Private A Godless Endeavor

[Loske Treicolt]

For as much of a zealot as Cedric may have said he was, there was a realism that kept him grounded. A balance in his diction and views of the world that created a wholesome representation of an individual. "I wonder if there's a way to restore that planet." Loske thought aloud. "It would probably take a lot of time, and would it be worth it? Some incredible combination of Flow walking, art of the small, and...probably some sort of ancient incantation from Pomsty." The delusion was grand indeed. There were probably other things that requested that level of power in a higher priority than trying to restore her beau's childhood planet.

"Or maybe not the planet, but anything on that scale." She closed her eyes for a moment, that wet cold on her skin omnipresent. "That would be incredible."

The chill was a reminder of where they were "--Can you use The Force down here?" Were they down? Around? Wherever they were. Whichever direction. As if to answer her own question, and prove it was not rhetorical, she reached out to an extending branch and gave a flick to the air in front of her, which relayed forward to snap the twig a distance away.

So they could. But its impact was subdued.

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Placeholder 0128]

She spoke of planets being restored. Cedric did not reply immediately, his eyes shifting toward the ground as he entertained the thought. The golden age had resulted in dozens of dead worlds being restored to life, but resources then had been far more plentiful than they were now. Without the backing of the entire galaxy to strengthen their efforts, restoring Ession would be an astronomically expensive task: not to mention the fact that Ession was deep within Sith Empire space.



“There are methods,” Cedric admitted. “But we don’t have the resources. We’d need half the galaxy beneath our banner to restore a planet.” He sighed, “And then there the Sith. Ession is deep in their space. We’d have to fight to it - as much as I love my home world, I’m not going to spend lives trying to get it back.”



He paused as she asked her second question, then answered it herself. “I’m glad we can. There are places in the Netherworld where the Force doesn’t work at all.”



The cleaning in the fog was empty, save for a small rotten tree stump that jutted our of the cracked ground. A brilliant bird with feathers of gold that shimmered in the sun light greeted them with a caw.



“Ession will never live again.” An otherworldly voice thundered from every direction. Cedric squeezed Loske’s hand. “It is dust.”

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Her chest tightened when the omniscient voice thundered all around, and she felt herself step in closer to Cedric when he gave her an indication that he was also hearing it. The finality with which is spoke was as imposing as it's ubiquitous presence. The voice, in all its enigmatic thundering sounded familiar. Loske had heard it before, but only in a few sentences. Her brow furrowed, and she looked about expectantly, although nothing other than the flittering fowl revealed itself.

"We've heard this voice before.." she murmured, to herself but also audibly to P Placeholder 0128 . She closed her eyes, trying to trace it back in her memory, which was only partially reliable at best. Too many fractals in there.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"That we have." There was more than a bit of worry to the Jedi Master's tone. He'd only recently heard that voice again; it had been decades before that. The pieces began to click into place as Cedric glanced all around, the mists parting ever further to reveal glowing flora. The eagle stared up from its perch, its black eyes staring at the duo with a very human intelligence.

"Not what I would have picked." The voice spoke from all around. The eagle cocked its beak at Cedric. "This one isn't very regal boy. It'll be difficult to get the people to accept her."

Cedric blinked.

"...Father?"

"In a sense." The eagle turned its gaze upon Loske. "I am your progenitor, yes, but I shed myself of mortal titles long ago. The empyrean has a way of remolding the mind."


It paused, hopping on taloned feet toward the blonde. "You did well with the Falleen. She was one of the more cunning followers, she will be difficult to replace."

It blinked up at Loske, almost curiously. "You are Kiskla's spawn?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

So much for their mutual agreement to forgo meeting the parents. It seemed The Force, once again, had other plans.

She felt her corporeal self stiffen at the bird’s commentary, and any sort of metaphysical effect followed suite. Out of spite, she didn’t let go of Cedric’s hand.

