Lyssara Thrynn
Little Fool
A few days ago, I was stung in the neck by my own caretaker, and I woke up in a strange facility. Judging by the banners and the medical devices present, there's no doubt that this place belongs to the Sith Order. There's an oppressive energy to the place, something cold and calculated in its very architecture.
My mind feels clouded, as if a thick haze of smoke has settled over my thoughts. I'm completely disoriented, unable to piece together why I'm here. Nyva, my servant, had caught me completely off guard an attack so sudden I had no time to react.
Even my clothing has been changed. My luxurious robes have been replaced by an austere, sterile patient's uniform, stark white and devoid of the elegance I'm accustomed to. My personal belongings, including my communicator, have been locked away in a small cabinet. For now, I have no means of contacting anyone or making sense of my situation. I can only sit here, slowly processing the grim reality around me.
A creeping sense of panic begins to well up inside me, clawing at my chest. My breathing grows erratic as my wide eyes search for answers in the reflection of a nearby mirror. There it is—a faint puncture mark on my neck, a clear sign of a syringe. I've been drugged. Intentionally. Then transported to this place, a facility whose purpose I can only guess at. A dark, sterile hospital under Sith control.
My thoughts spiral as the panic tightens its grip on me. I need to get out of here. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out reason. I bolt for the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor as I run. The hallway stretches endlessly before me, and for a brief moment, hope sparks. But then something grabs me tight, unyielding. I'm yanked back, my momentum crushed in an instant. I am not here by my volunteer. I have no ideas where i am! Let me out! I am fine!
I thrash wildly, desperate to escape, my screams turning into furious insults hurled at whoever or whatever has stopped me. But I'm quickly silenced as a tendril or maybe it's a vine wraps around my mouth, muffling my cries. The smell of something earthy and ancient fills my nostrils as I'm immobilized completely.
My heart races as I catch sight of my captor. A green creature looms over me, its form both organic and alien, covered in writhing vines and tentacle-like appendages. Its eyes are impassive, unreadable. It doesn't hurt me, but its grip tightens the more I struggle, pinning me in place with an almost gentle ruthlessness. Panic courses through me like a tidal wave, but I'm helpless against its hold.
I begin to realize resistance is futile. My body sags in defeat, and though my breathing is still ragged, I stop thrashing. For now, I remain still, glaring furiously around the room, silently seething as I try to make sense of what's happening.
The creature keeps me restrained, its vines coiling securely around me. My anger simmers beneath the surface, but there's something else too a deep, gnawing humiliation. My vision starts to blur as the weight of the panic threatens to overwhelm me completely. My breaths come in shallow gasps, my chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. My heart must be pounding like a war drum, a fact that any scan or monitoring device would surely confirm. The mental state they'd detect would be equally alarming a chaotic storm of fear, confusion, and raw fury.
I need answers. I deserve answers. Why am I here? What is this place? The longer I sit trapped in this humiliating situation, the more my frustration grows. Nyva, the one person I trusted, betrayed me set me up for this. A medical appointment? Here? For what? I'm in perfect health. I've never been stronger.
My thoughts race in circles, spiraling further into confusion and despair. My mind is a battlefield, questions echoing unanswered as I try to piece together this incomprehensible betrayal.
Madrona A’Mia
My mind feels clouded, as if a thick haze of smoke has settled over my thoughts. I'm completely disoriented, unable to piece together why I'm here. Nyva, my servant, had caught me completely off guard an attack so sudden I had no time to react.
Even my clothing has been changed. My luxurious robes have been replaced by an austere, sterile patient's uniform, stark white and devoid of the elegance I'm accustomed to. My personal belongings, including my communicator, have been locked away in a small cabinet. For now, I have no means of contacting anyone or making sense of my situation. I can only sit here, slowly processing the grim reality around me.
A creeping sense of panic begins to well up inside me, clawing at my chest. My breathing grows erratic as my wide eyes search for answers in the reflection of a nearby mirror. There it is—a faint puncture mark on my neck, a clear sign of a syringe. I've been drugged. Intentionally. Then transported to this place, a facility whose purpose I can only guess at. A dark, sterile hospital under Sith control.
My thoughts spiral as the panic tightens its grip on me. I need to get out of here. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out reason. I bolt for the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor as I run. The hallway stretches endlessly before me, and for a brief moment, hope sparks. But then something grabs me tight, unyielding. I'm yanked back, my momentum crushed in an instant. I am not here by my volunteer. I have no ideas where i am! Let me out! I am fine!
I thrash wildly, desperate to escape, my screams turning into furious insults hurled at whoever or whatever has stopped me. But I'm quickly silenced as a tendril or maybe it's a vine wraps around my mouth, muffling my cries. The smell of something earthy and ancient fills my nostrils as I'm immobilized completely.
My heart races as I catch sight of my captor. A green creature looms over me, its form both organic and alien, covered in writhing vines and tentacle-like appendages. Its eyes are impassive, unreadable. It doesn't hurt me, but its grip tightens the more I struggle, pinning me in place with an almost gentle ruthlessness. Panic courses through me like a tidal wave, but I'm helpless against its hold.
I begin to realize resistance is futile. My body sags in defeat, and though my breathing is still ragged, I stop thrashing. For now, I remain still, glaring furiously around the room, silently seething as I try to make sense of what's happening.
The creature keeps me restrained, its vines coiling securely around me. My anger simmers beneath the surface, but there's something else too a deep, gnawing humiliation. My vision starts to blur as the weight of the panic threatens to overwhelm me completely. My breaths come in shallow gasps, my chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. My heart must be pounding like a war drum, a fact that any scan or monitoring device would surely confirm. The mental state they'd detect would be equally alarming a chaotic storm of fear, confusion, and raw fury.
I need answers. I deserve answers. Why am I here? What is this place? The longer I sit trapped in this humiliating situation, the more my frustration grows. Nyva, the one person I trusted, betrayed me set me up for this. A medical appointment? Here? For what? I'm in perfect health. I've never been stronger.
My thoughts race in circles, spiraling further into confusion and despair. My mind is a battlefield, questions echoing unanswered as I try to piece together this incomprehensible betrayal.
Madrona A’Mia
