Androgynous Empathy (Jared Ovmar)

[Yasha Cadera]

An election to the High Council of the Fringe sounds more impressive than it feels, when the lone celebration took place with my neck being used as someone's personal snuggy toy. Came real to me as I was hanging there, that my natural hidden talents, my androgynous behaviour and fluid ability to become whatever another being wants or needs isn't going to last forever. I'm too fastly fixed in the spotlight to rely on sliding through shadows out stage left and exit the back door. Scared me senseless, and yet I still want to celebrate.

So what's an empath like me to do in order to celebrate? Find someone who won't project their preferences and get plastered. Checking on my Lifter's datacore, I'm running through the vocal diary tapes I shell out daily dousing a pattern out of the current for that one person I feel I can spend time with and still be me. @[member="Jared Ovmar"].

How long's it been since Coruscant's middle dive, where both of us picked up chicks and he picked up another notch on the 'disposing of down-and-outer drug dealers' belt? Weeks? Months. It's been months. Seeing him around the High Council chambers and business's stuck him in my mind. There's a flimsy security in being around the man, the sprouting idea that he doesn't care for me to be anybody but that fledgeling core burgeoning in my mind when I'm alone in the null space or around those who don't bend me. Who aren't strong enough to bend me. As I go forward less and less people are becoming natural symbionts, yet I'm not secure. Not now, maybe not in a million or so decades of splendour, plenty and drought. Hitching up to Jared's place of choice, I carry a couple of bottles and a prayer on my breath that this is a good idea.

After all, dig hard enough and everyone has a reason to celebrate.

 

[Arage Bao]

There was a reason Jared loved his job, of course it had nothing to do with the money, power or the fame. Nay, it was the responsibility and the feeling of a good job done at the end of the day. Nothing to do with the big penthouse in the middle of Annaj, the luxurious ships and beautiful women. Jared was too responsible and patriotic for that sort of stuff... sorta. In any rate, his penthouse was the meeting of his choice. He had not spoken to Anders for quite some time now, too busy with Fringe business; but after a while he finally got some free time.

Naturally, he decided to spent that time with that old friend.

"Anders, welcome, my friend."

The lad would hear that message appear in his mind, as soon as he approached Jared's home.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The mental presence of @[member="Jared Ovmar"] finds me on my way up the Penthouse entrance and a smarmy grin splatters off my face. Better replace that thing with something that won't get me killed. Funny thing, friendships. Doesn't take long for them to count for something. 'Course it's not till I mosey on into Chez Ovmar that I realize just how built up and dignified Jared is. Just what was he doing in that dive on Coruscant, when he could have been on the upper levels drinking fine brandy and blossom wine? I let the sensation pass, we all have reasons for our places in life, for our moments and our intrusions into the moments of others. "Hei! How's the High Life, dude?"

I trot inside and put the bottles on the nearest counter and turn round to look at the place. Nodding my approval, I fix the collar on my blue long sleeve button down, and rub the top of my boot on the back of my grey trousers. Pressed and dressed am I, the trousers for once aren't tucked in, and I made sure to clean the boots something impeccable. "I brought an Atrisian Brandy and a Blossom wine from my hometown. Honey fruit tastes kinda like apples so thought it would go with your appletini vibe. Time to celebrate, you know? Don't know if the Fringe'll be celebrating my election to your Council or ruing the day, but whatevs. The pie was great. Next thing? Boom! Coucil with a Dragon! Hah! Hhh.. gl-glasses? Where are the…"

Time with old friends. How better to fill one's day?

 

[Arage Bao]

"Surprised to see me living in... well not a dump?" Anders's feelings and emotions were less easy to read then in the beginning. Jared smiled as he thought back to their first meeting, the lad had been a wave in a big ocean. He was still no rock, but at least he did not call himself Jared and started drinking appletinis. That was something in his book. His eyes settled on the bottles and a laugh escaped him. "I see. You want to make this a night to remember? Maybe we need to take a ship to Zeltros after a couple of drinks. I have heard the party never stops there. Though I would prefer to stay in today, have a couple of drinks with a friend and just enjoy a quiet moment. What say you?"

