Private Dust in the Wind

[Azurine Varek]

Desperation

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

The cold steel pressed against her back, a harsh contrast to the fevered heat still burning in her muscles. Azzie sat curled in the corner of the dark cell, her knees drawn up against her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The nightmares had woken her again—visions of blood, the clash of blades, and faces twisted in agony. Some were familiar. Others were not. But all of them felt real. Too real.

She clenched her jaw and forced slow, steady breaths through her nose. Her ribs ached with every inhale, a reminder of the damage still lurking beneath. Darth Anthemous, Kaila Irons , had at least seen to it that her smaller outward wounds wouldn't bother her outright while also inflicting some more whether either of them had liked it or not. The gashes on her head had stopped bleeding, the sting dulled by the patches on her temple, her arms, her side. But the pain hadn't left, it consistently remained.

Azzie shifted, biting back a groan as the dull throb in her shin flared back to life. Even in the dim red lighting of the cell, she could see the ugly bruising beneath the torn fabric of her pants. Probably still chipped. Not that it mattered much. Her attempts to break herself out thus far had proved less than eventful.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made the visions worse. The whispers of her nightmares clung to her mind like damp fog, creeping in from the edges, distorting everything. There had been something—someone—calling her name before she woke. A ghostly echo of voices from the past? Or something else? She couldn't be sure anymore. The lines between reality and dreams were growing harder to understand.

And Aadihr Lidos …

Her chest clenched painfully as she reached out again, instinctively, through that fragile and blooming, unseen tether. But there was nothing. No presence. Just an aching, yawning emptiness. It was hard not to acknowledge the irony in the fact that she had spent so long trying to ignore that tether, only to end up desperately searching for it. She had felt him slipping further and further away, like a fading star in the night, until there was nothing left to grasp onto. Much too far from her now, she guessed.

Azzie let out a ragged, guttural scream, her voice raw with fury and despair as she threw herself forward, yanking viciously at the chains that bound her wrists to the cold walls. Pain exploded through her arms, her muscles burning, her leg screaming in protest, but she didn't care. She wrenched against the restraints until her skin tore, blood smearing once again against the metal, her breath hitching in frantic gasps.

She turned her rage on the walls themselves, slamming her fists against the unyielding metal, over and over, knuckles splitting open with every strike. Every punch was a battle cry, a desperate bid to fight against the suffocating reality of this prison. When her strength finally failed her, she sagged against the cold, heaving, her body trembling, her vision swimming with tears she refused to shed.

You're losing yourself, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. If you were stronger, you'd be able to break past this without a second thought. It wouldn't matter what kind of telekinetic absorbing material it was made of.

Her breath hitched as she curled into a ball in the corner. Azzie glanced toward the door—no one. No shadows lurking just beyond the faintly buzzing plasma wall. No prying eyes. Only then did she allow herself to break.

For the first time since she found herself chained, A quiet sob ripped from her throat, muffled quickly as she buried her face into her arms. Sadness, desperation, and rage all rolled into one. Her shoulders trembled, but she forced herself to stay silent. If they saw this—if they saw her like this—force only knew what would happen. Yet, she couldn't stop the tears from slipping through her fingers or the way her body shook with the weight of everything she had lost. She had fought so hard. And for what? To end up here, trapped in the dark, battered and broken?

Footsteps.

Azzie's breath caught, and in an instant, the tears were gone. Her fingers wiped furiously at her damp cheeks before she pushed herself upright, leaning back against the wall as if she had never moved. Her face hardened, jaw tightening, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion dragging at her limbs. Whoever it was, whatever they wanted—she was ready. Or at least, she had to be.

Kirie​

 

[Kirie]

​

Kirie had heard the howling as she was descending the stairs, echoing up the long hallway, mingling with the sound of rattling chains. When Kirie heard it, she winced and stopped. She knew that noise. It was the sound of suffering, imprisonment. Something she'd heard before. Just as soon as the outburst began, it was over, and Kirie made her way carefully down the corridor, the sound of her booted footsteps echoing despite her best efforts to tread lightly. It was late, and there was nobody else about. Just her, and the prisoner.

In one hand, Kirie held a dark leather satchel, in the other a small plasteel case. She held both with a white-knuckle grip as she drew closer, and the shimmer of the plasmatic barrier entered her field of vision. Kirie had been nervous before, but the screams had made her terrified. Her knees shook as she stood outside the cell, peering at the figure draped in shadow inside, almost hidden save for a single dim interior light strip in the ceiling. For a moment, Kirie considered turning the lights up so she could see better, but she figured that would just hurt the woman's eyes. Instead, she stood still, her dark brown eyes just observing, for far longer than was comfortable.