What it said after it’s initial judgement was far more intriguing. P Placeholder 0128 ’s father was dead. Several rotations over. Yet he was taking the form of something within this...netherworld. A mind remoulded. The memories, evidently maintained.
The way he affixed himself to lineage, parental but not really, yet still held an opinion of influence was paradoxical and Loske’s lips drew to a thin line. Similar to the expression she’d worn when Cedric suggested propaganda on her behalf. In her mind, family went beyond mortality.
The bird engaged her, and she fixated on it as well, doing as much of an ethereal assessment as she could conduct under the circumstances. A follower. The Falleen that had tried to kill her was an instrument to the maestro in the netherworld, this was tricky to process. As was it’s genuine recognition of her lineage. How did everyone seem to know this in the Sith World? If she’d kept more company other than pilots and soldiers to date, maybe she’d have figured things out sooner.
Spawn. Such a cacophonous word.

“We share DNA.” Loske confirmed, maintaining contact with those beady, intelligent eyes. She’d have loved to say daughter in that moment, but it wasn’t wholly true and above else, Loske felt terrible seeing falsehoods.

Her mouth twitched into a bemused smirk. Appropriate that he manifested his form as an eagle. Sentimental fellow, apparently. The bird had given her a gateway for conversation. “You still have more followers outside this realm?”

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The Mephirium pondered the girl’s words. It saw things that others did not, heard the whispers spoken with private intent. It’s eyes were spread across the galaxy, and try as it might to pluck them out, the entity was forever cursed with omnipotence. It had seen the girl it’s child had chosen to take as his mate, and memories of mortality had bubbles to the front of its mind.



The moment the two of them passed into the Netherworld, it had come. Travel through the empyrean was an unreliable thing, but it was nearly instant for the hawk. This realm was as much a part of its body as it was the place it inhabited: moving across its many planes was a trivial matter.



“A genetic remnant,” the voice mused. “Your blood is suitable. Your progenitor is a harlot, but the Force flows strongly in her veins, as it does yours.” It continued, perfectly cold in its analysis. “Provide the boy with many heirs. It will secure your Imperium, and repay the debt your progenitor incurred in casting me out.” That coldness faded to a quiet bitterness. Cedric might have been able to ignore the past, but it couldn’t.



“I have followers in many places, most of them unwanted. They worship the Darth Mephirium, but that one is gone. I am only the Mephirium: their worship corrupts my name, and in turn corrupts my very nature. I needed that one dealt with before she ruined the Anari. Thank you.”



Cedric cut in. “I don’t understand,” his brow furrowed. “What do you mean you’re just Mephirium? Did you bring us here? Why haven’t you contacted me before this?”



The eagle only stared, curiosity brimming in its cold eyes.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

For someone who was usually so chatty, she found her speech blocked by frustration. Her teeth clicked shut, and she grimaced at the predestination Cedric’s father drawled. As much as she may have pf’aw’ed the Sith Lord from Coruscaunt off, she hadn’t forgotten what he’d said. The remarks and intentions from the Mephirium compounded that experience. There were consistencies in that thread, and as much disregard as Cedric had for the past and focus on the future, the suggestion she was just a vessel for retribution was... off putting to day the least. It seeded doubts she hadn’t before. She only took consolation in the slight inflection of resentment.

Before the Falleen ruined the Anari? Dropping the darth moniker? Was this a redemption story? It was appreciative of the Anari’s salvation, but still had to replace a follower. Now she was both annoyed and confused.

Loske withdrew her hands to herself, crossing her arms and tapping an impatient foot. Seems he’d gone to much effort to have them as visitors here, just in time to go quiet.

She added to the questions. Dead or alive, people loved to talk about themselves. “What do you want.”

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Placeholder 0128]

There was an indignant fury building in the Jedi's gut. It was a wholly out of character feeling for him, and the burning in his chest was something he was having trouble containing. He drew upon his teachings, repeating the Jedi mantra several times in his mind to calm himself. Seeing his father's spirit after so many years, knowing it could have contacted him, felt like a grand betrayal. Having that same figure talk down to the one person whom he'd made a genuine connection with only served to further stoke those fires: such were the dangers of attachment.

"You'll not speak to her like that again," Cedric's voice was cold, a threat veiled just behind his words.

The eagle jerked its head back and forth, as if laughing. "One asks what I want, the other threatens me. How interesting." The voice boomed all around them, shaking some of the loose rubble on the ground with each word. "I am beyond wants girl." It stood up a little straighter, as if washing its hands of such mortal concerns.

