Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Where The Strands Lead

The Crystal Gardens
Teth
A change had come over the girl since her venture to Teth.

Reuniting with Jyn, Sargon, the Je'daii, her Father, it had all had the most positive impact on her. The collar she had feared and loathed was gone, yielding crystals with which to recreate the lightsabers she had lost what felt like an eternity ago; the threat of Aellin lingered over her no longer.

And the Force was oncemore her ally.

Throughout her youth it had spoken to her, whispered its teachings into her very core. It had been her greatest teacher, mentor, guide, and it had led her through countless mental endeavors as she submerged herself within its majesty.

Today was no different. Eyes closed, body set in meditation, she allowed it to wash over her. The Universe Sargon had placed within her minds eye came to light, before the Force pulled her inward. The very threads of time became her path, one of uncertainty and potential peril.

For once this was not her own doing, while she flow walked freely these days, today she had fully intended on simply meditating. The Force, it seemed, had other plans. It pulled her along a set path, one with innumerable strands at its side. That was the problem with the future, it held countless possibilities. Yet for whatever reason she was being shown this strand in lieu of the rest.

All around her minds eye a bright world of life and prosperity grew. White buildings towered overhead, yet somehow remained unimposing, and the streets were filled with individuals ready for the day ahead. There was little in the way of chaos, everyone seemed happy to wander the path they were on.

Everyone, that was, save one.

For whatever reason, the Force honed in on this being. White hair was the first thing Asha noticed, and the somewhat tanned skin that spoke of an Echani. She could have been wrong, it could easily have been an Arkanian or an Umbaran who had spent too long away from their shadowy world, but there was a gut feeling she could not shake.

Why do you show me such things?

No answer, the Force never answered in ways that made sense. Instead it made a point of signalling the building that this unknown woman was entering. A restaurant.

Making a mental note of the place's name, she exhaled a small breath.

Where is this?

The image slowly zoomed out, until the Galaxy itself came into her view. She thanked Sargon for the lessons she'd acquired, and made yet another mental note of the world which was humming and pulsing with light.

Finally the image removed itself entirely, until Asha opened her eyes and stared over the Gardens before her. Crystals sang around her, but for once she had little time to sit and listen. She needed to write down what she had learned, before it eluded her.

She needed to head to Lianna.

Id7Qdu4.png
Portharton
Lianna
It had been quite some time since Asha stepped foot on a world as established as this. To say it was urban was an understatement, the planet was ecumenopolis in every sense of the word. Beautiful white buildings lined perfectly placed roads, some towered through the clouds and others were smaller. None seemed out of place.

It was exactly as she had seen during her walk.

Her movements were not borne from knowledge, but an innate sensation... It was as though she was on autopilot, no longer in control of her body. She did not know where to find the restaurant, only that her feet would lead her there. The Force worked in mysterious ways, most of which she did not understand. She simply accepted and obeyed.

It was tenfold the Master Aellin had been.

Glancing through the crowd of individuals, she tried to figure out whether they were close or not. None of the signs seemed familiar, yet she felt close regardless. A slight murmuring through the Force which tugged her on with eager anticipation.

I still do not understand what you are asking of me...

But she had a feeling she would when the time came.
 
The hustle and bustle of life was greeted by apathetic eyes of cold molten steel as Ryiah allowed her feet to carry her through streets that held no meaning to her towards a destination that she did not yet know on any level: the conscious or the subconscious. Having landed on the first planet that the random hyperspace jump she had taken from Nar Shaddaa had brought her near to, she had spent what felt like hours sat in the cockpit of the run down ship - she had no idea as to make nor name and so referred to it as only ship - simply staring ahead, apprehension stealing the energy to move from her. For so long, she had felt the heavy weight of chains around her neck - of course, no physical shackles had ever been worn, she would have been of little use to her Masters is anything had served to obstruct her allure - and now that she was without, she was lost. Numerous times the fires of hope had tried to light within her breast as she tried to will her frozen body to move, yet, the broken whisper within her mind had served as the gust that extinguished those flames.

