Private Captivity And Disobedience

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

Azurine had no idea how long she had been here. Time stretched in strange ways within the confines of the cell, distorted by pain, exhaustion, and the numbing repetition of silence. Her only markers were the flickering of the containment field and the dull, rhythmic footsteps of the guards beyond it. Her only markers were the flickering of the containment field and the dull, rhythmic footsteps of the guards beyond it. She had counted them—three sets of boots, one heavier than the others. A shift change, maybe? It was hard to tell. The steady hum of machinery filled the void, a constant, grating reminder that she was trapped in a place designed to strip her of everything, even her sense of self.

The little sleep she managed to steal was no mercy. Each time exhaustion dragged her under, it only plunged her into nightmares—memories twisted and sharpened into cruel, unrelenting specters. Fire and shadow. Voices, distant and desperate, swallowed by the roar of destruction. She would wake with a start, breath ragged, sweat cold against her skin. And then the silence would return, leaving her alone with nothing but the flickering red glow and the distant hum of her prison.

Meditation was all Azzie could do. Her senses stretched outward, feeling for anything—any flicker of familiar presence in the Force, anything to anchor her in the void of uncertainty. That, and watch. Listen. She pressed her back against the wall, forcing herself to regulate her breathing, even as every inhale set her ribs alight with pain. Focus. Her time before waking from stasis had drilled it into her once—if you could not fight, you could do your best to try to learn. If you were chained, you could still listen. So she did.

She counted guard rotations and memorized footfalls. Noted the flickering hesitation in the plasma wall every few minutes, a fractional pulse that might have been a power fluctuation. A weakness? Maybe. Or a trap. She couldn't afford to assume. Further, she would push, so far to the point of her head spinning and nausea nearly taking over. Past the hum of machinery, past the muffled conversation of guards who thought a prisoner in chains wasn't worth their caution. Past the cold, suffocating weight of the darkness's unending presence that still clung to the air like the scent of scorched metal.

And then—a flicker. A presence, unfamiliar yet strong, an aura like a cloud of smoky air. Not like the guards. Her violet eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched into fists at her side—the shackles biting deeper into her skin, but she couldn't care less. Whatever this was, she was ready. She had to be.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

"Which is why I believe she is more valuable alive." the young Darth concluded.

The Dark Lord remained silent. Darth Carnifex hadn't said a word since they stepped into turbolift. She kept her composure well, all things considered, despite His towering form looming like a dark tower which commanded the rural village below, or how her hatred for the man swirled about her form, tinged with the last vestiges of primal fear.

They'd not been under the same room since her rebellion.

She was first to leave the claustrophobic lift, taking a deep, silent breath as she strode the hall away from Him.

The doors began to close behind her, and at last the tower spoke;

"Do not disappoint me."​

She threw a glance over her shoulder, shining gold meeting the crimson eyes of her former master for but a fraction of a second as the slit doors shut with metallic finality.

Only then did she allow herself to shudder.

Azurine's interrogator was heralded by unnaturally heavy footsteps, to say nothing of the peculiar, dead chill which clung to the force around her, as though the denizens of a graveyard followed close behind.

She arrived with a pair of black-clad guards, a war-shapen body standing between them, her marble figure almost unbecoming of the youthful, freckled face attached to it, marred by eyes of deep, glowing gold, which bore into the Jedi captor from behind the plasma-shield with an assessing stare.


"...open it, and leave us." she said after a time, her voice soft, yet no less commanding.

She stepped forward as the shield dropped and soldiers departed, each slow and deliberate, stalling for time as she observed the prisoner.

Strangely, her eyes seemed to soften. Or perhaps the shield had merely distorted them before.


"Azurine. Varek."

The sith spoke slowly, as if testing the name's taste on her tongue.

"You've gotten yourself in a lot of trouble, haven't you?"

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

The footsteps were heavy, too heavy to be anything other than deliberate, and the chill in the air froze the blood in Azzie's veins. The Force around she seemed to twist, tangling and sharp, like a thousand forgotten whispers from beyond the veil itself. Amethyst-hued eyes narrowed, glancing at the plasma wall as it dropped with a hiss and revealed the Sith who'd entered.