"But if we speak of desires, then I only wish to see the people of my predecessor restored. I am what you might call an echo. Darth Mephirium ceased to be long ago, killed by Cyril Grayson, and then the emperor killed Cyril. I am the remains; the Mephirium, a remnant of what once was. I wield great power, but memory is a muddied thing, and feelings are gifts left to mortals alone. I know what I might have wanted before, but I am incapable of wanting now."

Cedric just blinked at the eagle. It seemed intent on speaking to Loske.

"You might call me a god, but there are many like me. We are omnipotent with little limiting our power, but we live in apathy, caught between merging with the Force and mortality. These followers are useful to me, at times, but as I said, they worship Darth Mephirium. I am not he." The eagle paused, hopping along awkwardly until it was standing in front of the duo.

"The Anari are my children, in a sense. Creatures cast here when the barrier between worlds was shattered. I nurtured them, helped them grow, but now they live in your world, beyond my reach. It was my hope that my progeny," it dipped its beaked head at Cedric, "Would preserve them. My final act of benevolence, for at my heart, I was good." for all the monotone words the eagle spoke, there was a remnant of conviction to those words.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The defensive interjection after her question evoked a surprised but appreciative reaction. Especially considering his surprise at interaction with the manifestation of his father’s essence at such a perceivably random time. But was anything really random these days? Seemed inconceivable to believe in coincidence and accidental happenstances.

She was a little more surprised though, at the bird’s ability to manipulate the environment around them and she looked down at the quivering ground beneath her feet, suddenly gripped with a dire realization that they were pretty well at the whims of this maniacal creature.

The Meriphirium (apparently) gave P Placeholder 0128 the bare minimum of a response. And her request to get something more explanatory out of him was equally dismissive - claiming to be beyond the basic instinct of wanting. He did tone down the crudeness of his diction in her direction though, so apparently he had some level of respect for the requests of his kin.

For everything it explained, it was effectively attaching its intentions as gift wrapping to the Anari’s birth they’d witnessed before. Which was still totally nuts to Loske, since apparently it needed some of her Force essence to be delivered - though, he chastised the follower that had conducted the ceremony. Maybe the intentions were indeed moral.

Seemed particularly extravagant, but then again, they’d just witnessed life exist where it hadn’t, and now they were in a world of death. There weren’t enough adjectives to describe the level of displacement Loske was feeling. The remnants of the voxyn probably didn’t help, either.

“Sounds like a want.” She mused quietly, perhaps a little audaciously at challenging the original statement of being beyond such mortal blessings of longing. Wanting to leave another impression to speak to Meriphirium’s former virtue.

So the Anari were supposed to leave the tomb with them. Which suggested the golden creature was intent on letting them return back to their realm, and out of this one. She leap-frogged from Cedric’s earlier question, on why he hadn’t reached out to Cedric earlier. You know, son and all.

“Why now? Why are you making a final act now?”

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric was about to ask the same question. The anger he'd felt in his gut at his father's treatment of Loske faded, replaced with the powerless void that was the lack of a paternal figure. Mephirum had abandoned him to fight his war, and had never returned. He'd spoken with the entity a few times since, though only in his earliest youth. He'd assumed his progenitor had become one with the Force.

Yet here he was.

"I cannot affect the material world in most places. You needed to be near a place of power, which has only happened recently," a pause. "Also, I forgot your existence." The eagle turned toward Cedric. "Not because I wished to. That is my nature. I am neither Jedi or Sith, living nor dead, I am the one in between. Sentience is a temporary and fleeting state for me. Now is one of those times, and you happened to be near the portal."

Another pause.

"I instructed the woman to come to Chandrila. I divined your presence here in a vision, months ago. She prepared, but she sought power, and power ultimately corrupts those of weak spirit."

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Cedric sputtered, willfully not understanding.

The bird of prey turned its eyes to the ground. "That is the price of immortality, my child." For a moment, there was a hint of sadness to the being's voice. It was fleeting, nearly hollow, but it was there.

"So what now then?"