That voice, that insidious whisper. Even thinking of it brought a spark of fear to bland eyes and caused a shiver to run down her spine. Ryiah new well what that whisper was, it was the voice that had haunted her evenings when she had been curled up under tattered blankets, body sour and mind retreating to escape from her reality. It was her demon, her curse. But, then, it could be ignored. Shunted to the side by delving ever deeper into apathy. Yes since her emotions had awakened, since she had dared to dream of freedom, the demon had only grown stronger, and now its hissing voice brought with it frozen oceans that plucked at the edges of her frayed sanity.

Blinking back into focus, realising that she had been stood still within the flow of life ('Why do they get to be innocent?' The voice hissed. 'They should hurt as we did.') and was garnering more than one look of anger as she served to disrupt the mundane lives of those that passed, along with more than one look of worry or pity. Shaking her head minutely, long tresses of white brushing the middle of her back, Ryiah forced her body to move, the cold fear that had gripped her heart withering away back into empty stoicism.

Picking a door at random, Ryiah stepped over the threshold and was brought to a stop. The noise of dozens of chattering voice assaulted her ears as the ambient warmth of the restaurant filled her body. This was a sight she had never seen but had heard of and the simplistic beauty of it, the beauty of life being lived free and without the bonds of slavery, mundane and simple and liberated, caught her off guard for a moment. However, her Masters had taught her well, and her lapse of focus only minuets earlier had brought the less back to the forefront of her mind. She must always be alert or she would suffer The Pit. Focused, ever analysing else she be deprived of light and sound and touch and food and water. Yes she would still have her shattered moonlit dusk to revel in, but the mind cannot sustain the body and so she had learnt and so now instinct demanded she preform.

Grey, emotionless eyes flickered from table to table, no longer seeing the beauty of a free life, but the wealth of a target as the former slave's lithe form prowled forwards with seductress born intent. Whispered words and temptation soon lead to Ryiah being guided to a table, but, as she sat and stared out at the room, at the empty chair opposite her and the menu that held many words that she could not even hope to read, her lessons stunted, the lessons that had been ingrained fell apart as wave of loneliness broke atop her broken mind and reminded her of her isolation.

And so she sat, in a corner of a restaurant, cold eyes glaring at the life she could not live, isolated despite the sounds of living that flowed around her. And, yet, a small spark of hope burnt within her fractured heart, fueled by some sense of oncoming change.



[member="Asha Hex"]
 
It hit her all at once, like a tidal wave washing over her very soul. It yanked her back when she took a step too far, and growled within her mind, protective yet commanding all the same.

What do you see? it seemed to ask, What do you feel?

And the fact of the matter was that Asha did not know. She had never experienced this before, the Force had never pushed her in any one direction. It had been a slow and patient mentor, it had allowed her to forge her own path, make her own mistakes, decide her own cause. Why was it suddenly so obsessed with directing?

Glancing to each side of the street where she had been urged to stop, the young girl chewed the inside of her mouth. Was she going crazy? Had she lost her mind? She had come all this way on the urging of some mental factor that she did not know the origins of. What if it was not the Force at all? What if this was all a trap?

Aellin?

But there was no response, just a sense of serenity which washed over her and soothed the aches of her uncertain body.

Finally she saw it. Just a few storefronts over. The restaurant from the visions, as clear as day. Almost as though its dimly illuminated sign shone to herald her closer.

No more doubting. The Force had proven itself to her over and over and over again, to doubt it now would be nothing short of insulting. Instead she made for the building, her steps somewhat slow and deliberate as she gave herself time to think, to consider. She had already seen the woman she had come here for, but why? What was it she was supposed to do?

The unseen force did not have anything more to add. When Asha entered the establishment she glanced around the entirety of the room from corner to corner, before a chill ran down her spine and she stood motionless in awe.

She's here... She's actually...

"Table for one?"