Her gaze flicked over the Sith woman before her, taking in the contradictions—the youthful face at odds with the war-forged body, the softness in her stare that didn't quite match the air of darkness clinging to her like a second skin. One thing she'd learned in her life was that aura's rarely—if ever—lie. Beneath that deceptively calm exterior was something twisted, something that left the air cold enough to bite and twisted the patterns around her.

Azzie exhaled sharply through her nose, tilting her head back against the cold, unyielding durasteel wall. The chains rattled with the movement, a harsh reminder of her current predicament—not that she needed one. The dryness of the cell might have made the ache worse for others, but luckily for her, she was used to much under the Iridonia sun.

The Sith's eyes softened, a look of almost curiosity passing through them, something she wasn't quite expecting. Azzie's fingers curled into fists, testing the restraints again, even though she knew they wouldn't budge. Frustration burned low in her chest, but she swallowed it down. Anger wouldn't do her any favors right now.

Are you sure about that?

She shifted against the wall, chains clinking again and pushing the thought away, her body aching from however long she'd been in this cell. The cold had seeped into her muscles, but she held herself tall, refusing to look as battered as she felt. "Trouble?" she repeated, voice dripping with mock innocence. "I prefer to think of it as creating opportunities for growth. You might want to try it sometime."

Her defiant stubbornness was something ingrained, a natural reaction to being caged—no matter who the captor was. The chains weren't enough to silence her. They never would be. Besides, that was half the game, right? Show no weakness. The other half was keeping your wits sharp, no matter how many times they tried to break you. "Oh, but forvive me, where are my manners! You have my name, but I don't know yours!"

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

"Hm." the sith clicked her tongue.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to enable the 'rude jedi' stereotype, would we?"

There was a lot on display as she approached. The the way Azurine rattled her chains, the sarcastic tone and particular choice in words. Testing boundaries, she assumed. Perhaps this one was as observant as she, not like the typical fools she'd faced. Unless of course she was merely hiding her emotion behind those little quips and humorous comments, something she'd encountered plenty of times whilst serving amongst soldiers. But if so, what was she hiding? Fear, or anger?

The sith came to a stop within arm's reach, giving the prisoner a careful lookover.


"...Darth Anathemous." she inclined her chin slightly.

Azurine may have heard it via the broadcast of her rebellion some time ago, or perhaps not. It was difficult to know how well informed The Alliance were these days. Serina Calis had known the name before leaving the temple, but then again, the dark jedi had always been a black sheep involving herself with things unbecoming of her order.

She wondered if sharing a common enemy would make her any more or less trustworthy.

On the topic of untrustworthy things, Anathemous' eyes narrowed on the woman's prosthetic, carefully drinking in every mechanical detail. It was a fine piece, one she could have mistaken for a natural arm coated in armor were it not for the fact the soldiers would have removed it if so. Had it been properly deactivated, or would she lose a finger were she to touch Azurine's own?

Anathemous would instead tap against the prosthetic forearm, trying to determine the material.

Her gloved finger made a strangely metallic sound of it's own.

"That's a fine piece of machinery there. Earned in battle, I imagine."

She turned to the jedi then, a faint but genuine spark of curiosity behind those eyes.

"Tell me, did He take it, or was this before Woostri?"

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

"I don't know about you, but chains and prison cells don't exactly make me light up like a ball of sunshine." Azzie gestured to the metal holding her to the wall and only gave her enough slack to be able to move around the cramped quarters. "But hey, if you're into that sort of thing, though, I'm not going to judge."

Her attention moved back and forth from Darth Anthemous's expression to her aura, watching closely for inconsistencies in her words or her outward front and any spiking emotional patterns in that shadowy presence. She, too, seemed to be probing her. The way they assessed could have been compared to that of two caged animals circling each other, attempting to figure the other out.

She couldn't say that the name was familiar to her, but then again, she had been reawakened into the galaxy just a little over a year ago now. She'd spent a good half of that time just trying to understand just how much had changed, and still, she had really only scratched the surface of it. Some current events had taken a large backseat to her attempt at playing 900 years' worth of catching up.