Sometimes a man just wants to relax for a bit.

With grace, he strode into the living room; expecting Anders to follow him. He sat down in a chair and gestured his friend to do the same.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"A little of this, a little of that. I live on my ship! It's cozy." I wave my hand in the air, a warm chuckle for my friend and grab a couple of glasses. There's a draught of emptiness to the Penthouse, as if everything so perfectly placed was another ruse or flick of a card game Anders didn't know how to play. Yet the place is sturdy, like my mind tonight. The muscles in my back begin a slow uncoil, Jared knows me. He's experienced the sympathetic symbiosis in its fledgeling genesis and told me 'no'. No symbiosis tonight. I'm my own, or I'm a whisper on the breeze, gone in a fleeting moment. "I was vaguely aware of you not living in boxes, but this is swank. Do… do people say swank nowadays? Yeah, I did, so people do." On my way into the living room, I grab those glasses and set them down, popping the top off the brandy and pouring a couple good splashes in each.

Giving @[member="Jared Ovmar"] a drink is like hitting the looking glass and finding that it's made of tight-wound fabric over a sturdy frame. There's no mirror but my creative conscience. I settle into a chair and sigh. "Zeltros, eh? You know that place left me on a bender for three and a half months once? I was nineteen and damn, I woke up on another planet by the time the 'me' came back in my head. Not complaining, the whole experience was fun but … yeow." Taking a sniff of the brandy, my eyes water at the fragrant bouquet. A few weeks ago I'd never be able to afford something like this, but times changed. There's even dragons!

"Quiet is good. Feels like the night for it, and after the whole Elections Party Neck-kerchief action? Quiet sounds really good." I twitter out a small embarrassed laugh, ringing my fingers around my neck as I take a long sip of the brandy. "How've you been, Jared?"

 

[Arage Bao]

“In your ship, huh. If you need a place to crash, do not hesitate to impose on my hospitality.” the words came out with a smile, some people were overly sensitive. Not that Anders was one of them, but still. It came naturally to him, to soften his snarky nature. Diplomacy could be quite a... troubling thing. Jared yawned softly as he gracefully resettled himself in his comfy chair. “Mhmmhnn.” It seemed the Lord of the Fringe had found his drink, even more important was the fact that he seemed to like it. “Exquisite, my friend. You will have to tell me where you got this.”

He closed his eyes as he considered his following words. “It would be a learning experience, Anders. Some day you will have to learn to keep being Anders, even in places like Zeltros. Only then will you be the master of your own destiny.” It was the truth, as long as Anders had to invite certain places; because of their influence? Well it was not an ideal situation.

“Tired, Anders... tired. The Confederation demands a lot of me, but it is worth it.” a smile decorated his face, as he thought about all that it had given him. “You all are my family. A little bit of blood, sweat and tears means nothing at that point.”

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"Aw, it's not a bad thing, for a while it was the only way to be Anders, being in open sp-well, I'm getting my hold on... a place to... yeah that... what can I do in return? For the hospitality?" My mouth moves up and down. Where did I pick it up? Was it the planet with the... or the one with... or.... I'm so busy sipping my indecently good brandy that I rub my forehead with a knuckle. "When I figure out the where, I'll let you know." Was it maybe in the... no, that was... "I got the wine from Naboo... um... Cor-no-nothereeither... I'll search my Logs and find it."

"That's assuming I have a destiny to master, Jared. Been too capricious to stop long enough and suss out what I want, if anything. I shift in the wind, get lost by it like petals on the breeze and once in a while I settle. Get pinned up, placed in, protected. Then it's off. Another breeze. The fact I might want something? Me, Anders I? Getting used to it. Feels about as comfy as this chair."

I pour more brandy into our glasses without thinking of how much I'm tossing in, just pour till I stop and the inner beat to the moment is companionship and silence. That thick-smoke silence, like incense burning into the air, fragrant with enough breeze not to be cloying. Will it congeal? Will the silence, like the incense, drift onto the furniture and over our shoulders and settle on our heads? Become a layer of dust, or the expansion of the mind to a more sanctified state of being?

