Mikhail Shorn is now offering 100,000 credits for the entity formerly known as Zaiden. Dead.
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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How to turn in a mass murderer...
- Thread starter Matreya
- Start date
The Admiralty
As the events unfolded themselves quite neatly, the Lord of the Fringe finally disentangled himself from the shadows of the alcove he was standing in. A fire burned in his eyes, as he looked at all the people still here in the room. It had been quite some time, before he finally had found himself back here, and immediately after stepping foot on Confederation soil… Zaiden was at it again.
“Mikhail.”
He said with a curt nod, as he thought about what he had just seen.
“So… wait. This guy tries to sent an army of dead people against us. We kill him for that, then he manages somehow to resurrect himself and………… expects we will just welcome him with open arms?”
A smirk played on his face, as he continued.
“I think he was confusing multiple personality disorder, with a simple mental impairity. Also, can someone please tell me how he kark he escaped again? Sweet Baby Force, he has more escape tricks than the Illusionist Master Houdinius.”
“Anyway, I offer a million credits for Zaiden frozen in carbonite. Gentlemen, ladies; it was a pleasure. Anders, let’s go.”
[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Kasamann"] @Everyone else
“Mikhail.”
He said with a curt nod, as he thought about what he had just seen.
“So… wait. This guy tries to sent an army of dead people against us. We kill him for that, then he manages somehow to resurrect himself and………… expects we will just welcome him with open arms?”
A smirk played on his face, as he continued.
“I think he was confusing multiple personality disorder, with a simple mental impairity. Also, can someone please tell me how he kark he escaped again? Sweet Baby Force, he has more escape tricks than the Illusionist Master Houdinius.”
“Anyway, I offer a million credits for Zaiden frozen in carbonite. Gentlemen, ladies; it was a pleasure. Anders, let’s go.”
[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Kasamann"] @Everyone else
Yasha Cadera
Mom'alor
My finger's on the trigger of my blaster, I level it up at the centaur as another wave of indecency rocks me. I'm a ship in a gravity well, bucking wildly to get away from the pull. Three Sith Lords, the Unicorn and little me in the middle. Mikhail's sheer charisma is enough to tweak me to the side of my chosen line. I huff, my eyes lose some of their quality as I nod to [member="Mikhail Shorn"].
All at once the centaur escaped. I must have zoned, halfway into the symbiosis when his exit snapped me back. "Did… yeah he s--" Shoes hitting the pavement, their gait as familiar as my own breathing, strike into the depths of my spine. [member="Jared Ovmar"]. I'm looking straight at Mikhail as my eyes flicker again, my face twitching in a hallowed disbelief as the associated memory of Mikhail killing Jared plays in my conscious mind again. "J-Jared." I drop my gun, Bucket salutes and stands down for its true Master. "Yeah, pretty much."
How is this possible? Jared's mind was completely dead to me, and there he is waiting in the shadow until the moment comes and I wheel around. The void unsettles my spine, twisting my comfort out vertebrae by vertebrae, and there am I nearly rushing him. My lips work, I turn and stand straight in front of the Lord of the Fringe and my lips shut. 'I felt you die. Your legs… I felt you end. You're alive.'
One foot in front of the other, I walk the stray distance to Jared's side. My eyes don't drift from his face, his shoulders. "Coming, Jared. See you around, Lucien, Shinju, M-Mikhail. I'm going with Jared."
All at once the centaur escaped. I must have zoned, halfway into the symbiosis when his exit snapped me back. "Did… yeah he s--" Shoes hitting the pavement, their gait as familiar as my own breathing, strike into the depths of my spine. [member="Jared Ovmar"]. I'm looking straight at Mikhail as my eyes flicker again, my face twitching in a hallowed disbelief as the associated memory of Mikhail killing Jared plays in my conscious mind again. "J-Jared." I drop my gun, Bucket salutes and stands down for its true Master. "Yeah, pretty much."
How is this possible? Jared's mind was completely dead to me, and there he is waiting in the shadow until the moment comes and I wheel around. The void unsettles my spine, twisting my comfort out vertebrae by vertebrae, and there am I nearly rushing him. My lips work, I turn and stand straight in front of the Lord of the Fringe and my lips shut. 'I felt you die. Your legs… I felt you end. You're alive.'