Refusing to back away when the distance was closed, the defiance flashed through the violets of her eyes like sparks of twinkling lavender. Azzie watched as the woman's gaze was drawn to her right arm. The one replaced by a sleek metal prosthetic that matched the consistency and body shape of her other arm quite well, which was attached to her body about a couple of inches below her shoulder. Where the skin met metal—tattooing that had once mirrored the pattern on her other shoulder cut off along with it—traces of a burned flesh telltale to that of a lightsaber still remained in the form of a clearly older scar.

"Oh, this? That story is ancient history, really." She hissed the words through gritted teeth as she quickly pulled it back from further poking. Her eyes kept locked directly with the pale yellow and red of the Sith's for an instant. Watching. Technically, it wasn't lying. It was certainly a story of ancient history. She needed to play this smart, with enough tact as she could manage—gauge the response and file the information away for later.

The way Anthemous's aura patterns shifted as she spoke—disdain, maybe, mixed with fear—made her eyebrow twitch upward ever so slightly. Given that it hadn't been there until she spoke of He made Azzie think that perhaps she, too, didn't have much love for the one in charge of her captivity. Her eyes shifted to the woman's hand that had ever so lightly tapped the metal of hers, time to test her theory.

"I think you and I both know Darth Carnifex wouldn't be gracious enough to replace it so soon even if he had."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

Chains and...?

"Oh?" she stifled a chuckle.

"No, none of that I'm afraid. I might have obliged you, once, but I'm quite spoken for now."

Anathemous glanced to the side, a thin smirk playing at her lips, knowing just how thoroughly Quinn Varanin would have destroyed this Jedi for such a comment. And the heap of trouble she'd have beeen in for her own response. Gods she loved how fierce that woman was.

"...anyway..."

The young Darth continued to watch as Azurine jerked back in her chains, noting the response to her invasion of personal space, even if it was only a meeting of steel. Could it feel as her arm once did? Or was she protecting the arm for another reason?

"I think you and I both know Darth Carnifex wouldn't be gracious enough to replace it so soon even if he had."

"No. Certainly not something so useful as cybernetics, at least." Her tone, her stare, took a faint bitterness to it.

Kaila carefully pulled up her sleeve, her fair and freckled skin strangely soft for a warrior's, as if pulled fresh from bacta. Her upper arm however was littered with scars, burns similar to Azurine's, separated from the smoother half by jagged stitch marks, each older than the last.

"Vat grown, though the reinforced bone was my doing."

She tapped her breastplate, producing that same double-metallic sound as before.

"I never realized one could forget how many time's they'd been delimbed, or how many arms have been grafted. But He's shown me a lot of things I thought impossible."

"For example..."

Her voice dropped into a murmured warning as she leaned closer.

"...how long flayed men can last before bleeding out." she stated, a fact as much as a threat.

"You would last longer than most, I think. I've come far with Dathomiri blood, I'm sure a full blooded Iridonian would survive, for a time. It would only prolong the suffering, the screaming. You'd probably be the first to see Him smile in quite some time."

She held her gaze upon Azurine's, even as she stood straight, gloved fingers laced behind her back.

There was a certain cruelty behind them in that they desired to stoke fear, but also an understanding. The kind only someone who'd worn those chains would know. The kind who had good reason to stoke such fears.


"You might be angry, or maybe you're hiding your fears. I don't care what you think of me but know this—"


"I am the one you want in here, not Him."

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

Touché. Azzie might have even had some respect for the quick retort if not for her dire situation.

"Oh, you thought—? No, I don't exactly swing that way myself, sorry. Might want to make sure you tell that partner of yours what you're into, though. Who knows, it could make you less—" She cut herself off with a pause that was more overdramatic than need be, looking for the right word. "Grouchy? Haunted? Eh, same difference." Her lips curled into a smirk, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Maybe in another life or another universe, perhaps they could have been friends.

Azzie let out a slow, measured breath, letting Anthemous's words settle over her like a heavy cloak she refused to wear. Flayed men. Bleeding out. Surviving just long enough to amuse some unseen nightmare lurking behind the scenes. It was the kind of threat designed to curdle the blood, to sink deep into the cracks of the mind and fester. There was something bitter in the Sith's voice, something worn, something familiar. That understanding in her eyes, the weight behind her words—it wasn't just posturing. Azzie hated that she recognized it. But that didn't make her any less dangerous.