"Let me help. About all I've got, precarious as I am. The Confederation is taking from you, so let me help with the load. Let me give something back. Owe you more then that. You and Spencer." Another long drag of the brandy and I feel its warmth settling in my chest, in the soothing lull of the chair's fabric on my back. I tilt my head back and watch the way his jaw moves as he sits there, tired Master yet kind in a place of his choosing. I don't want to read into the motion, the way his elbows dress the chair he's on, the way his lids closed and his face relaxed. A man at home. A man in repose, in comfort and security. A man in which no harm may befall. He is Master of his dominion and here, lonely traveller, I am allowed my place by the fire. I feel my face soften, eyebrows dis-contorting from the usual mask I splay cross my face. I tug a shirt sleeve up, the cuff coming loose and rolling to reveal wrists which may, to the less-than-casual observer, be dainty. Feminine.

"I've been so many. People, destinies, My life has been a conglomerate of their desires. Laying claim on anything was a dangerous, if meaningless whisper in the night. A thank you and an 'I forgive you' to each of my symbionts, lovers, fast and one-day friends, needy, needy people who didn't realize what they did to me. What their presence made me become. Exactly what was needed. Exactly what was wanted in their inner most hearts. I was glad for each one, hoped to make their lives better for the meeting and the parting. No matter the cost to myself.

To think... to think I can trot out and lay a claim, pull a job out of the proverbial hat and be... breathtaking, you know? Comes a time even the most stagnantly protected being has to let their walls fall down. What is family? What does it mean to you?" A glance to the nearest reflection - cheeks softened, jaw relaxed, eyes wide and soft I sit with my green-and-hazel gaze on the Master Ovmar, the man who stomped on another easy synthesis of being for pushing me onto my own two feet. @[member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Drinks, drinks and drinks. The alcohol was slowly easing into his bloodstream, warming and relaxing him. He was at home, with a friend, having a good time. His mind was slowly unwinding, exploring the far reaches of his home. It touched Anders' mind delicately, without meaning to, and felt that the man was starting to relax too. Which was a good thing, because the lad really needed to unwind more.

“There is nothing you have to do, Anders... besides.. being my friend. A man can never have enough of those, can he?”

His eyes opened, as he realized his own words. “I mean.. err.. yeah.” a cough escaped his mouth as he fidgeted with his glass. Then a sigh of relief escaped his mouth, as he listened to Anders.

“Do not fret. I will lend you assistance in this matter.” he chuckled softly. “What would you give me, Anders?” Then his hand waved as if to wash away the question. “No, do not answer that. I appreciate it, but this is my burden to carry. You have enough of your own problems, to deal with mine also.”

Slowly the worry resided and Jared was starting to feel at ease again. In the back of his linger conscience there was still a nagging sense of idiocy. Never trust a man with your deepest thoughts, it said to him. For that was the moment you got betrayed. But for once he refused to abide by those rules.

Anders was a good friend, one of the better ones he had. This was his domain and he would not let his mood sour, just because there might be some metaphorical skeletons in his closets. There would come a time he would do something about it, not today though. Today... they would drink and make merry.

Almost as if to show a good example, he took a large swig from his drink. Resolutely he put the glass on the table and eased himself into the chair again. Carefully he listened to his friend's words and then surprised himself.

“I never had family. The Understreets of Coruscant can be a lonely place, always have to watch your step. Always look over your shoulder, for every moment can be your last one.

The need to be strong, independent, ruthless.. it kills a man piece by piece. Until he is reduced to just a mere shadow of his former self. Spencer saved me from that and for that I will always be grateful.

You ask me what family means to me. I would not know, but I do know that -now-? Now you are my family. You, Spencer, Ashin, Sargon and all the others of the Fringe.

You are the reason I put myself out there everyday and when tiredness tries to overwhelm me; I stand up and say: “Do your worst, for I will do mine!”

A bit embarrassed with himself, he coughed again.

“Did I just make an ass out of myself? Forgive me, I blame the excellent drinks you brought.”