One foot in front of the other, I walk the stray distance to Jared's side. My eyes don't drift from his face, his shoulders. "Coming, Jared. See you around, Lucien, Shinju, M-Mikhail. I'm going with Jared."
Shorn's eyes narrowed on the retreating backs of Jared and Anders. The kid moved like he was entranced. And Jared... Jared showed up just to show up. Shorn felt the surprise of the kid at that. Confusion and... something else. Mikhail was no empath, but he could smell something rotten in the state of Jaredland.
The newly resurrected mentalist master had spent a long time in Mikhail's head. They knew each other intimately. Shorn had never known anyone that fully. The fact that Jared, who he killed, had managed to breach his defenses and lodge himself in his consciousness didn't exactly sit well with a man who thought of his thoughts as his one sanctuary from all the chaos around. So when he felt the currents of the Force shift in interesting ways around Jared, he knew Warble-Glorier or whatever he called himself was up to something.
"Anders," his voice was cool and smooth, full of a dark charming magnetism that had nothing to do with the Force and everything to do with Mikhail's personality. Charismatic, confident, and... impulsive. It was on the last of these that Shorn acted. He caught up to the two, smiling winsomely at Anders as he moved toward his own ship and beckoning with a nod of his head. "My yacht is closer. How about I give you a ride off this hell hole and back to the capital?"
Memories danced through his mind from a time when his mind had melded with Jared's. The experience had been traumatizing and Mikhail still bore the mental scars, but he remembered something that stood out clearly to him now.
Ah.
He saw the game Jared played now.
A telepathic message washed against the mind of Anders Sivas. "Or should I say, Andra?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbGxnQXIOgI&feature=kp
[member="Anders Sivas"]
The newly resurrected mentalist master had spent a long time in Mikhail's head. They knew each other intimately. Shorn had never known anyone that fully. The fact that Jared, who he killed, had managed to breach his defenses and lodge himself in his consciousness didn't exactly sit well with a man who thought of his thoughts as his one sanctuary from all the chaos around. So when he felt the currents of the Force shift in interesting ways around Jared, he knew Warble-Glorier or whatever he called himself was up to something.
"Anders," his voice was cool and smooth, full of a dark charming magnetism that had nothing to do with the Force and everything to do with Mikhail's personality. Charismatic, confident, and... impulsive. It was on the last of these that Shorn acted. He caught up to the two, smiling winsomely at Anders as he moved toward his own ship and beckoning with a nod of his head. "My yacht is closer. How about I give you a ride off this hell hole and back to the capital?"
Memories danced through his mind from a time when his mind had melded with Jared's. The experience had been traumatizing and Mikhail still bore the mental scars, but he remembered something that stood out clearly to him now.
Ah.
He saw the game Jared played now.
A telepathic message washed against the mind of Anders Sivas. "Or should I say, Andra?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbGxnQXIOgI&feature=kp
[member="Anders Sivas"]
Yasha Cadera
Mom'alor
Alive and seemingly intact, [member="Jared Ovmar"] is back on this slip of a planet. Why did he wait in the shadows? Why didn't he contact me? Couldn't he feel me searching? Weeks in my Meditative Chamber searching for the familiar bastion of the Lord Ovmar and he shows up unawares and insensible. Jared's mind isn't open.
I'm captivated by the nonchalance in which he treads, my dark redeemer, and as the situation with Zaiden passes I go to reach for Jared's hand. Mischief abounds in the air, I feel the distinct causeway of [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s damaged, fragmented mind. "No, Jared's hh--kk."
I stop short as he speaks to me. Mikhail speaks. "H-hey, ah, Jared wants me … to..."
'How did you know? How do you know who I am?' My mind is still wracked with the confusing swell of Sith Lord emotions, and charisma is intense enough to muddle my brain. Maybe it would be different if I could feel Jared's mind. 'Jared, he knows. How does he know?'
I can't afford for Mikhail Shorn to blow my cover. Not here, and not with the Councillors around. I turn slowly toward Mikhail, my lips shut in a thin line. 'Don't do anything drastic, Mikhail. We've had enough already don't you think?'