"So, what, you're my 'guardian Sith' now?" She said dryly, shifting slightly against the cold durasteel. The chains rattled, like some old railway tune to remind her of how trapped she was, but she ignored it. "Funny way of looking out for someone—throwing around flaying threats like they're karking bedtime stories."

She was still alive, for now, but the question nagged at the back of her mind: why? Why hadn't they just killed her yet? There had to be a reason, some part of her that still mattered to them. Her thoughts couldn't quite seem to fully wrap around the answer, even if she had ideas that would make her blood run like ice if she allowed them to fester for too long.

"Better off with you or not still doesn't tell me what any of you actually want. Or are we just here for the lovely ambiance? Because if that's the case, I think I'd have to give it a pretty chit review and suggest a change in scenery." Azzie met Anthemous's stare, her own gaze unwavering.

Deep inside, she couldn't escape the creeping dread that clawed at the edges of her thoughts, but it was a battle, one that had less to do with their bodies and more with their wills. No, she had to be smart. If she could play off of a shared enemy, she might be able to use her influence to slowly calm the woman's emotions and eventually lull her to sleep... but she would have to be slow about it. Slow and methodical

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

"Hmh. Guardian sith."

That's a good one.

"That depends on how cooperative you are."

Her posture straightened as the jedi questioned her motives. It was true that Anathemous hadn't asked her questions yet, not the real ones. The grip on her own hand tightened as she paced a slow, quarter circle around Azurine, carefully considering her next words.

"He wants lots of things. Things I would prefer he not."

She came to a stop, leaning her broad shoulder into the wall.

"You wouldn't believe me if I explained my reasons for wanting to see you spared, so I'll put it this way; his fun is my anathema. The game we are here to play is satisfying just enough of his curiosities to extend your life."


"...and a few of my own." she hummed. "Call it a test, nothing harmful I should think."

She let the explanation hang between them, enough time to observe the girl's reaction. It was clear they played similar games, watching, waiting, planning their next move accordingly. Though caged like an animal, behind those amethyst eyes and crass remarks was a certain intelligence she could respect, suspecting her words were but a means to hide it.

This wouldn't be an easy game. She'd have to test her further.

"The empire would want me to ask questions of military importance. Whether you're aware of any Alliance data which made it offworld prior to flooding below, how your team knew where to strike the Mors, your time training under Grandmaster Noble, things like that."

"I however am after something more... personal."

Anathemous leaned in again, eyes narrowed.

"I'm told you fought Him. What did that feel like?"

All the while, that gaze began to take a similar hue to Azurine's. A power crept through the air, splitting from her form. The faint chill that had heralded her once now grew into something potent as it was ancient, even her own aura seeming to seep through whatever restraints had been put in place. She was no Carnifex, but even split in two, her partially revealed signature did his teaching credit.

And as she lifted her fingers towards Azurine, a translucent, hooded figure coalesced from her shadow, mimicking her movements.

Stealing it's power for herself, she began to pour it into their minds.


"...do not lie to me..."

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

Azzie barely heard her own breath over the sudden, crushing weight in the Force. Cold. Not just the chill of a frigid room, not the sterile bite of durasteel walls—but a deep, unnatural cold that slithered into her bones and stayed. It felt old, like something dug up from a forgotten graveyard, lingering where it shouldn't.

Her chains rattled as her muscles tensed, instinct screaming at her to move, to fight, but there was nowhere to go. Her violet eyes locked onto the translucent figure shifting into being behind Darth Anathemous. It mimicked her captor's movements, a shadow within a shadow, but it was wrong. There was something about it that sent her nerves sparking with alarm, something hungry in the way it stretched toward her.

What the hell is that?

Azzie clenched her jaw, forcing down the shiver threatening to betray her. Instead, she latched onto the words—because words were her weapon right now. The way she watched, the way she spoke in measured tones, waiting for a reaction. She did the same thing. She knew this game. That didn't mean she liked it.

"What's it feel like to ask stupid questions? I don't know why you're asking when it looks like you know from experience." She shot back, hiding the growing tremor deep inside her. The chains dug into her wrist as she instinctively flinched back from whatever was pressing against her mind. It wasn't a full invasion—no, that would've been too easy, right? Instead, it was something more insidious, more subtle. A trickle of power, laced with a warning.