The eagle extended its wings outward. "One day, I will show you the throne that our bloodline must sit upon. It is the key to the galaxy's salvation," it flapped its wings, and ascended several meters into the air. It managed to hover in place, its wings splayed out like a glider, its body held aloft by an invisible force. "But you are not ready now. I thought it was my destiny, but it is not. Perhaps it is not even your - perhaps your children, but it is inevitable."

Cedric blinked, utter confusion awash on his face. "What throne? What are you talking about? Why didn't you ever explain any of this to me?" His voice nearly cracked. Cedric was more than a little upset, the calm facade he usually wore cracking beneath the weight of his father's presence.

The eagle shook its beaked head. "I did not know my little one. I did not know."

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

We're just like magnets, baby
​

The golden tether between P Placeholder 0128 and herself slackened, as if besting a loss. The feeling wasn't as detrimental as dread, but it wasn't as ignorable as apathy. There was an empty wound there, and the only insight she had to it other than her own feelings of abandonment were akin to a suspension bridge over an abyss. That's how the bond between them seemed to sway in the etherial space between them. She looked over at Cedric while his paternal spectre admitted to his poor memory. In this moment he remembered the one who had damned him, but not had brought blessings to his bloodline. The reaction was like a twinge, assaulting her only momentarily before it felt like someone packed up the bridge into a suitcase with some effort and padded it with nothing but silence.

Then the wraith spoke again.

"I instructed the woman to come to Chandrila. I divined your presence here in a vision, months ago. She prepared, but she sought power, and power ultimately corrupts those of weak spirit."

Loske blinked, and stole an apprehensive glance at Cedric. Months ago. Months ago..how long ago was that? She'd been dwelling in the core for such a long time, so immersed in training and supporting Cedric and his ambitions and developing what she could along the way that she'd lost track of time. When was the Coruscaunt Sith Lord adventure? It couldn't have been more than three months ago. There was a strain on her chest as she mentally pieced together the puzzle she imagined. Everything seemed too right, and too wrong at the same time. Was Metellos as random as it had felt? The Sith Lord beneath Coruscaunt's crust had employed an absurd amount of a dark technique to influence her sense of reason. She'd overcome that -- or so she thought -- perhaps it was all put together so she'd end up in Cedric's arms that same evening? Why? So the Meriphrium could have a final triumph on some eternal throne over her mother's impromptu decision? No way, that was how she felt. She was totally twitterpated over the Jedi Master. Unconsciously, she wedged a thumb between her teeth and bit down on it. How much of this was real, and how much of it, like this realm that had quivered with the bird's laughter, was orchestrated by someone far more powerful than the pair. Was she suffering from Paramnesia? This place didn't like her, she shouldn't be here. In any of this.

She'd been in this spiralling streamline of thought for the rest of the while the great eagle engaged Cedric, speaking of an orphic future. She only snapped back to attention when she heard the vulnerability of her paramour. Her initial reaction was to reach out to comfort him, imbued with a sense of protectiveness, but she found herself hesitating. True, her core was rooted in comfort and people pleasing -- but that whole line about months was really throwing her off her stride.

Ugh she felt sick, suddenly. She twisted the ring around her finger to help her focus on keeping any sort of bile from rising. She could use one of Dissero's toys right about now, something stronger on keeping her balanced.

The bird didn't know about some thone? Seemed like that had been an obsession of his life..

"Do you know now? Can you tell us now? You seem to have a keen sense of foresight. How long ago did you predict Cedric would be here?" She was now like...way too interested. "And was he alone in this vision?" If he was alone in this vision, did that mean this father figure was willing to sacrifice his corporeal son's life force for the birth of his adopted Anari?

Her head was spinning.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Shadows gathered about him.

Balance was Cedric's natural state. He rejected the trappings of most emotion, stood aside and above the vices of humanity. He was forged of greater things: his purpose divine and wholly certain. His birth was the result of a vergence in the empyrean, or so he had been told since his earliest days. The few doubts that ate at him were kept maintained, limited to the dark corners of his mind, and locked away for all eternity.

Or at least they should have been.

His arms fell limply to his sides as he cast his gaze to the ground. The bridge between him and Loske felt impossibly large now, a gap that could not be walked. Once again, Cedric was alone, and wholly unaware of what he radiated out into the empyrean. That self-righteousness burned away, the flames of his zeal simmered until only cold ashes remained.