I'm captivated by the nonchalance in which he treads, my dark redeemer, and as the situation with Zaiden passes I go to reach for Jared's hand. Mischief abounds in the air, I feel the distinct causeway of [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s damaged, fragmented mind. "No, Jared's hh--kk."
I stop short as he speaks to me. Mikhail speaks. "H-hey, ah, Jared wants me … to..."
'How did you know? How do you know who I am?' My mind is still wracked with the confusing swell of Sith Lord emotions, and charisma is intense enough to muddle my brain. Maybe it would be different if I could feel Jared's mind. 'Jared, he knows. How does he know?'
I can't afford for Mikhail Shorn to blow my cover. Not here, and not with the Councillors around. I turn slowly toward Mikhail, my lips shut in a thin line. 'Don't do anything drastic, Mikhail. We've had enough already don't you think?'
The Admiralty
Oh Mikhail. Never change.
When I had forced myself into his mind, an absorption of memory took place. Since that moment I know everything there is to know about him, and in return… he knows everything there is to know about me. It was a two-way deal, can’t stop it sadly. So it was not surprising he had figured out Anders’s real identity.
Didn’t really matter now though. What did matter was that he was trying to infringe upon my Andra. Mine.
Even now I could feel his natural being seduce and attract her, his vampiric nature made it only that much easier and as I closed my eyes I could feel him reaching out to her. ‘Course, I didn’t know what exactly he said, but then her mental touch hit me like a brick.
Oh Andra.. forgive me for what I have done to you.
Softly I reached out with my power, the power of a true Mentalist Master and I attempted to wrap her inside of my calming storm. Together we would be the eye of the proverbial hurricane of power.
Apathy still reigned, my feelings were cut off from me. A clean and burned disconnection, which made it that much harder for me to relate to other people. But it did do nothing to my memories, I remembered everything I had ever shared with my Andra and even though the feelings were no longer there to support the visions that appeared in front of my mental eye… I knew.
I knew I had to protect her from everything that wished her harm. Even if it was my own persona who wished to inflict upon her the dread and pain of a thousand screamings souls puffing out into nothingness.
I was calm.
I was center.
I was the heart of the pack.
In the face of Mikhail’s glib and seductive nature, I was a tree anchored in the living earth. I was the ocean, calm and chaotic in a tsunami of paradox.
I showed her this, and presented her with the choice. While offering my own hand in answer to hers.
When I had forced myself into his mind, an absorption of memory took place. Since that moment I know everything there is to know about him, and in return… he knows everything there is to know about me. It was a two-way deal, can’t stop it sadly. So it was not surprising he had figured out Anders’s real identity.
Didn’t really matter now though. What did matter was that he was trying to infringe upon my Andra. Mine.
Even now I could feel his natural being seduce and attract her, his vampiric nature made it only that much easier and as I closed my eyes I could feel him reaching out to her. ‘Course, I didn’t know what exactly he said, but then her mental touch hit me like a brick.
Oh Andra.. forgive me for what I have done to you.
Softly I reached out with my power, the power of a true Mentalist Master and I attempted to wrap her inside of my calming storm. Together we would be the eye of the proverbial hurricane of power.
“I have left you, and for that I am sorry. Much there is to tell you, but not here and not now.”
Apathy still reigned, my feelings were cut off from me. A clean and burned disconnection, which made it that much harder for me to relate to other people. But it did do nothing to my memories, I remembered everything I had ever shared with my Andra and even though the feelings were no longer there to support the visions that appeared in front of my mental eye… I knew.
I knew I had to protect her from everything that wished her harm. Even if it was my own persona who wished to inflict upon her the dread and pain of a thousand screamings souls puffing out into nothingness.
I was calm.
I was center.
I was the heart of the pack.
In the face of Mikhail’s glib and seductive nature, I was a tree anchored in the living earth. I was the ocean, calm and chaotic in a tsunami of paradox.
I showed her this, and presented her with the choice. While offering my own hand in answer to hers.
"Who, me?" Mikhail's smile hinted toward the predatory.
"Oh, Jared will be fine." He turned that smile on Ovmar. If one searched hard enough one could find something venomous and spiteful shining in the depths of his eyes, which were returning to their icy blue.