Finally, discomfort overrode her nerves and Kirie spoke, her voice soft and quiet, echoing a little in the deserted space.

"Hello? My name is Kirie. I'm not here to hurt you."

Kirie shuffled forward to the control panel, fingers tapping lightly across the keys as she dismissed the shield barrier. The quiet hum of energy faded, leaving only the sound of their breathing. Kirie's: sharp and shallow, where Azurine's were laboured, and pained. When Kirie stepped inside the cell, she saw why.

"Oh, Stars"

When she had seen her though the shield, she couldn't make anything out, but she saw now, her eyes adjusting to the dim. Azurine was standing against the back of the cell, shackled to a bracket in the wall. Small rivulets of blood ran down her wrists over her hands, some of the streams beginning to thicken and dry. She stood upright not slumped, expression hard and stoic. Again, Kirie felt a flicker of fear, but it was overrode by concern and confusion. This was the prisoner that Kaila had been with? It couldn't be right, and yet, there was no other occupied cell on this level.

"I-uh." Kirie stammered. Never in the stories Kirie had heard about the Jedi had she imagined them looking like this, feeling like this. "I brought you some proper food."

Slowly, she lowered the box and satchel to the ground, accidentally bumping her saber which sat heavy and unfamiliar at her hip. It was the second time she had ever worn it, and it still didn't feel right. Kirie rifled through the satchel's contents until she retrieved a small container. It's contents were lukewarm at best, but it nevertheless filled the small cell with the scent of fried vegetables and grain noodles.

A thought occurred to her, and she turned her head to face the prisoner, a slight frown knitting her brow. Kirie hadn't really thought this through. For Azurine to eat, she'd have to work around the heavy chains. Kirie knew what that felt like. She supposed she could let her loose for a moment but...

"If I release your hands, you're not going to... Try anything, are you?"

Azurine Varek ​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Desperation

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

Azzie sat with her back against the corner, a scowl of defiance seemingly cemented across her face. The purples of her eyes shifted between hues of amethyst and lavender like the smoldering remnants of a campfire not yet extinguished. Her hair had long since fallen completely from its usual braids in a tattered heap that framed her face with the black of a raven.

She would have liked to say that she didn't so much as even twitch as the plasma wall was lowered for enough time that the young woman—Kirie—could enter, but in her silent defiance her body occasionally twitched from the exhaustion. Every muscle held taut despite the screaming ache that ran through her shoulders and down her spine. Even if she hadn't been bound, the exhaustion dragging at her limbs would've made a proper fight difficult. Not impossible, just... difficult.

"Funny," Azzie muttered, followed by a series of coughs that sent sharp stings through her chest, "Who knew any of you could actually be polite enough to introduce yourself first."

Her fierce gaze flickered over Kirie's form, sharp and searching. Her grip on the satchel, the slight tremor in her stance, the way she hesitated before speaking, accompanied by the spiking patterns flaring through her aura. Fear. But not the kind Azzie was used to seeing here. Not the cold, calculated fear of those who wield power like a blade and are terrified of losing it. This was different.

Azzie had encountered enough holders of the dark by now, their signatures twisting and seething with an intoxicating shadow. This Kirie, though? Kirie's presence was a contradiction that only made it that much harder for her to figure out the reality around her. A light of compassion threaded through her aura, with jagged edges of sorrow and something else—regret, maybe? Or was it grief? She wasn't completely sure.

She could be faking it. People could mask their auras; Azzie knew that. Who was to say someone couldn't alter theirs, mold it into something it wasn't? This could be a trick, a deception meant to lower her guard—another cruel joke. She couldn't help the dry laugh that escaped her lips, past the cracking skin of her lips.

The realization of just how hungry she truly was finally dawned on her the moment the smell hit her nose. It wasn't a subtle one either, more like a punch to the face, and her stomach twisted in knots, making audible grumbling sounds. So much for trying to play it off as if she was fine, her own body betraying her attempted resolve. It didn't even matter that she very likely would have a hard time digesting it, given that it was clearly plant-based. She'd been given the bare minimum to keep from starving to death for however long...

"If I release your hands, you're not going to... Try anything, are you?"

