Even salt of the Earth hurts, when put in the wound...

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"If you need to ask Chev, of your worth, then you missed the entire point..." He knew her worth, her potential, yet it seemed her measurement of self came from the outward in. She had an aura that gave some irony to the darkness held behind green sockets, a ruler set against her self-worth for how people perceive her. Her shame, her guilt, those things turned to a burning need to prove herself. And therein lied the problem, she was pushing too hard into an area he once roamed. The area of bitterness and resentment and anger. That way leads to the darkside.

Grabbing her hand with his good hand, he lifted up to stumble against her. The back wasn't damaged but he had pulled the arm out of socket again, not inherently painful but enough to make him tense at the idea of putting it back in. Her well-being, the health of her spirit, was far more important. "No one can tell you whether you are worthy or not, that's entirely on you. If you continue to worry about what others think, for mistakes you've made in the past, you will never move forward." He pressed his finger against her chest, as if to remind of that strength they had once discussed. "When you prioritize destruction, you embody it. And you leave all of us in your wake, left to worry that every day may be your last." He couldn't tell whether he was lecturing her or lecturing himself, maybe a bit of both. But his mind wavered as his eyes drifted to his own finger, a collar around her neck that he hadn't noticed.

His finger drifted to it, pressing against the surgical steel, as he looked at her questioningly. "Chev...what is this?" He squinted, the onset of a headache, as the waves of pain radiated from the steel to his fingers through psychometry. Flashes of experiences, things he didn't need to see, he pulled his finger back like it had been bitten. He hadn't fully accepted the path Chevu had chosen, a life away from him and their children. He tilted his head, in a melancholy wave of understanding, as they drifted apart. That time between the cut and the bleeding, the wound was real now, and his eyes drifted to hers and the turmoil that lied beneath. Biting back emotion, he stepped away from her and shook his head, turning from her towards the frame of the entrance into the armory. Pressing his forehead against it, he reeled back and smacked his left shoulder against the frame. The pop and crack that followed, he let out a whisper of a yelp, as he shook his head. Was he alright. "No, I don't think I am..."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

When she saw Gabe stumble, she was instantly filled with remorse. He was still healing from his monumental fall from the sky during the Battle of Taloraan. Wrapping her arms around the Kiffar hybrid, she helped him to his feet, the darkside now a memory in her aura. When he lectured her, she didn't fight it. There was no need. She was horrified with herself for letting in the dark side, and terrified that it would happen again.

Then, he touched her necklace, the one given to her by Coren. With one touch of metal, Gabriel was privy to some of Chevu's most intimate details, ones that clearly showed how badly the Mirialan Jedi had fallen for Starchaser. The necklace was vibrant with both giver and recipient's deep need for each other, bodies entangled, and reptilian brains engaged. He released her and backpeddled, banging his shoulder against the doorway of the armory. A wince pained her face as she reached out to him again.

"Gabe...I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier about Coren."

She cared for Gabriel more than he'd ever know, and knew she was hurting him by trying to hold on to him. It was hard for her to let go of people once they had hooks in her heart. As a child she'd been robbed of her family, and made to serve others. It had damaged her more than she ever realized. Until now. So selfish of you, Chevu. You have to let him go.

Babies that would only resent their biological mother's choices. A former lover whose wounds would be reopened at the sight of her. She didn't want to stay away, but maybe it was for the best.

"Perhaps I should stay away from Sulon," Chevu offered. It sounded good in her head, but once spoken, she realized the words were hollow.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Apologies..." He stepped away from the frame, pressing his previously dislocated arm forward, hand against the frame. Looking up towards the frame, he sighed. "What good are they?" He couldn't get the visions of her and Coren out of his mind, he'd take a drill to the skull to try and dig them out, if he thought it would help. He cursed that racial propensity for looking back and forward, uncontrolled in his time of pain. He knew his expression was darkened from the vision, the very thought of it stirred an uneasiness within him as he tried to cleanse his mind of it.