The Thronebreaker noted the hand that stretched out to hold another hand. His nostrils flared slightly. Mikhail's bodily senses were more... alert after his metamorphosis into a full-blooded Garhoon. He stepped lightly toward Anders, finally noticing the tells in the features of the twenty-something. He could see it now and his mind put the last pieces of the puzzle into place.
Mikhail blinked. Slowly. Lazily. Perhaps it was a wink? Who could tell? Where Jared Ovmar was the rooted oak, Mikhail was the shifting sands. His rage came like storms, furious and unrelenting; his smile fleet as the wind, causing a stir in the thickets of all hearts and in an instant, gone; his love a wildfire, untamable, unquenchable and as brilliant as the sun.
Passionate would be the word others would use to describe Mikhail. Mercurial. Violent, yes, but exciting. Thrilling. He took a joy in life that few others could. For all his inner brooding, the exterior Shorn presented was vibrant and adventurous, a consuming flame that threatened to burn him alive, but still he dared to burn. Only the good die young. What a lie. No, he was not good, nor wholly evil. But he was alive.
Jared's apathy contended with Shorn's inner inferno of hate, lust, love, sorrow, and scattered bits of fleeting pleasure. These were what fueled Mikhail. They were what gave him the strength in the Force that made others quail. And to an empath, he would shine like a thousand suns.
The raven-haired Garhoon held a finger to his lips. "Shh, your secret is safe. But I have so many more... of Jared's. Keeping them up here is so boring... If you want to hear, all you have to do is ask. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Then he really did wink.
"Oh, Jared will be fine." He turned that smile on Ovmar. If one searched hard enough one could find something venomous and spiteful shining in the depths of his eyes, which were returning to their icy blue.
The Thronebreaker noted the hand that stretched out to hold another hand. His nostrils flared slightly. Mikhail's bodily senses were more... alert after his metamorphosis into a full-blooded Garhoon. He stepped lightly toward Anders, finally noticing the tells in the features of the twenty-something. He could see it now and his mind put the last pieces of the puzzle into place.
Mikhail blinked. Slowly. Lazily. Perhaps it was a wink? Who could tell? Where Jared Ovmar was the rooted oak, Mikhail was the shifting sands. His rage came like storms, furious and unrelenting; his smile fleet as the wind, causing a stir in the thickets of all hearts and in an instant, gone; his love a wildfire, untamable, unquenchable and as brilliant as the sun.
Passionate would be the word others would use to describe Mikhail. Mercurial. Violent, yes, but exciting. Thrilling. He took a joy in life that few others could. For all his inner brooding, the exterior Shorn presented was vibrant and adventurous, a consuming flame that threatened to burn him alive, but still he dared to burn. Only the good die young. What a lie. No, he was not good, nor wholly evil. But he was alive.
Jared's apathy contended with Shorn's inner inferno of hate, lust, love, sorrow, and scattered bits of fleeting pleasure. These were what fueled Mikhail. They were what gave him the strength in the Force that made others quail. And to an empath, he would shine like a thousand suns.
The raven-haired Garhoon held a finger to his lips. "Shh, your secret is safe. But I have so many more... of Jared's. Keeping them up here is so boring... If you want to hear, all you have to do is ask. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Then he really did wink.
Not Ordo
Just under the upper hand.
SOMEWHERE NO WHERE NEAR KASAMANN
Gavin smiled at the woman beside him at the bar. His brown eyes slightly glazed from a few hours/days of drinking heavily. He took yet another sip of a whiskey and relished the refreshing coolness of the liquid as it poured down his throat. The burning that it at one time may have produced was no longer a concern as he reached up and move a stray hair from the woman's face.
"So yeah why don't we get out of here and I'll show you my ship?" he said smiling.
"Ok" She said after a token moment of hesitation.
Together they got up and he fist bumped the bar tender behind the woman's back as the walked out the door.
Gavin smiled at the woman beside him at the bar. His brown eyes slightly glazed from a few hours/days of drinking heavily. He took yet another sip of a whiskey and relished the refreshing coolness of the liquid as it poured down his throat. The burning that it at one time may have produced was no longer a concern as he reached up and move a stray hair from the woman's face.
"So yeah why don't we get out of here and I'll show you my ship?" he said smiling.
"Ok" She said after a token moment of hesitation.