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do? Bite?" The words came out a bit more harsh than she would have liked. They were laced with her usual sharp sarcasm, but beneath that, she wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation. The idea of escape flickered in the back of her mind, a near-constant thought, but she would wait for the right moment. She had to be careful here. Her instincts screamed at her to strike and to twist this opening into something more, but there was still that pulse of warmth from Kirie, making her second guess the initial thought of using her as a pawn to escape.

Kirie​

 

[Kirie]

​

"Yeah." Kirie said softly. "I already know your name, so it's only fair." Kirie's face pulled into a tight, grim line. She thought she'd be ready for this, had told herself she would put on a brave face while she did something good. After all, it had taken a lot of effort to get down here, it would be a waste of both of their time if Kirie turned into a shaking blubbery mess. But when she looked at Azurine, all taut sharp and defiant in front of her, she couldn't help but think about when she'd been in that position, how she had pressed her lips together and refused to speak, despite the beatings and cruelty and the endless grey it all blended into. And now, Azurine found herself in the same trap, and Kirie was powerless to help her.

Mostly powerless, anyway.

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do? Bite?"

"I hope not?" Kirie offered. She knew enough about the Jedi in front of her to understand she was powerful and dangerous. She didn't really understand the Jedi. In the stories she heard at home, the Jedi were noble wanderers, but according to her friends here, these days they were a bloodthirsty army who would skewer her with a saber if they got the chance. Kirie didn't know what to make of that, but the only other Jedi she had met had ruined her life and ultimately caused her to end up a slave of the Sith. She did not regard them particularly highly.

Whether Azurine fit into those archetypes, Kirie wasn't sure. But, the way she struggled against her chains, the violence of her screams and the sharpness of her voice all put Kirie on edge, and that fear struggled against the sympathy she was feeling, leaving her feeling uncomfortable and confused.

Kirie hesitantly stepped a little closer, peering at the mechanism that secured Azurine's wrists, pursing her lips, obviously conflicted.

"I'm going to unlink one of your hands, alright?" said Kirie. "Just keep your arms by your side while I do." Kirie stepped out of the cell for a moment, returning to the panel on the outside wall. Azurine would her the quiet beeping as Kirie once again keyed in some kind of code. Kirie glanced up and down the empty hall. Was this a good idea? Probably not. Definitely not. But, it felt like the right thing to do.

Kirie moved inside again, conscious of how her steps were echoing in the space. It made her feel small. Alone. She wasn't alone, Azurine was right there. But that was the problem. She knelt by the Jedi and gently took hold of the shackle on her left wrist. The metal was surprisingly warm, no doubt from Azurine's struggling.

"Don't try anything. They know I'm down here." Kirie lied. "So if anything happens..." Was this even believable? Threats weren't really her strong suit.

With a metallic clink Kirie disconnected the shackle and it fell to the floor heavily, leaving one of Azurine's arms free. Hurriedly, Kirie placed the meal at her feet and stepped back as if she were about to be electrified.

Azurine Varek ​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Desperation

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

Azzie's voice was dry, her lips curling into something that could barely be called a smirk with her cracked lips and conflicted violet eyes, "What, do they pay you extra to act scared, or is that just a bonus for you?"

The girl was clearly jumpy—a little too jumpy. She stepped back like Azzie might hurl something at her, and honestly, the thought had crossed her mind. But as much as she hated this, as much as the chain still pulling at her right wrist made her want to lash out, she couldn't ignore the crack in Kirie's voice. Like even the act of loosening one shackle was some great rebellion. Azzie couldn't quite help the sympathy she felt in her chest.

Azzie barely moved as the shackle fell away, the sound of it hitting the floor echoing through the dim cell. Her newly freed arm tingled, stiff from the confinement, but she didn't stretch it. Not yet. Not when the girl's hands still lingered with the memory of a captor's touch, even if her eyes seemed to plead otherwise.

"You actually brought me food. How sweet. Guess I should say thank you, huh." The sarcasm practically dripped from her words, even if she was too ehxausted for it to land well, but even as she said it, something twisted in her chest. The girl looked like a kicked Loth cat, all wide eyes and fragile bravado. Why was she even here? Was this some twisted game the Sith played? Send in a trembling girl with good intentions and see if the prisoner cracked. She couldn't decide if that made it better or worse.

Azzie finally rolled her shoulder, working the stiffness from her arm. The air in the cell was stale, and the lingering burn of the restraint made her want to punch something—preferably someone. Instead, her eyes flicked down to the tray of food now at her feet, her stomach once again betraying just how hungry she really was by releasing a few loud groaning noises. There was a question that gnawed at her, though.