The bitterness Cedric felt in the very core of his gut was all consuming. He stared at the eagle that was his father's visage, and felt nothing but the desire to feel the bird's fragile little neck snapping between his fingers.

There was a hole that could never be filled. It had always been there.

"You never did know much, did you?" He asked, his voice like a frozen river, hostility brimming like poison at its edges. All his life had been planned before his birth. Autonomy had been a joke to his progenitors. He was to be a slave, and though he'd rejected the title, in his heart he knew it to be true.

The eagle was expressionless. Animals tended to be.

"I suppose not." It admitted, its tone monotone as it turned to Loske. "He was alone. The boy has never been one for companions of any nature." A soft wind whipped about the two humans, gentle, quiet, and cold. "The woman was to guide, not to harm, but she ignored my will. She sought the Anari for herself, and in doing so sought your death. The infants were born early - it is why the mother fades now. Such creatures are sensitive to the ebb and flow of the Force."

The eagles' eyes narrowed. "It seems the Force's will is one that I cannot understand. Not wholly. I never could. All I know now is that I walk between, and the throne awaits."

The creature turned its intelligent eyes upon Cedric, as if understanding his thoughts. "There were never any choices, and then there were only choices. The Force's will is not understandable, because the Force itself does not know its own will. It simply is."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the clearing.

"Do not hate me." It asked.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

My disproportionate reactions fuse with my eager state
​

The first time she'd fixated on Cedric's presence within The Force, he was resilient and moulded in stoic knowledge. The permeating fortitude of that same presence now was so absolute it threatened to break under duress. Is that what was to happen down here? Was it mendable? If so, by who? Could she do it? Could big bird do it? Could Cedric? Her spiralling mentality didn't abate, and she exhaled heavily to stay focused and grounded while P Placeholder 0128 breathed out a hostile, accusatory question. This reunion was not going well. It explained more and more why Cedric's heart was made of armour.

She afforded herself a moment's relief that came with the admittance of her not being a part of the vision, like she was an unwelcome voyeur. Even if it was just to get a grip herself. It'd do no good to have them both in a clouded state of mind. So clouded, that she barely dared to attempt to infringe on the internal squander that revolted within Cedric. Life's orenda within relationships was something she appreciated, coveted, and the suggestion that genuine affection triumphed foreordained events gave her temporary reassurance -- until it was mitigated again with uncertainty. The impact of pure death in the netherworld was a dire impact on the girl's psyche, and where she usually had confidence, she was open to apprehension.

The eagles' eyes narrowed. "It seems the Force's will is one that I cannot understand. Not wholly. I never could. All I know now is that I walk between, and the throne awaits."

A student of the mystical, Loske was quickly deducing that The Force created more questions than it gave answers.

It gave a plea, from father to son (or, spectre to corporeal), and she daren't speak on anyone's behalf. The reactions unpredictable. Hate was beyond a Jedi -- or, it was supposed to be. Her physical self withdrawn into her own arms to give the space for whatever needed to happen. It was difficult to contain herself in the flesh that had been fused for her. The innate desire for intimacy and appreciation thrummed at her heart, attempting to have the chest muscle override the her motor controls to do something reassuring. Maybe physical would be inappropriate. She slackened her wrap, willing herself to move. To do something. It had only been a handful of tense moments, but she couldn't bear it. That chasm between them was dark, and she ventured out to it, standing on the proverbial edge before attempting to unpack that suitcase again, doing what she could to influence some semblance of reassurance through the void.

Hate was not for the Jedi, but it was an emotion reserved for humans. Hate was a choice. Prerogative was a human blessing and curse. Especially in this instant.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Sweat poked at Cedric's brow as he stared at the hovering creature that was his father.

A question was asked. It hung their, a boulder poised on the precipice, ready to fall and crush everything below with the slightest push. Cedric felt it in his very bones, a sureness that had only ever touched him when channeling the light itself. So many times the Ashla had used him as a vessel. So many times had he willingly given himself to it.

The Jedi's lips were pressed into a thin line as he fought for words. The turbulence of the emotions he was feeling right now stirred within him; a thunderstorm of barely contained violence, disgust, rejection, and an overwhelming sadness he'd only ever felt when his twin sister had been slain fighting in his name.