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"I can handle being your friend. Also, hope you don't mind me spoiling you senseless every once in a while. A couple of my symbionts were chefs. I… I learned the knack." I crack my knuckles and undo one of the buttons on my blue shirt, letting the near-tunic open to a slim and pretty collarbone. "My problems are simple. Sure there's the whole jilted fiancé trying to kill me thing, but eh! What kind of friend am I if I'm nothing but the glitter on a woman's dress? Let me help you."

I watch his glass go down with a thunk and stare at it. The last bits of brandy a veining down into a microcosmic pool at the bottom and I glance upward at him, watching his display. The fire of the man! The tenderness stoking it to cover any tracks meant to lead his enemies backward into what he loves… I am captivated and caught.

"You didn't. I've known a couple real asses and that? Right there? Wasn't making an ass. That was ineb-inrb-inee-bree-ated honesty." I pull at the word, willing it to come from my liquor addled mind. Have I had this much to drink outside of a symbiotic situation before? I search the lifetimes, little pock marks of memories. My eye shuts and I stretch. Let my glass drain down my throat and sigh into the chair, throwing one leg then the other over the arms.

"They are excellent drinks. All hail the brandy!" I grin heartily and laugh clear and unencumbered birdsong, soft. Feminine. My vocal chords relax and in the aroma of our mutual honesty, I toss my head back, looking at him upside down. Basking in @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s loosened tongue, I commit the words and their passing through his lips to memory, a symbiont of a different kind I package and hold when the nights are their loneliest in the cold depth of space and I alone am honest.

"Mom and Dad lost my brother when he was a toddler. Mom was pregnant with me at the time. When I was born, they named me after my brother. Andra. All Mom thought about was having her little boy back, grief made me be that little boy she lost. The perfect little boy. Took years for Daddy to get it, and by then my empathic powers were already so firmly in place it was too late. I'd shift and become whatever the strongest person in the room wanted. Boy, girl, didn't matter. Whatever they wanted. Dad bought me my Lifter. Tiniest ship ever, man! I was what, twelve? He sent me out into space to find Andra. To cling for something, told me the Force would guide me, and what did I know? I was a confused twelve year old! But I did find Andra, I guess. Somewhere in the void. Deep in space there's not much else to find.

Never been back. . . I've seen a lot of families, Jared. I've seen a lot of men in pieces, women too. There's only one redemption outside the supernatural will of the Force, and that's not being alone. Men weren't meant to be alone. Women, sure, we can last alone for a long time pining on imaginations and hopes and dreams, but men? A lonely man is a ship stuck in winter, trapped by ice. They can fill their bed and their time with any and every shape and thing, but the loneliness is still there, aching in the quiet steppes of the mountain pass for that right quality to rescue it. Don't be lonely. Promise."

The day I was born, my Dad looked down at the tiny bundle and spat the sour ichor of mourning and defeat out of his mouth. He never spoke ill to me, never wished and pined for the son he'd lost because I was his treasure, his precious jewel. A daughter is the diamond of the crown, the star from which a father extrapolates the dawning joy of his life. I kick my boots off, hitch up on both feet and wait for that blessed fog of symbiosis to make me blameless in my own eyes for what I'm about to do.


There is no conjoined neural pattern or empathic storm washing Andra away, there is only Jared. The man raised by steel and shuddering fitful moments where he could nearly trust enough to sleep. I stub my toe on the coffee table, catch my hands on his shoulder and look up into his eyes. He could snap me in twain with his pinkie, "Loneliness is worse than deconstructing. Don't be lonely."

Who am I talking to, I wonder, as my lips brush against Jared Ovmar's. Him, or myself?

 

[Arage Bao]

The story of his life had him confused, he was not sure why. But something did not seem entirely right, but he did not stop Anders's talk. Sometimes, when a man starts to talk, he needs to finish anything that is on his plate. Seemed to Jared that his friend had never been able to relate his life with anyone, seemed wrong to take that away from him.

Besides, Jared was pretty drunk at that point of time. He had probably imagined the part where-- ...and then he kissed him. Jared's eyes opened immediately and he was in the progress of pushing Anders gently away when... everything clicked.

Moments, feelings and sounds made connections in his brain, when he realized all that there was to know. Her lips were soft... her.