Why was she so willing?

The way Kirie flinched, like just being in this room was a punishment of its own—it didn't add up. She didn't look like some loyal lackey desperate to prove herself. She looked… trapped. A different kind of chain, one Azzie couldn't see.

"Don't try anything. They know I'm down here."

She paused, raising an eyebrow at the girl before her. Her words didn't match the way her aura spiked with her nervousness. Odd, she had never known a Sith that was that poor in the manipulation category. Then again, she was young, so maybe she was just inexperienced in it. Even then, it made her own eyes swim with confusion. Kirie had come all the way here, without telling anyone, for what? It couldn't be just to give her food, could it...?

"You're a chit liar, you know that?" She mumbled under a few quiet coughing laughs. "So, am I going to drop dead from this? No, actually, is there anything in it at all that shouldn't be?"

Kirie​

 

[Kirie]

​

"What, do they pay you extra to act scared, or is that just a bonus for you?"

Kirie's gaze darted back to Azurine with suspicion, and she narrowed her eyes. From what she understood, this was the Jedi who had snuck and then fought her way onto the Mors Mon. She had to have been extraordinarily strong, a fearsome foe who could easily dispatch Kirie if she wished, even diminished as she was. She was right to be scared of her.

And, beyond that, there was the fact that Kirie was even down here helping a prisoner in the first place. Since she had entered Quinn's orbit, she had inherited a lot of privileges, but Kirie wasn't sure that even the Princess of Eshan's station could protect Kirie if she was caught here. So yes, she was scared, exactly as scared as she was supposed to be.

"Maybe." said Kirie tersely. "If you weren't so hostile, I wouldn't be as nervous." That wasn't exactly fair. Azurine was a prisoner, and she didn't know Kirie. As far as she was aware, Kirie's presence in the cell was far more likely to be some sort of manipulation tactic, rather than actual generosity. "And nobody's paying me." she added, after a moment.

"You actually brought me food. How sweet. Guess I should say thank you, huh."

Kirie shrugged. "If you want." she said. She didn't know why Azurine was getting under her skin so easily but it was leaving her unsettled. Had she not been expecting this hostility? She had to a degree, but she'd also been so caught up in the idea of talking to somebody from outside the Sith, someone who's mind hadn't been melted by the endless dogmatic echo of their authority. Ever since being freed- or close enough- Kirie did not have much autonomy. She was still a servant after all, and reliant on the authority of Quinn or her friends to get around. When she did strike out and do something alone, as tonight, it was at great personal risk. No doubt if she were caught in here, for example, she would get a blaster bolt to the brain before the words "Quinn Varanin" even left her lips.

More than that, Kirie had been drawn into a net even the Princess of Eshan would struggle to break through. The Blackwall. Now in full effect. No outsiders were allowed in, and no Sith-Imperial citizen, least of all a nobody like Kirie, could ever. ever. leave. She was imprisoned here just as surely as Azurine, she just had a larger cage.

Even so, Kirie recognised that she was not the one who was chained and beaten, so she did her best to swallow her indignation and the urge to sprint out of the cell, and instead tried for kind neutrality. She wasn't totally sure if it landed.

"So, am I going to drop dead from this? No, actually, is there anything in it at all that shouldn't be?"

Doubt tugged at Kirie's mind once again. Back home on Weik, she'd always been considered untrustworthy, due to her tendency to hold thing close and hide her feelings. Here, everyone in her circle viewed her like a book to be read. Well, she didn't like that, her thoughts and feelings were like a diary. Private. Nevertheless the Jedi had seen right through her, just like all the Sith could.

"Here." said Kirie flatly. She sat down tentatively in front of Azurine and produced a pair of fragile chopsticks, swirling the noodles around until she had a heaping mound. They were lukewarm at best, but chewy and delicious. She gave a very dramatic swallow and for good measure, opened her mouth to demonstrate the bite was gone. "See?" said Kirie. "Just vegetables. Now seriously, before I eat the rest of it."

Kirie scooted back, giving both herself and Azurine room to relax a little without fear of the other hurting them. Sitting on the floor, she felt the cold and the damp sucking the life from her bones. This was an awful place, and Azurine had already been there days.

"I brought a medkit too." Kirie offered. Her eyes lingered on Azurine's raw wrists. "Could patch you up after you're done?"