Blinking, Asha turned her attention to the hostess and gently shook her head. "I'm meeting someone here, they arrived ahead of me."

The hostess glanced her up and down for a moment, pursing her lips in disbelief, before nodding. "Right, and do you see them here?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

With that, she walked past the gawping woman and toward the lonely corner which seated just one patron. As she approached her movements slowed considerably, until she was stood behind the chair just across from the white haired woman of her vision.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

Please... Tell me you have a purpose here... Tell me what I am doing here...

But again there remained only silence within her head.

[member="Ryiah Tenriem"]
 
The soft voice was what roused her from the torturous depths of her mind, parting the clouds of self-inflicted torment and allowing the shattered moon beneath to breathe. And, yet, Ryiah did not move from her position, head now bowed forward under the weight and pressure of the slowly dwindling flames of hope, the reality that despite her wishes otherwise, the Galaxy had no use for something so broken as her. After all, past clients would not have chosen to coddle and desire a broken shell, so why would the Galaxy, in all its metaphorical glory, be any different, any more unique? In the end, no one cared for the shattered, consumed by petty and not-so petty strife alike within their own lives.

And, yet, the cooling embers of hope that still struggled to continue to sputter beneath the freezing waters of her silver eyes compelled her to fantasise, to image a different life. A life where that voice had addressed her and not solely within the realms of fantasy. That someone - a lover, a friend, a trusted ally or even member of family - had come to meet her. That someone respected the her desires, was asking if they me allowed, if they may be permitted, to be seated with her.

Letting her eyes flutter shut, Ryiah could almost see it. Could almost hear it, touch it even. And yet, as her demon so promptly whispered, she dreamt of a life that did not exist within the Galaxy and that lived solely within her mind.

A shuddering sigh was torn from sadly smiling lips as Ryiah's eyes fluttered open to stare at the rough grain of the table before her. For a moment, indecision ruled her mind, a battle waged privately on what path to follow, but, eventually, the masochistic argument won. Why not raise her eyes, despite her fear of falling back into that cold existence beneath the clouds of torment where the moon that was her soul continued to fracture? Why not gaze at what she could not have? Why not see what face and form belonged to such a kind voice, torment herself with the pain of not having and yet make it so that when she closed her eyes to dream later that night, she would have a solid image to wrap her mind around.

Molten silver, shaded with depression, would raise, pause and blink in shock and confusion as they met soft emerald. Blinking again, disbelieving that that wild fantasy she had found her fleeting pleasure in before her cures reminded her of her place, Ryiah fell back upon old habits after wiping the shock and desperation for this to be real and not a falsification meant to torment from her face as quickly as she could. Immediately, her eyes flickered across her fellow young female's form, maybe only a year younger than Ryiah, reading what she could. Nervousness, a desire of some sort of answer from Ryiah pertaining to something more than her question and, yet, a quite and solid confidence pulling her shoulders back in a sense of determination.

A small part of Ryiah, beaten down by her Masters, noted that the young woman wasn't unattractive by any means and, within her trained mind, that meant to her that her following words and actions would not be unpleasant.

Along her lips, a small, seductive smirk formed naturally - not so naturally as the memories of the pain of starvation pulled at her stomach, as Ryiah shitted to position herself in a way that would display herself to the woman as she leant forwards. She was no longer their tool, yes, but the ingrained teaching of over a decade did not fade within a week or two. Besides, this was the only weapon Ryiah had and so she would welcome it.

"Of course." Ryiah insured that a soft purr was added to her lilting voice, all the more attractive in her experience. "Anything for one of your beauty, luv." The familiar words weighed heavily on her lips and even pulled her seductive smirk down into something a little less alluring and a little more sad, not that Ryiah knew.


[member="Asha Hex"]
 
For a moment as she stood there, Asha was not certain that the woman had heard her at all. Head remained down turned, eyes downcast, shoulders somewhat hunched and betraying a powerless state of mind, it was actually quite saddening to see. She displayed everything that Asha had spent the past year or so trying to scrub from her person. From her soul. She had once told [member='Connor Harrison'] that someone who had been broken was easy to spot, especially to fellow broken beings. This was a prime example of such.