Still, he disentangled himself from.. Anders? And coughed, while trying to make sense of things with a foggy alcohol-ridden mind.

“You are.. not a he. I... am an idiot.”

His hand softly brushed her hair, as he recounted their first meeting. It was cast in a different light, even then he had noticed that Anders was maybe a bit different. Someone more feminine, when he had pulled him back to his own mind there had been a glimmer. But for some reason there had not been a connection.


@[member="Anders Sivas"]

Now things were different though and he was not really sure what to think.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Eyes shut, I drift backward as @[member="Jared Ovmar"] pushes me gently, puts his hand on my hair and gets it. I'm nearly as shocked, the dominant 'Anders' in my brain is yelling that I'd be safer if I carried the illusion forward, if I endured as the weak and feeble Anders in Jared's mind. Andra is far less feeble, far more dangerous than a slim-pickings boy saved out of pity and carried on as a reward for a shudderingly good deed executed with the torture and pain of dealing men.

Andra is precarious and bold. Fears lace in the aftermath of Andra, in the quiet hours while the universe sleeps and I lay awake pulling covers to my chest and wondering if I should wait before climbing back into my shell and running for it.

"Don't beat yourself up, I hide behind gender like a scared child. It was how I kept safe… combine that with my natural symbiotic behaviour and the roles get confused sometimes." My hand wobbled in front of my forehead, as if the lines that bound good boys and girls was a physical tangle of wires. Would it make him feel better, to know it was a hard confusion not malicious but meticulously chosen to defend where might was not. My cheek brushes his hand as it leaves my hair, and I drift backward into my chair. One leg hitches up on the arm, my finger taps at my lips and I let it rest between my teeth. My lips still taste like Jared's brandy.

"Please don't tell. Can.. can I be your secret?" The voice that curls out is a soft messo, meek and becoming of the rush of blood to my cheeks. My hazel and green eyes crawl up Jared's body by inches, two parts terrified one part hopeful and one part… well, he's a fine specimen of manhood. My gaze settles on his face and I wait for the inevitable,

I wait for the second he shifts and I have to grab my boots and run.

 

[Arage Bao]

For a while he just considered the... girl in front of him. Strange thing when your world is turned upside down, nothing seems to be the same anymore. The soft touch of her lips seemed to have leaved a burning sensation on his own, had he liked it? It was tough question to answer, now that he saw her for who she really was; Jared could not deny the subtle signs of her beauty. Hidden by even subtler signs of make-up and mental nudges, she probably was not even aware of making.

It made him angry for some reason, that she had to hide herself behind a persona. The outside world could be a cruel place, especially for someone who could not help but bend him or herself to other people's whims. Thinking back to their meeting, Jared shook his head softly as how he himself had had that effect on his... friend. Then again, he had made sure Anders stayed Anders then.

“Your secret is safe with me, Ander-- I suppose Andra will do in private.”

A sigh escaped his mouth as he leaned backwards in his chair and thought about the complications. Were there any? Or was he just being difficult for no reason at all. Then something else clicked inside of him... it was the other Jared. The one who always came sniffing when opportunity arose.

...and there was lots and lots of opportunities to be had. But not now, he was moving way too quickly and he was not sure how the.. girl would react to that. Things were different now, plans had to be changed.

“I think I am going to need another drink.”

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

I bask in the well of the chair and begin to feel the spike-driven birth of anger. This is it, the running time, my fingers cling to the arms of the chairs winding potential energy around my muscles with the will to spring up and race for it. If Jared's drunk, confused, lenient, I might make it to the end of the Penthouse. If he's even more merciful I might make it to my ship and then off in space for another deep space trek for radically bent spans of time. Hung in the catastrophe I expect, it blows me back in my chair when that self same anger becomes an anger not at me, but the Other, the entangling men and women who forced me into hiding by circumstance and genuine danger.

Universe's a whole lot safer for an impressionable young man than it is for an impressionable young lady. The walls fall down.