So many lives lost. So many cherished souls thrown into the fire, and for what? To follow his father's grand plan? To be a pawn in a some great game he'd never been aware was being played?

"Did you ever love me?"

The eagle halted mid-air, staring down at the Jedi ponderously. "I did."

A heavy exhale was drawn from Cedric's lungs. He cast his gaze to the ground, his hands balling at his sides as he tried to regain some control over his emotions. "Then I can't hate you."

Something else reached out. It was a desperate thing, a need that pulled at the edge of his psyche. He involuntarily reacted to it, his head jerking toward Loske. He met her gaze, and felt some of that pain slip from his heart. His father had never been there for him, but someone was now.

"You betrayed everything we stood for," his voice was low as he turned back to the eagle. "I won't do the same." He stood a bit taller, chin jutted out defiantly against the will of the gods. "I'm not like you." It came out almost as a hiss.

The eagle bowed its head slightly. "I know, and that is why I have always loved you, my son."

The slight wind picked up suddenly, threatening to topple Cedric over. He stumbled, his gaze falling away from the eagle. The wind suddenly abated, and when he looked up, P Placeholder 04 was gone.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Focus.​

Hoo-boy did she ever need some air.

And she got it..a whole gust of it. She lifted her arms to cover her eyes and stepped back to brace herself from the thunderous rolling that bathed them in pressure. The exit was dramatic, and within moments it was quiet and they were once again in the void of this deathly plain with nothing but brumous skies stretching for miles and miles. Or maybe centimeters. She wasn't sure about relativity here and it's relationship to their vagarious journey.

That had been very private experience, in its full purity. Loske's arms dropped and she folded her hands in front of her for the interim of silence that seemed required to fully absorb the prior interactions. The intensity hadn't fully disappeared with its subject, and while the Mephirium may have disappeared, the effects of its presence still lingered.

When it was starting to get too quiet, she stepped forward, unlacing her hands and reaching out to touch Cedric for the first time since being insulted by the representation of his father. He'd feel her concern before anything physical. There was an abnormal delicacy to her approach, respecting the distance "How do you feel?"

She was going to ask P Placeholder 0128 if he was okay, but that could have been a binary response. That had threatened a cataclysmic outcome Loske wasn't wholly prepared for, and The Force was still emanating small pulses that could be interpreted as forewarnings, that there was a delicacy to be tread here.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The darkness fled as quickly as it had come.

It was only when Cedric unclenched his hands that he realized how closely he'd come to the precipice. For a moment, it had felt as if his entire world was unraveling, as if his very identity was nothing but a creation of his father. Something had drawn him back, and for once, it had not been his dedication or his resolve. He'd lost both of those amidst the conversation.

He turned to Loske, a look of total exhaustion in his features. In the absence of the Force, Cedric just felt empty. It was almost comforting to feel nothing after having experienced such a whiplash of emotions.

But then that whiplash came again.

"I don't know." He spoke honestly, confusion in his gaze. "I..." his voice trailed off as he failed to find the right words. How could one describe this sensation?

How do I feel?

He didn't shy from her touch, but rather turned into it, his arms lacing about her waist as he drew her close. The emptiness faded as he rested his chin upon her shoulder, allowing himself a moment of pure human comfort.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here," he finally admitted, his voice a weak whisper. He clung to her, eyes drifting shut as he willed the events that had just transpired to flee from his mind. A few small tears fell down his cheek, something so foreign and alien to the Jedi Master that he found it to be more than a bit overwhelming.

He had Loske, and that was all he needed.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Let me go on living in the eye of the storm
​

So that was what she had felt. That giant chasm and darkness that threatened to consume the suspension betwixt the pair hadn't been from the depths of the abyss, it was the shadow stretching up to consume and untether. It remained unspoken, but the failed experiment was getting pretty good at inferring. The despair that stretched through his grip did more talking than anything he could have said, although he tried to articulate. He accredited her presence as the lifeline, and she felt her throat tighten with the pressure that came with that responsibility. She embodied none of the control he suggested she had. With an attempt to bolster, rather than being wholly consumed, she reached up to brace the back of his head with a reassurance to let him stay in this compromising position, while the other hand reached around his back.