It was with deliberate patience that she remained standing where she was, and did not flee into the busy streets beyond the door. No longer pushed by the Force, instead she stood of her own free will, a desire to assist this lost soul set within her mind.

Of course you had a purpose... Of course you would bring me the broken, to set upon a new path.

Any path save one of self loathing and fear.

When silver eyes lifted and slowly settled upon her face, Asha could see the faraway look swiftly replaced with surprise. Uncertainty. As though there had been no expectation that someone was actually stood there... Had she thought Asha's words were a figment of her imagination?

You know how that is, Asha... How frequently did you believe you heard your Father's voice while sat within that Graveyard?

More than she could count.

Something in the woman changed, and it broke Asha's heart to recognize it. A wall was put up, between the real woman and the one she wished to show the world. A front. Gone was the vulnerable young lady, who had been amazed to find another looked her way, and in its place was a knee-jerk response.

But she is so young... Do not tell me that her past involves such...

It was enough to push her toward tears, though she refrained.

"Please..." Asha said, as softly and quietly as she might so as not to embarrass the woman, "I'm not trying to get anything out of you."

She hesitated for a second, before taking the seat she had asked to utilize and dropping her gaze idly over the menu. Whoever this woman was had yet to order, so she nodded to the menu.

"Let me buy you lunch, and then perhaps we can talk? I insist."

[member="Ryiah Tenriem"]
 
Ryiah knew that she possessed a sharp mind, an intelligent mind. The skill at which she had been able to memorise and anticipate the movements of the prey of her Masters that they had set her upon proved that to her, as did the speed at which she had picked up the languages she spoke. Of course, her Masters had not taught her for her sake, of course not, for why would they choose to waist resources on they toy, their precious tool that they held sway over. Anything she had been taught, and subsequently quickly absorbed, had been for the purpose of using it to benefit her Masters. But, that fact was the flaw limiting her intellect: her education was stunted and malformed. Being taught only what he Masters thought she would need to know had left many gaps in her knowledge, for example, she could barely read and write in basic, let along be considered fully literate and she was even worse in any other language.

This stunting of her mind, this malnourished of the desire to learn that fought to prowl within her as if it were a decaying and decrepit beast, meant that when confronted with a sudden, surprising situation, Ryiah would often fall back upon what she knew, as she had already done so numerous times since entering the restaurant, let along waking to a new day.

A surprising situation was a good was to describe how Ryiah perceived the woman's words. Someone not attempting to take advantage of an offer given unless they suspected a trap was unforeseen for the former slave. Never before had she encountered such a situation and, as such, as her mind scrambled through her memories, seeking experience to guide her next actions and finding nothing, an unbidden gulp pulled at her throat as the Echani began to subconciously chew at her lip and flicker her eyes from side to side, trying to find an escape - even as she fought to dampen these reactions.

Never show fear. Never show vulnerability. Never show weakness. These words had been branded upon her skin (thought not literally, reminded the whisper, for, after all, how much worth were damaged goods to the Masters), her mind, her thoughts as early back as she could remember. For if she did for even a second, the Masters would see it and they would pounce, tearing away at another layer of sanity and forcing her mind and emotions to dull themselves all the more, to become more numb and more well hidden. Even when her mind had turned dormant, freezing her emotions, it had not been enough to shake away the branded lessons, such was the intensity of the burns left behind my the mental mantra.

Scrambling for purchase, seeking to find something to support herself on and fighting to beat back the reactions of fear, Ryiah was left frozen in her seat, silver locked in an unrelenting stare upon the woman opposite. Slowly, shakily, Ryiah nodded, nothing more, as another subconscious gulp of fear occurred.