Together they got up and he fist bumped the bar tender behind the woman's back as the walked out the door.
Yasha Cadera
Mom'alor
Wisdom is a sensitive flower in increasingly horrific winds, one continues to expect it to crumble and disseminate, for the component reason and groping emotions to flutter off a petal at a time until naught is left but the memory of actions taken and thoughts received.
I'm standing in a courtyard in thrall. Two powerful men shift and bend the miasma of my dreadful disadvantage between their claws and call the bluff of a blind man. [member="Mikhail Shorn"] is as tempestuous and shifting as a dragon in a colosseum's ring. He opens his wide jaws and the fire which resides at the back of his throat burns into my cheek and up through my forehead like acid on tin. Going with Mikhail would give me answers. It would give me the keys to unlock why [member="Jared Ovmar"] feels distant and waning. Going with Mikhail would be like going with a hideous version of myself: mutable and passionate. My mind slips sideways and attaches to Shorn, as the eager and growing Mentalist. It unfurls like a rare centennial flower, whose hundred year wait to blossom makes beggars of grown men and gardeners of women. I can do nothing but attempt the repair, as my consciousness gives Mikhail a terribly secret gift: if his guard fell, if he took to a tender moment, if he stepped to the side and let me grab my footing, I would heal the wounds in his mind one, by one, by one.
'I cannot join to a mind without the will to heal it.' And then I understand. My mouth opens and I inhale sharply. [member="Sargon Vynea"] had been teaching me to see the vast spread of my tumbling symbiotic nature with the clarity of a universal perspective. He forced me in a corner and taught me to be strong, to be calm as a field of grass, and I was on the edge of a discovery which would give purpose to the past and future life.
I don't symbiose with the strongest personality in the area. I symbiose with the one my subconscious knows I could heal. Watching his ice blue eyes as his thoughts linger like secrets in my mind, I come to a greater conclusion that given the moment and the power, I could heal Mikhail Shorn. Given the moment and the power. I know now that if I went with Mikhail, I would be a forfeit bit of eccentric pastime. He would grow bored, or angry, or turn his head and the connection would sever before I'd had the chance to ply my healer's trade in earnest. In the fluttering causeway of my mind, I let him see it - that redemptive chance given to me first by Spencer, folded in the gauze of future intent and left in the entry to his mind. Even to him, the man who caused the shift in Jared, the man who killed him, the man who hung me from a tower. To Mikhail I grant the potential of grace, and yet what grace is left in my own mind is sullied by this new vision of my lover, whose emotions feel cold and yet protective and calm.
'I can't go with you, Mikhail I'm not ready yet. The weight of your conscience would rip my mind apart, before I had the chance to get used to it. I would show you a great many things. Come find me. Trade secrets for secrets, but not now. Now I still feel your fingers round my neck. I feel the crushing weight on Jared's legs in the moment he lost. Where do you think that pain went, Mikhail? Between the moment and the shuddering death?' My hand drifts to the mental bruise of Mikhail's protective stunt, he thought he was helping Lucien maintain his future marriage. It was a valiant action for such a breaker of thrones. But that action's consequence was a greater break in the causeway of my life.
Jared's calm protection hems me in and my eyelids flutter. It is the lover returning to the marriage bed to see a incubus between the sheets, whose snapping fingers and crackling jaws promise shielding from the fires of hell. The searing pain wracks my legs again, but now I understand it. Shorn must have shattered both of them in one go. The moment of doubt, the moment where Jared saw his own death in Mikhail's ice blue eyes, the crux point fell like a hammer to a nail, and part of me is stuck within it - locked in place by the death throes of a passionate fantasy that - that love may endure any injury or distance or time. The rims of my eyes redden and in the fortress of the Storm, I am held by a shadow of a once all encompassing affection.
Jared's fingers feel like sandpaper covered in frost. 'You asked me once why I wasn't there, why I hadn't come sooner in your scarred and vengeful life. I'm here now, and we can overcome.' My faith had been a shambles when Jared had left me on Annaj to go off on his private adventures. I had been a young woman with the beginnings of confidence building upon my thin frame like the muscle and healthy weight I'd gained since joining as Jared's companion in the Penthouse and his bed. Months of happiness, of bonds tenured with mutual benefit and faith purse through my memories, and I cherish each one.