Loske was suddenly all too aware of that bond that had been forged for them, and where her emotions were right now relative to where he ended and she began. She did her best to stay the ones that felt inundated with apprehensive burden. It was her meliorism P Placeholder 0128 found elysian in, and that's what she'd emphasize in this embrace, tightening her hold and gentling her press against his skull.

They remained poised like this in silence for a time. Long enough for Loske to feel the eventual soddening of her shirt's collar with salt, and she drew that hand from the back of his head to his jawline, bracing it temporarily and pressing her forehead against his. He knew very well what he would have done had she not been there, that was something she assumed from his uncharacteristic outpour. Was it shame that prevented him from reacting in an anti-hero manner? She shuddered out her breaths, furrowing her brow as she let her mind wander into the weight he'd passed to her. How could she possibly rise to that paragon status to keep the moral compass eternally pointing north, when she felt so undecided on the roles to play within The Force, and with each other.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Emotion had always been a weakness for the Essonian Jedi. For one that claimed to walk the higher path, so many of his ambitions were molded by the primal chemicals bubbling in his brain. Pride had seen him stand against the Sith even when doing so likely led to the burning of Ession. His love for his sister had resulted in the mass campaigns to expand Ession's territories, and thus allowed the Sith into their lands. Clearly retaining ties toward his father after the man's fall had been a mistake.

He slowly quieted as Loske held him, all too aware of the vulnerability with which he'd shown the blonde. He generally kept his feeling on matters quite guarded; to show them freely was a dangerous thing. She'd been afforded something he'd never have dared to allow another living soul to see, and it hadn't been of his volition.

He simultaneously hated himself for it, and found himself adoring the girl that had chosen to take him into her arms. Slowly he allowed his eyes to open, bracing his brow against her own in an expression of unity he'd never experienced before.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. "I'm sorry," his eyes drifted open, his body stilling as he regained a semblance of composure. "This isn't like me, I don't..." he glanced to the side, chewing down on his lower lip as his gaze returned to Loske. "Thank you." Was all he could think to say.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske was at a paradoxical juncture of wanting to be intimately close pressed to someone, and needing space after being given the responsibility of being the beacon that kept the ship from steering to the darkly rocks that would surely tear it asunder. Her innately free spirit hammered within her ribcage, unaccustomed to the intensity of the tide welling within and threatening revolt. Or upheaval. The clone wasn’t built for this.

Rather than trying to parse it, she elected to exist. She’d get space or collect herself when they were out of this place.

“Don’t apologize, don’t thank me.” She murmured, frowning at his denial while she fought with her own. He could just be for a few minutes. No expectations, just exist without precedent or poise.

“You’re human, Cedric. That’s nothing to apologize for. I didn’t do anything.”
A characteristic melting smile was offered, and a thumb stretched beneath one of his eyes, brushing outward to the ear to remove the stained path. P Placeholder 0128 looked wan. She likely did too. Dirt still clung to each of them, traces of poison still ebbed in her bloodstream, and they were existing in a realm of the deceased.

Cerulean gaze remained fixated. To say his emotions hadn’t phased her would be false. She just wasn’t sure how to categorize her reaction yet, and how he expected her to rise to the occasion.

“Take the time you need, and then we should try to get back.”

 

[Placeholder 0128]

“I’m good, I’m good.” He assured. He returned her smile with one of his own, leaning into her touch for the moment. His lips pressed to her own briefly, before he began to draw away.



“We do need to get moving. I’d rather not have anymore runs ins with spiritually entities. I’ve about reached my quota on that end.” He quipped, a tired smile on his face as he regained his composure.



The imbalance was gone. He walked perfectly in the Light’s grace once again. Nothing else could have shaken him, but Mephirium has a deep hold on his child. Loske had let him lean on her, he’d have to do the same when the time came that she might need it. It was a burden he was more than happy to hear.



“I’m not certain how to find a por-“ his words halted as he finally looked away from her. A swirling mass of energy had coalesced a few meters away, at the edge of the fog. It was pure white in color, like a mirror of wax suspended a foot or so in the air.

Loske Treicolt



“At least he left us a parting gift.” Cedric sighed, a hand offered out to Loske.