"W-What..." She stopped, tongue darting out to lick at dry lips. When she spoke again, the mask had begun to come down once more, the cynical cold retaking her, frozen waters rushing through her body. "What do you want?" Even as her voice and countenance began to ice over, her words still managed to come out as barely above a strangled whisper.


[member="Asha Hex"]
 
The faraway look in this strangers eyes told all she needed to know; the way that she simply stared through the menu as if it was written in the ancient Sith tongue, and not Basic, the frustration which lay behind her gaze... She had not expected an unlearned individual to reside on a world such as Lianna, what could be argued to be the economical capital of the Galaxy.

What's to say that she is from here at all? You spent your whole life jumping from place to place, if not for Jericho teaching you to read and write it wouldn't be implausible for you to be illiterate too...

Exhaling slowly, she gave a very slight nod of the head and peered over the menu.

"Let's see..."

Her finger paused in its downward motion against the flimsiplast, settling just below a sampler. Perhaps that might be the best course of action, there would be meats, fish, vegetables, and Force knew what else, for the woman to try. Asha herself was not hungry, not one bit, being so hands on in the Force was tiring after all. Part of her wanted to retreat back to her ship and rest, but she couldn't.

When a waitress passed by she hailed the woman down and placed her order, alongside two glasses of blue milk. A classic, who didn't like blue milk? Jyn doesn't... But what does she know?

Only once the order was placed and they were alone again did Asha return her attention to the sheepish woman who seemed just as confused by her presence there as Asha was. She regarded her solemnly for a moment, before settling both hands flat on the table.

"I would like to make you an offer,"

She could feel it through the Force, the wasted potential that lingered beneath the surface of this stranger. The possibilities which could change her life for the better, should she wish to free herself from the chains Asha so clearly saw about her.

"I'm not going to pretend to know what you've been through, but I know the look in your eye, and we're alike you and I. On edge, lost, having only recently acquired freedom, no?"

A moments pause, incase the woman wished to interject and claim otherwise, before the young girl sighed and shook her head.

"I can help you, if you will let me. Come with me, and you can be reborn into the woman you wish to be. Take the control back for your life, as the Force wishes you to."

Because that is why I am here, is it not? To save another, as Jyn saved me, and as Jericho and Sargon saved her, and how my namesake saved him? And so on, and so forth... Please, correct me now if I am wrong and I will leave this woman in peace... But do not deny the horrors she has been through, I see them as clearly as Connor saw the collar around my neck.

"You have no reason to trust me, but I can give you cause if you ask."

[member="Ryiah Tenriem"]
 
Silent silver eyes stared at the woman opposite her with confusion as she began to peruse the menu. Had she not heard her words? Or was it that her words were not worth the woman's focus. (Of course not. Of course they were. She was useless, broken. All she had was anger, vengeance. Why was she sat here in peace and not making others hurt as she did? The voice continued its persistent hiss.) Thoughts continued to run through Ryiah's mind, questions not asked as he throat felt like it was being constricted the longer the heavy silence weighed upon her body. When the woman spoke again, it was almost a relief, almost as if Ryiah could breathe with ease once more, the pressure lifted from her chest as the ice finished it freezing path through her body, solidifying along her features.

"You say you offer freedom from my burdens? Rebirth?" the shakiness that had grasped her voice was gone, concealed tightly behind the mask that had settled upon her features, coldness dripping from her words. Her words, however, came out disjointed, staggered, as her jaw would twitch and form around words that would never be given form. "You say that you have suffered the bonds of slavery? Then you would know that everything must be made by yourself, never taken. You say that you will help, but when an offer is accepted, a debt is formed." The more she spoke, the colder her voice became, the more distrust coloured her words and the lower the volume she spoke at was.

As the waitress returned, laying the crockery and cutlery upon the table, Ryiah paused in her words, some urge within her chest telling her that no one else should be pulled into their talk. But, as soon as the pair were alone again, picked up from where she had left off. "This is no kindness, you ask me to sell myself again with a vague promise. I've heard them uttered before, seen the devastation wrought upon those foolish enough to create the debt." Her eyes grew distant as her rate of breathing began to increase, breaths being hissed out between every word. Her voice, at this point, was nothing more than a hiss, one that she had heard before but could not recognise in that moment. "I will not be like, I will be my own! I will make my own life! You will not 'offer' me anything!"