A myriad of mental and physical prods I've learned over the years to masculinate myself fall to rubble in his presence and I understand in the innermost places of my cacophonous mind that @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s Penthouse is a place of safety, and although thousands have the good sense to be terrified by the man at one time or another, I have nothing to fear. Feels like years of tension roll off my shoulders and down my muscles until they drain away from the soles of my feet. It's an uncanny humbling to be in the open air with a man who became my friend through honest pre tense and now has seen me. Secret laid bare I have no more mental suggestion or shadow in which to hide, and the flow of his moods around me is as calming as a stream of clear running water in spring. "Andra works. Gotta admit, it's good to hear my name. Missed it, you know?"

I get on my inebriated feet and nearly tumble over to him, I nearly kneel 'say it again! Say it, say that I can be truth in your eyes. A private truth no usurper could invade, call me Andra and allow me here, in your solitude' The thought comes, spreads across my emotional plateau, across my face and as it fades to resound as a constant chime in the air, I undo another restrictive button on my shirt, not indecent but enough to show the rise of my tender chest, grab a couple of wine glasses, open the blossom wine and pour Jared a drink. The fragrance is not quite apples, but a cousin from another world which once had been planted as orchards of the fruit, until climate, time and the farmer's shears evolved it into a relative instead of a twin. My hand holding his glass out for him shivers lightly with adrenaline and the off-shoots of fear dwindling away, "You'll like this one… I …. I didn't come here with the intent to do this, I just wanted to see my friend. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Gets to the point now I don't even realize I'm doing it. Anders is safe."

 

[Arage Bao]

What was he going to do? Did he himself knew of his own course of action? He always did and even now in the farthest reaches of his mind there was only one possible way. Jared wondered what the kiss had meant, was it just a convenient way to tell him that she in fact trusted him? Had it been the drink or... was there maybe something else?

Questions, questions and even more questions. But at the end of the day, there was only one way. He had already thought that once, but the drinks made him think in circles. So no harm done in that. As she walked over to give him his drink, he carefully stood up. The ground was shaking, had it always done so? Probably the drinks, one more and he would be seeing flying unicorns again.

As she gave him a new drink, he put his hand on hers and studied her. Before he finally said something.

“It is not discomfort I am feeling right now, Andra.”​

​

He brought her hand, her free one of course, to his lips and placed a kiss on it.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The problem of empathy was a case of lonely definitions. When the hearts of folk were spread across my mind, it became easy to rely on their definitions of events and feelings and negate my own. Here I stand with a shaky @[member="Jared Ovmar"], both holding a wine glass in one hand and as he takes my other hand he speaks. The definitions change, they weaken and crumble into a miasma neither of us can figure out on this side of it. At this angle, the miasma is but a wealth of the possible. Truth is, I've grown fond of Jared Ovmar. Firstly fascinated, a little afraid, cautious and enjoyed, but getting closer to him, getting into his inner circle was as natural as walking in a straight line. Don't make me give him back now. Please, don't make this go away.


My breath hitches and I'm caught in the swell of his mental texture, as inebriated and confused as it is. The confusion is beginning a slow slick away from his present course of action and the utter fluctuations of relief coat every part of me, every mental projection, every timid tiny breath my lungs are fluttering around. Where he kissed it, my hand burns with plasmatic heat, as if the action's genuine intent cleansed that piece of skin of the malady of mimicking others. Cleansing me by inches of my masks. I rotate my hand, lace my fingers with his and hold on with a shaking death grip I didn't know I had. It's still feeble in comparison to any grown man. My body shifts closer to his, I press against him and my face burrows into his collarbone and crook of his neck, and I let it go.

The fear, the panic, the urge to run and hide. It dissipates in the fire of his kiss on my hand and I tug the hand I'm holding until our fists rest on my hip. Just to be held, as Andra and no other, is a joy I've rarely known. Have I ever known it? "Thank you Jared. Goddess, thank you. Please… don't let go. You can still trust me, you can still count on me, I.. I can figure this out, I… I'm going to shut up, 'cause this? This right here? Is incredibly nice. I like this." Short of telling the man he smells good, I'm surprised by how the drink's freed my mouth now that the bag's empty of its cat. Good Goddess of Victory, what am I doing and why was I afraid in the first place?