"You want to know what it felt like?" Azzie scoffed, though her voice wasn't quite as steady as she would've liked. She pushed forward anyway, allowing her face to be inches away from the Sith's. Darth Carnifex , the warlord who had carved his name into the galaxy with blood and fire. The memories of that fight were still fresh in her mind, sharp and jagged like broken glass. Clawing at her mind, splintering an idea forward. "Well, have you ever tried to hold back a tidal wave with a bucket? Because it was kind of like that."

What if she wasn't strong enough? Her fingers twitched against the restraints, nails digging into her palms. The whispers were there again, curling at the edges of her mind while she forced them down, caging them away.

Azzie kept her eyes locked onto Anthemous, the fire in her own flaring with a wild blaze while she slipped the tattering glove off of her hand. Her words were harsh, laced with anger as well as her swift defiance, "You know what? If you want to know what happened that badly, then here, take a good farking look!" Like the zip of a spark, her hand whizzed forward to grasp onto the woman's outstretched wrist. Every second and every feeling was forced forward through that contact for the memories to play out before another's eyes. Anthemous was the one who had opened that mental door so wide, and she had said she wanted the truth; it was only fair that Azzie took a step through it.

Malicious compliance.

Spoiler

Linked abilities used to influence this (she's basically blending different aspects of many things, so these are the closest links I could find for reference)
Telepathy
Psychometry
Mind Probe (but in reverse)

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

The ancient mind eater's power coursed through them both. Not enough to feed the ghost of Darth Parasideus, who's insatiable hunger she'd shackled away long ago, but it was enough achieve her goal.

Too much.

Anger and defiance flashed before her almost quickly as Azurine moved, but nothing could have prepared her for the potency of these visions, strengthened by the power she sought to wield. Now it was being turned against her.

Caught by surprise, Kaila hadn't the mind to fight back the jedi's grip, only grit her teeth and shut her eyes.

She saw Him, from Azurine's eyes. Surrounded by metal shards and glass, they did nothing to stop His towering form. Kaila swore her teeth would burst if she clenched them any harder. Fear, anger, was it her own or the jedi's? Would it have mattered? Though far more potent than Azurine's, her hate would have seen the same results in her shoes.

The only thing saving her from that terror, was to feel that faint glimmer of hope Azurine once felt, knowing her comrades would survive for her sacrifice.

Were they not enemies, Kaila could have found it admirable.

But soon it gave way as the vision darkened, this ghost of Azurine's past falling unconscious as the dark lord loomed over her. And in it's similarities, Kaila found herself reliving her own.

"...stop it...!"

Every time He'd stood over her collapsed form, another bone broken until the Vahla's entire cartilage skeleton had been laid to ruin. The sting of a saber cleaved through an arm, the opposite of which she'd shown Azurine. The weightless feeling of suspension inside a bacta tank, glancing down at a fresh new arm, slowly regaining enough feeling to see just how sore the stitches were.

"...stop it! stop it...!"

The day she discovered He'd taken her memories.

The lengths she would go to protect her sister from Him. Her promise, that she would change the empire-

"ENOUGH."

Kaila opened her eyes as a second wraith formed beside her, fueling the strength to push on despite the horror. Her fingers splayed, and a wave of telekinetic energy she had long since mastered exploded outward as she recoiled.

She stumbled back, raising a hand towards her again as lightning crackled between her fingertips. The look in her eye was inhuman, a primal fear of something she could only be abated through focused violence. It wasn't Azurine she feared, nor even saw in that moment, just a source of nightmares chained to the wall. A fear to be viciously excised before it could hurt her or anyone else again.

But as she looked her in the eyes, her own began to soften.

They were not kind, just regretful.

Her hand dropped to her side as the lightning sputtered harmlessly till nothing remained, and Kaila held her head low a moment, as Anathemous took control again.

"So you do feel anger..." the young Darth stammered.

"Good...you will need it here."

She ran gloved fingers through her hair, standing straighter as she regained a bit of composure.

"But do not ever use it like that again."

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

Azzie's breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. Her body ached from the force of the telekinetic wave that had slammed into her, rattling her bones inside their chains, but none of that compared to the chaos storming through her mind. She saw it all. Not as memories, not as echoes of the past, but as if she were there again, trapped in a loop she couldn't escape.

