Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Wounded Animal (Open to friends)

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Here is your legacy, Preliat.
Nothing.

The thought crossed his mind, as his eyes gazed over the homestead in which he resided. He did not live here. Living would imply that he felt alive and that he wanted to be here. No- he did not want to be here anymore. He did not want to be in this galaxy anymore, and it showed. He had not slept since the end of the return of those from the Nether. But those most dearest, his daughter and his wife, the one light in the harrowing darkness of his light, both were taken from him. He envied those who went to the Nether and returned. Because they received something. But all Preliat had to show for the disaster, was the loss of his love and his light. To most, the galaxy was a collection of planets, stars, dust, and whatever cosmic entity that could be placed into that pool.

But Preliat's galaxy was Yasha and Aditya Mantis. Those mattered more to him than anything. And they were gone. And they weren't coming back. Did he deserve it? He began to think of all the horrible things he did, sitting on his porch, on his homestead, staring at the three graves dug nearby. Two were empty, physically at least. Until they turned up again, he had etched a tombstone of their deaths. However, a third, lay, the ground undisturbed and the date unmarked- except for the birth. He stared at it, the eventuality slowly creeping up to him. He stood, slowly, and walked towards his own grave. He stood at the foot, where his body would end. And he stared at the tombstone, his heart weighing heavily, and his eyes struggling not to glance at the graves to his left.

He found it harder to take that they were empty, and that they were gone. If he could see them- he could let go. Let them be at peace in his mind. But Preliat never knew himself to be at peace- not since he was a young man, faced with the horrors of the Dark Harvest. Faced with the encroaching Sith Empire- which he helped destroy. But by helping destroy it, he helped create yet another entity of darkness and evil, that stormed across the galaxy. It was still in power. And people were still afraid. But Preliat, long ago, had forgot what it was like to fear a person. He did not fear a person wielding a lightsaber or the force, or any of what the force could do to him. He feared the ideas behind it. He feared the reasons and the entities, not the people. He feared them because they were infinitely more powerful, and while he could hack every Sith apart, he could not destroy the idea of them. Could not destroy the simple hubris of every person with the force in the galaxy.

And he feared the most- for those he loved. Yasha and Aditya became all he thought of and fought for. Everything he did, was try to make their home less susceptible to the violence and violence that he had seen, committed, and feared. But he had failed. For in an instant- Akala took them. She took them and they were never coming back, from the looks of it. So Preliat sat, on his porch, unarmored, unarmed, a cigarette hanging from his scarred lip. His dark brown eyes moved from the tombstones, and then over to the endless, rolling fields of his homestead.


He felt alone. And he didn't mind it anymore. The grass swayed and the wind rolled through his hair, as he watched the waves of wheat roll with the wind. He closed his eyes, and laid back on his porch. He was quiet and solitary, but not at peace. For now, he was at the eye of the storm, the storm of rage, hatred, loss and sorrow. Others he knew filled their hearts and minds with things to keep their sorrows away. Strider filled it with women. Aditya filled it with machinery. Triam filled it with money. Ashin filled it with some new toy or jewel.


He filled it with hope. He did, at least. Now- now he was lost in his own world, of his machination, of his own foolishness and bloodlust. He had become an animal somewhere along the line, known as a predator rather than a person. He knew how, there was no questioning that aspect. It was simply a matter of what he had done. He had done it all willingly. By his own volition. And he realized only when it was all far too late-


It didn't matter.​
 

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