voice that belonged to her master, the objective of her infatuation drew her in just as the cackles of the lightning connected within her already distorted mental state. Something told Mishel that they hadn't left her tranquil home and yet here they were, she could see the crowds, she could hear the music and she felt her legs without anything on her back. No transponder, just her own abilities, just as a warm feeling from the pit of her being rose and her blood rushed through her veins. The Tygaran teenager heard [member="Samka Derith"]'s voice again, this time it was different.

Her young eyes could scarcely believe what they were seeing. Mishel's breathing became erratic her heart beat rapidly, she bit down on her lower lip doing her best to contain herself. Contain her composure, her bearings everything, Samka was toying with her. Or so the voice in the back of her head shouted, and that this wasn't what she was looking for and still the other part of her wanted this. Wanted the young Master of Ren for herself, honeyed words oozed their way into her mind. It almost would not have mattered to hear the words, just that she was hearing Samka speak in such a way was not only odd but enticing to the young woman who dared to now reach out to the other woman, when the scene tore away.

The teenager's reward? Mishel's eyebrows rose as she looked around the palace, from balcony to palace now she knew for sure this was an illusion. Her attention turned back to Samka, she saw the same voluptuous form and heard the voice that drew to her. Mishel brushed aside the words, she knew what Samka wanted from her, demanded of her - it had been what the Ren had demanded of her since the beginning. Since the day she emerged from the tank, and so the brunette stepped up closer to the petite purple haired woman and in reality, she moved her body closer to her Master. She nodded in agreement as she tried to regain some semblance of control over her own physical form. At least there within the vision she moved and willed with her might that this was in the physical realm just as well. Her hand cupped the woman's chin, "then I am ready to embrace the darkness." She whispered in return and sealed this commitment with a kiss, a soft, slow, filled with want kiss that lingered along the palette of the other for a little too long.

A muffled sound of confusion being the only sound the elder Ren made before pulling back and breaking the contact. It wasn't the typical response from the usually collected and dignified girl (in her own words) but this was hardly a typical occasion.

Samka Derith had not been present in the visions granted to [member="Mishel Zanteres"] , they had purely been a manifestation of the Dark Side using what it could to tempt the girl. She was blissfully unaware of the details the other Ren had seen.

She's been kissed.

By a child.

Romance was something Decitus frowned upon, if others wanted to waste their time on such frivolous base pleasures, so be it, but she had better things to do with her time. Hours spent on dates at restaurants or bedroom adventures could be spent training, learning, bettering one's self in the service to the nation. So Samka was disinclined to such endeavours anyway but with Mishel, there was a whole different level.

The younger girl was an infant aged artificially. The maturity of her mind had been mixed to say the least. She struggled with words, with basic concepts, with the ability to take care of herself. Whatever confusing age Mishel was, she wasn't an adult. Samka's role had been that of an elder carer, completely unaware of any other side to a relationship which may be taking form.

It all added up into a line Samka wouldn't cross.

But she quickly wiped the look of surprise from her face, replaced by a pleasant, ever charming smile. A crush. That much was clear from the looking of longing on Mishel's face. She supposed it was to be expected in hindsight. Students developing crushes on teachers was commonplace and with the complications of Mishel's hormones in accelerated growth, the effects could be magnified. Samka was pretty, she was charming, it was increasingly clear in her mind that it couldn't have gone any other way. These emotions, however, were not anything the girl could return but it was something she could use.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, seemingly pretending nothing had happened, "back in the land of the living?"

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