Now, reliving it in her mind, she couldn't grasp onto that same hope from before. It slipped through her fingers like sand, leaving her to drown in the fear and rage that had been buried deep, kept caged where it couldn't take hold. And it wasn't just her memories anymore. Maybe that had something to do with it.

Anthemous's screams had overlapped with her own. Not spoken aloud, but felt and shared. Azzie had seen it—seen him standing over her too, breaking her again and again until there was nothing left but shattered bones and forced obedience. The pain, the helplessness. And that moment, that devastating moment when she had realized she wasn't even whole anymore. That something had been taken from her. The ice cold darkness krept over her, threatening to pull her under—

"ENOUGH!"

She was shaken from the visions, a tear having barely slipped past her defenses and down her cheek. Her hand jerked backward as if she'd stuck it in acid, followed directly by a jolt of pure pain from her front. Eyes of shifting purple went wide, her arms instinctively rising to shield her face and head as she flew backward across the cell. The momentum was broken quickly by the opposite wall, her body crumpling to the ground with a soft gasping groan. A metallic smell had returned anew, but frankly, she was just lucky there wasn't another fractured bone—not that she could feel anyway. Red spots slowly faded from her vision, tangled locks of short raven hair strewn across her face and the metal below.

She saw fear staring back at her. Not fear of her, but fear of what she represented—a mirror.

Azzie wanted to snap back, to throw another barb in defiance, but the fight had momentarily drained out of her. Not because of them, but because she was still clawing her way back from what she had just felt. She slowly moved her body to prop herself up on trembling elbows. "We could—could just leave... right now. Both of us." She muttered through the pain, but it was clear how genuine her words were even through the lingering rage. "You deserve better than this..."

She deserves your ire just as they all do!

Her gaze flicked to the metal floor, drops of her blood trailing her skin from the reopened gash on her forehead. That venomous voice that mimicked her own, dragging its shadows through her blood, continued to try to suffocate that light she grasped onto like it was all she had left. But as angry as she was, as hopelessly stubborn as her spirit somehow remained, she'd seen something of Kaila and that desperate passion to bring about something different for others that reminded her of herself. For better or for worse, she had yet to figure it out.

"D-don't be that chakaar's lapdog... don't make me into an enemy..."

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

<"Ni cuyir va a pe'nr."> she replied in crisp Mando'a.

"I haven't been since I led my planet in rebellion."

The wraith vanished like smoke as Kaila stepped forward, the sickly violet glow in her eye giving way to their usual gold.

"I'm not doing this for Him." She crouched down, brows furrowing, taking in the jedi's wounds.

"You're bleeding... I'm sorry."

From her belt, the young Darth pulled a pair of bacta patches out of her personal medpac, sliding the packaged remedy towards Azurine. Her attack was but a gut reaction, it seemed as though Kaila had no intention of hurting her when she entered.

"We want the same thing. To change the empire. The difference is, I am willing to play the long game that the Alliance seems too impatient to play. You cannot stop a war culture by fighting us, we'll only fight harder. You know this better than anyone, child of Iridonia."

"Change comes from within." she murmured almost mournfully.

"I don't want to make you my enemy, Azurine. Quite the opposite."

Kaila pinched her chin in thought. She was still analyzing the zabrak but not so coldly as before. Azurine had passed the test, she had potential in this new empire she was trying to build. Not because she was strong or because she thought the girl could become a monster, but because she was a jedi who felt anger, and passion. For all the horns about her head, she was quite human.

"I see a bit of myself in you... A fire."

"...one I think the jedi would see caged." she frowned, speaking as though she'd seen it before.

"But anger can be focused, made to serve you, instead of bottled."

Kaila reached out one last time, trying to trust her with it this once. Her fingertips glowed with a strange warmth, A magick that was neither light nor dark.

"Let me help you."

​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Disobedience

Outfit: Clothing | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Whatever she could hide in arm compartment

Azurine scowled, but there was a hint of confusion buried deep in the motion. Sorry? The woman who had just threw her into the wall such cold intensity—sorry? For some reason, it seemed to piss her off more than anything else, which mixed and warred with how moments ago she had been sad for her. Azurine's heart thundered in her chest, and a burning heat spread through her veins, rising like lava, threatening to explode in rage.