 

[Arage Bao]

The enjoyment of the moment made him catch his breath, the moments of happiness Jared had experienced in his short life were few. One hand could count them all, so to speak and still... there was doubt in his mind, further away now for the drinks made his spirit foggy and his resolve weak. Walls crumbled and the stronghold that surrounded Jared was being unbuilt brick by brick. Was this the way people slowly fell in love and let their guard down?

“I-I will destroy you, these hands were not made for cherishing.”

Those words came and fled his mouth, little birds escaping the cage they were raised in. What was said could not be unsaid, but her proximity made him rethink all there was to think and everything he thought he had known.

“Why were you not there?” it was a whisper, but in the whisper something more genuine appeared. Hurt, weakness and a strange sense of longing for something Jared himself did not have a word.

If she had been with him from the start... it could all have been different. Maybe, she was the balance he had sought for for so long. Was there light in the gray emptiness of what they called Existence? Or was this a cruel joke played upon him and would she be taken away from him, like everyone else had.

Questions filled his head, but no answers came knocking.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"These hands can be saved." If I mess this up, this one's going to burn. A timid inhale, the catch of a throat as the shattered rubble of my walls are buried under the crumbling duracrete of his. "Hmmm." I bring the hand I'm still holding up to rest the back of his hand on my neck, my cheek. The skin feels electric when I kiss it, as if the interior of the man is burning the parapets of self-preservation. "Pain heals, Jared. Trust me. I might be as puny as a wasted drunk, but that doesn't mean I'm not resilient. Give yourself the chance."

The thought does not strike with a thunderclap or a hammer or a sudden arresting slap in the face. It is a ripple in a clear body of water: I am free in my own agency and volition reminding me of a lullaby my father sang me when as a child I still lived under mother's roof. 'I am the bed of the river. The river flows across me, I am not the water. I am the bed of the river. I give the river direction, change its flow. Without the river, I would not exist. Without me, the river would be formless precipitation wasted on a dead world.'

I've made thousands of connections, where for even a second and a half I was the mirror in which a person could discover and love themselves. Jared isn't projecting his will, his has not been the task of self-desire, but of an opposite reliance. His inner hurt flushes my cheeks with its bold faced longing, I grip harder to his hand. Will he wake in the morning and throw me to the doorstep as a drunken mistake? He may. But as Coryth says, if I'm going to walk my path I stick to the hazardous road, when the road is worth the taking.

As his mind strips naked to my inner sight, I know exactly who @[member="Jared Ovmar"] is. "I'm here now. I've got you if you want me." A lonely orphan never safe, nor content, nor trusting or given to natural honest affection. I've given him a fatal flaw. To the man of infamous minds a girl from Naboo gave grace. Delight. A chance at repair. In his way, of course. I see it play on his face I pull the wine glass away and let it float to the table with a low chink. My hand brushes up his arm and slides over his shoulder to the back of his neck and his darkened hair. Pushing myself up on my tip toes, I pull his head to my shoulder in an embrace and my lips push into his neck, brushing up to his ear. "What is the past, but swirls in time's fabric? One moment can shift the entire course. It can bring clarity to the lingering past and cleanse our future demons. It can also cause more, but that's beside the point and now I'm not so eloquent as I was a second ago, but what I'm trying to say… what I mean… If I'd been there..." If I had been there, I'd be unrecognizable. I can do nothing but hold him, feel the heart beat in his chest as proof of how I'm effecting his mind and body and yet I'm not clear of head either. Far past that point are we, I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his cheek.

 

[Arage Bao]

There was a sudden stillness, a calm before a storm? Jared did not know, he was listening to her words and it granted him peace. A chance.. it was all he had hoped for, but never dreamed of getting. But did he dare to take it? He did not love her, but that did not mean he did not care for her and hurting her would be an end.

But he deserved this, did he not? He had tried to help them and he had.. it had not been his fault that it all had gone so wrong in the end. She could give him respite, she needed him, his protection. Jared could give her that, a place to be Andra, to be herself without fear for the dangers of the raging stream of emotions.

He could be her haven, if only he would be able to control himself.