He thought about the visions he had placed in the ring, the thought of snow falling upon fresh footsteps. The slow melt in the days sun, the smile and laugh of a woman who had loved him from the very beginning. To the very end, he tensed at the thought, lingering back on visions that brought turmoil. He'd rather walk the burning path of his past, footsteps melting in the snow, as fire billowed from house. He'd rather go through that, then see her mingling with her master once more, locked to a slaves collar upon a former slave, touched by a man who had been a slave his entire life. That cut far deeper than he could have imagined.

Steadying himself, he shook his head, seeking harmony as he longed for these moments to be just another memory. "I love you, Chev..." He turned from the frame, focusing on her, looking past the taint of corruption she had drawn into his house. But among all the news of this day, the revelations, the compartments were overfilling. "And I always will. But..." He looked away from her, towards the floor. Before she had arrived, he felt strong and well, and now the creep of weakness attempted anchor towards bottling up the truth for the sake of not causing anymore harm. But he couldn't allow it, his injured left hand lifting to her Mirialan tattoo. "You risked the lives of everyone around you. Your anger could have brought down the whole homestead upon us, our children and Ava among the rubble." What was a darkened expression turned soft as he pressed palm against cheek, missing whatever happier times they may have known. Or maybe it was nostalgia for the hope of a life, one that would never come to bloom. "When you are ready to admit your corruption, I will help you in its removal. If not me, then someone else. But until then...you aren't welcome here."

He breathed out, not sure the words would solidify into something recognizable. He smiled, a genuine expression for the care he held for the woman. Eyes stricken by the pain of necessity. "Take the ring and the hilt with you. It would make me happy to know they are safe in your possession."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

What good would it do to get defensive? To vehemently insist that she was not corrupted? She was fine. Just a momentary flare of the dark side. She had it under control. Master Oomomo once said to her that part of being a Jedi was accepting that the path was a never-ending series of trials. His words were personified as she stared at Gabriel. He wanted her to keep away. From him. From her babies.

"Gabriel, this isn't fair," she said. Instantly, the words sounded to her like those more fit for a whiny child than a Jedi Knight. "I need to be able to see the twins sometimes."

A long sigh came as she felt his thumb drawing a line over her geometric tattoos. "And you."

The Mirialan slipped the ring on her finger. A perfect fit. With a turn of her head, the lightsaber hilt flew into her hand. She clipped to to her magnetic gear belt, then raised her gaze to him.

Green-skinned hands found his torso as she moved in for an embrace. She didn't know if would be reciprocated, but the Mirialan needed a more physical expression of emotion.

"Please don't make me stay away."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He winced, a silent grunt, as he wrapped his arms around her. Had she been hasty in her suggestion? Had he been hasty in his declaration, in this entrapment to get at his own curiosity? That when he saw the single geyser push out steam, he would force the volcano to erupt and punish it for the prodding? Her relationship, her feelings, it muddied the water. But in the same way, muddied water wont clarify without help. And in the end, who would understand her proclivities better than a man once trapped in a body with a much darker affliction.

He felt his sense of self-righteousness, the judgment of her actions and what caused them, all the negative and condescending appraisal - he felt it all whither way in her embrace. He still felt the creep of memories not his own but she wasn't his to have, her decisions weren't his to make. Now, more than anything, she needed friends. Not their spurs and urging for progression. At least, she didn't need it from him. Their relationship was confusing enough as it was without him punishing her for the same mistakes he had made in his life. Even with the extenuating circumstances, he was as much to blame as her. Though his concern for her actions were still ever present, perhaps temperance and positive interaction was the remedy. They both were now aware of the problem. That was the first step.

Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he inhaled and thought. He never felt quite so disarmed, even in a body that once wasn't his own.

"We should check on the oven..." He tilted his head, pulling his lips away to look at her and all the painful expressions that might paint her face. He would return a smirk, trying his best to not notice the slave collar or recall what he had seen. He shouldn't have touched it, it wasn't his place. "We can talk about this later..." He pushed a bang from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. "When we've had time to digest it." He wasn't sure if that was a suggestion for her or for him. Either way, he'd attempt to pull away and press against the small of her back, his other hand gesturing back up the stairs to the kitchen. "Maybe I can convince you to try the heart?"

[member="Chevu Visz"]​