Go on, give in.

Shut up!

"I don't need your pity," she found herself snaping. She hadn't meant for the words to come out so harshly, but she couldn't help it. This offer, this act of odd kindness, it tore at her insides. It felt wrong. "Not like it would do me much good, anyway."

"I'm beginning to think you all need better talling points. If only I had a credit for every time I've heard that one by now." Azzie shook her head, though there was a malice in her voice that hadn't been there before mixed with her shortness of breath that slowly began to flit away as the seconds ticked on. "Someone told me a long time ago that just because my perspective was different from many Jedi of the time, didn't make it wrong... my fire isn't necessarily a bad thing, you're right, but Master Valery Noble has never tried to take that from me. None of them have."

"I don't want to make you my enemy, Azurine. Quite the opposite."

That sent a chill through her. She had to be lying. Yet... the patterns of her aura in the way she studied her—not like prey, not like an enemy, but something else entirely—told her otherwise. Her hand clenched around the bacta patches. She could feel the blood on her skin, the sting of the wound fading into the background of her thoughts. But it wasn't the pain that gnawed at her anymore—it was the doubt.

Azzie's gaze dropped, just for a moment, and she inhaled deeply while extending her hand to take that outstretched to her. When she met Kaila's eyes again, the fire was still there, but something else had settled beneath it. Something determined, yet also resigned. She knew what she had try, and she had to be quick.

She shifted slightly as if adjusting herself to sit more comfortably. In truth, she was centering herself. Reaching. The Force stirred at her call, tendrils of unseen energy weaving through the air. She wasn't strong enough to fight here—injured and highly outnumbered. There were other ways to win battles, though. She focused, letting the Force flow through her like a river, winding its way toward Kaila's mind. It wasn't an attack—not truly. A gentle nudge, a whisper against her senses.

Sleep.

Azzie had no illusions about what would happen if she succeeded. An almost apologetic spark flickered in her eyes, just for a moment, before she closed them. The punishment wouldn't fall on her—it would fall on Kaila. Carnifex would not forgive this lapse in judgment, this failure to contain her. At the same time, she knew full well she needed to get out of here by any means necessary. She wasn't even sure she was strong enough for it to work in the first place.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Azurine Varek

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"But anger is a path to the dark side, since when have jedi been allowed rage?"

"It's why I stayed-" her voice cracked.

It was why she'd ran from Ala Quin | Indra 's love the first time. And why Ala had left her in the end, she suspected. Kaila would have tried to make it work, she knew she would have, but always feared she could never become a jedi for all her hate and her need to fight. It was the only thing that made her feel alive then, beside her.

Her eyes widened with horror, and her fingers closed as she withdrew her hand.

She stood, and only made it a few steps before the thought sleep began to take her mind. So many thoughts she did not wish to think, so many regrets, and futures that may never be.

Had she made the wrong choice...?

She stumbled, then fell to her knee, metal bones and muscle thudding against the steel deck.

Darkness clouded the corners of her vision—

"Rise."
A thousand voices whispered all at once.


​

She'd fought back against the feeling, recognizing in some corner of her subconscious that it was foreign, that it felt so familiar to the things He had done to her.

Her eyes shot wide, unrecognizable, baleful violet flames. From them, four spirits came into being like wafting smoke. The hooded figure from before stood before Kaila, an empty void where his face should have been. Darth Parasideus might have smirked to see her bowed before him again, where it not for the indignity that he needed her to survive. Darth Nyto stood beside him, scowling down at the blonde. Darth Shin stood beside Kaila, his togrutan montral towering over the others, almost protectively. And the Sangnir, more like ash and burning embers given shape than a true ghost.

It was the first time she'd ever drawn power from all four of them at once.

Even without them, just the act of summoning all four put her full aura on display, a black anchor stubbornly clinging to all she had amidst the storm, unmoved by things that no mere knight of her station had any right to stand against. Combined however, the five had become the storm, and it's chill turned her heavy breaths to steam. Perhaps the Jedi would be proud, knowing that it took all this power to fight back her own.

Anathemous grit teeth, and slowly stood.

"That, Azurine," she regarded her over the shoulder.

Her gaze was inhuman, multiplied, as all the wraiths looked upon the jedi.

"...was a mistake."

​