Ryiah's face was contorted in a mockery of its normal expression, rage furrowing her bows, bearing her teeth and flowing along every line of her face. In that moment, the woman would be able to see Ryiah's curse, the voice, the demon that prowled within her shattered mind. No longer was the malicious hiss solely within the Echani's head, now it danced within and wove itself around her words, clearly audible. Cold, molten silver eyes glared at the woman, and, surrounding the pupil, silver began to be tainted by crimson. Ryiah's hands hand long since curled into fists, but, now, her right twitched, wrapping itself around the hand of the knife that sat next in front of her.

The feeling of cold metal along her palm drew Ryiah's focus, anger fading from her face and crimson being submerged beneath silver once more. Surprise filled her gaze as she was greeted with the sight of her hand wrapped around the handle of the knife before realisation flared and a ragged breath was inhaled. Ryiah seemed frozen in place. Her eyes would suddenly free themselves, darting to stare intently at the woman opposite, not staring through her and seeing what Ryiah had been trained by her life to see, but, instead, examining instead.

Her form would seem to collapse in on itself as Ryiah's gaze locked with the woman's, a jerky exhale almost hiding the words that were spoken at the same time. What sat in place of the cold, jaded woman with white hair was now the remnant of a battered child just stepping into the cusp of adulthood, a lifetime of pain bruising her soul, one that was afraid of herself and had chosen to trust for the first time in a decade. Chosen to trust in the strange woman that saw her, that spoke of helping her grow into her she wanted to be and not what she had been directed to become.

"Help me."



[member="Asha Hex"]
 
What came next was not wholly unexpected.

Former slaves found it difficult to trust, they saw the worst in everyone they met, they expected a price for all they were given. Asha had been very much the same, she had seen Aellin's hand in absolutely everything. Any act of kindness, any sudden movement, everywhere she went the cloud of his paranoia lingered overhead.

Opening herself back up to the Bendu had helped, allowing the Force to resume its mentorship over her, and Jyn had placed the final pieces to the puzzle, and helped her to return to herself. Who she had been prior to Thule. Prior to the Graveyard. It wasn't perfect, but it was a great start. The collar was even gone, and there had been no reprimand from her darkened Master.

While the woman spilled her thoughts out into the air between them, the young Lorrdian did not say a word. When the cutlery came, and their drinks, she did not lift a hand, she merely nodded her thanks to the waitress, and when the woman across from her wrapped a hand around the handle of a knife she likewise did not rise to stop her.

Give her that power, let her know that the ball is in her park. To deprive her of such a thing would damage any attempts I'm making here to repair her.

Finally the woman crumpled into the child which lingered beneath, the little girl who had sought a reprise, who had dreamed of a better day, who had suffered, and been forced to numb herself to the world and its sick inhabitants.

Only then, only once the woman was finished, did Asha finally speak.

"I chose my words poorly," she began, looking away from the Echani for just a moment as she contemplated how best to continue, "I do not mean to tie you into an agreement, to form bonds around you once more, far from it. I bring to you an opportunity to escape your current state, to provide you with a space wherein you can rebuild your life, rebuild yourself, without pressure, without judgement."

Very slowly she extended a hand toward the woman, and waited patiently.

"I can show you, if you like, if you trust me, I can give you a way to reclaim the power they stole from you, how to use what happened to make you stronger, and I ask for nothing in return. You can walk away at any moment."

At some point the waitress returned to place the large spread of food, and two plates, before them. She left without a word, clearly skilled enough at her job to realize that interruptions would not be wise.

Gesturing with her free hand, she smiled, "I did not know what you liked, so I ordered a little of everything. Please, help yourself."

[member="Ryiah Tenriem"]
 

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