As her lips touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and smiled. It had sadness in it, as a single tear descended from his eye. Jared let go then, it would be back in the morning, but for tonight he would be a different person. Not for him, for her. Because she deserved it.

“Peace...”​

​

It was not a word that was sent out for him, more a feeling of tranquility that washed over him as he let go of his inhibitions and allowed himself to -feel-. Feel her breath upon his skin and the touch of her hair on his whimpers. He would grant her a haven, that much he owed her for showing another way. It was not the way he would walk, but the mere suggestion that there was more in the world granted him closure and clarity of mind.

He kissed her brow softly and then let himself go.

@[member="Anders Sivas"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Love grows not in mighty steps and bounding leaps but in the steady application of care and attention lit by a spark in the night. Of this I'm certain, having in many places and mental states felt and was claimed in momentary passions and flash-in-the-pan loves which fizzled to char by a day the next week, when the hazardous couplings couldn't muster up the courage to peer into each others' eyes. I'm more sceptical of fast encountered loves, infatuations built on the shaky balsa-wood foundations of hormonal affection and adrenaline. I feel the heavy handed fingers of Jared's uncanny mind rest upon the construct of his current state and tear them down.

For tonight, @[member="Jared Ovmar"] for all parts and pretences is emphatically and insurmountably mine. I feel the absent feminism surge within me, which had been denied by my androgynous fears and senses of masculine safety, it becomes what I could be should I stay in this place under the protection of the Lord of the Fringe. My arms hold him closer, my fingers massage his hair as the other hand disentangles from his fingers and I brush his cheek with my thumb. His tear tastes sweet when I kiss it off the space between his lips and chin, as I pull back to watch the interplay of emotion on his face I see the reality in the bliss:

Allowing me this privilege is a ministry from a saviour's hand. To give me this place and time within it for this one span of time, Jared is devoting a prayer to the all powerful that I am allowed myself. My throat works, my jaw tightens and my hazel and green eyes burn with the rim of their own tears. So many lives, so many events and places and peoples I've become and here on Annaj I find again the emphatic Andra not through denial or isolation, but through brushing cheeks with a man whose losses have outweighed the slim gains which keep him from both madness and true delight. Lost souls are we, denied that which others keep without pause, and yet do we not deserve the moment Time has brought us? My pouted lips brush against his again, tentative at first then longingly full.

'Peace and bliss in the palm of our hands' my mind says, hoping in the artistry of the night I heal the ragged edges of my own prescience alongside his. Others may believe that grace and bliss are conquerer's tools, taken by the jackboots of proclamations and battles long waged, but even the smallest moments of mercy can bring a bliss which carries reverberations through a lifetime. My fingers drag across his cheeks and I smile openly, no hidden atom slinking between this unexpected connection.

​His kiss alights in another flicker of fire, I feel myself open in a receptive mental state, yet in this state the permission to remain anointed and wise reigns as I take in all of him to hold fast and comfort as the balm of his days. I stroke inward in his conscious state and begin the task of inspecting wounds of memory. They are vicious scabs on his persona, entry points for dark powers to grant hate and survival over the promises of life. Thus, to Jared Ovmar I bring the life abundant. I begin making peace first with the smaller moments - ones I can find a stroke of luck or a bit of grace, even the beauty of filtered light soothing the dreams of a terrified little boy, whose mother got weaker, then ended. Others I touch not, as healing is a gradual reunification between the person and faith. To all the moments I see, I put the touch of love. Love of life, beauty, the comfort of a steady friend - steady as I am. This is my true calling, the work to which I am best suited. If only I wasn't as afraid…

Regardless of the length of our lasting, I will walk and I will remember fondly the man from Coruscant who first gave me my head and allowed me a haven. I will bring this haven with me when I find him in other places and in the presence of other peoples, I shall wear it like a cloak to prove this peace tonight need not dissipate nor disappear for his cavern of sins. I bring him to the Temple of my mind where serene and doting peace lies with acceptance and allow the respite his body seeks in my flesh and bone. 'Please don't take this from me, let me keep this. Please. Don't make me give this away, too.' My thought brushes outward to the almighty Force, a prayer of hope that for once something good will linger.