That confidence faltered, yet the bedrock on which it stands is built up with a grounding I simply didn't have, when he left. I've grown. When I took his hand, I felt the shutter-gate crash on the feelings of others in this place for the absolution of Jared's inner protection. He thinks he will not hurt me, or at least it seems not as much as others. I have bent like the willow, but never broken.
I have felt my lover end as keenly as feeling my own and have not turned away. I am becoming the bond which holds the universe in a sway both delightful in its beauty and stalwart in its strength. Trained and protected, I have the capacity to become the Weaver herself, Goddess of Destined Chances. One hand in Jared's, the other slips in my pocket to anchor my walking feet. "Are we going home, Jared? I.. I want to go home."
The pain in my legs is searing. What have I done?
I'm standing in a courtyard in thrall. Two powerful men shift and bend the miasma of my dreadful disadvantage between their claws and call the bluff of a blind man. [member="Mikhail Shorn"] is as tempestuous and shifting as a dragon in a colosseum's ring. He opens his wide jaws and the fire which resides at the back of his throat burns into my cheek and up through my forehead like acid on tin. Going with Mikhail would give me answers. It would give me the keys to unlock why [member="Jared Ovmar"] feels distant and waning. Going with Mikhail would be like going with a hideous version of myself: mutable and passionate. My mind slips sideways and attaches to Shorn, as the eager and growing Mentalist. It unfurls like a rare centennial flower, whose hundred year wait to blossom makes beggars of grown men and gardeners of women. I can do nothing but attempt the repair, as my consciousness gives Mikhail a terribly secret gift: if his guard fell, if he took to a tender moment, if he stepped to the side and let me grab my footing, I would heal the wounds in his mind one, by one, by one.
'I cannot join to a mind without the will to heal it.' And then I understand. My mouth opens and I inhale sharply. [member="Sargon Vynea"] had been teaching me to see the vast spread of my tumbling symbiotic nature with the clarity of a universal perspective. He forced me in a corner and taught me to be strong, to be calm as a field of grass, and I was on the edge of a discovery which would give purpose to the past and future life.
I don't symbiose with the strongest personality in the area. I symbiose with the one my subconscious knows I could heal. Watching his ice blue eyes as his thoughts linger like secrets in my mind, I come to a greater conclusion that given the moment and the power, I could heal Mikhail Shorn. Given the moment and the power. I know now that if I went with Mikhail, I would be a forfeit bit of eccentric pastime. He would grow bored, or angry, or turn his head and the connection would sever before I'd had the chance to ply my healer's trade in earnest. In the fluttering causeway of my mind, I let him see it - that redemptive chance given to me first by Spencer, folded in the gauze of future intent and left in the entry to his mind. Even to him, the man who caused the shift in Jared, the man who killed him, the man who hung me from a tower. To Mikhail I grant the potential of grace, and yet what grace is left in my own mind is sullied by this new vision of my lover, whose emotions feel cold and yet protective and calm.
'I can't go with you, Mikhail I'm not ready yet. The weight of your conscience would rip my mind apart, before I had the chance to get used to it. I would show you a great many things. Come find me. Trade secrets for secrets, but not now. Now I still feel your fingers round my neck. I feel the crushing weight on Jared's legs in the moment he lost. Where do you think that pain went, Mikhail? Between the moment and the shuddering death?' My hand drifts to the mental bruise of Mikhail's protective stunt, he thought he was helping Lucien maintain his future marriage. It was a valiant action for such a breaker of thrones. But that action's consequence was a greater break in the causeway of my life.
Jared's calm protection hems me in and my eyelids flutter. It is the lover returning to the marriage bed to see a incubus between the sheets, whose snapping fingers and crackling jaws promise shielding from the fires of hell. The searing pain wracks my legs again, but now I understand it. Shorn must have shattered both of them in one go. The moment of doubt, the moment where Jared saw his own death in Mikhail's ice blue eyes, the crux point fell like a hammer to a nail, and part of me is stuck within it - locked in place by the death throes of a passionate fantasy that - that love may endure any injury or distance or time. The rims of my eyes redden and in the fortress of the Storm, I am held by a shadow of a once all encompassing affection.
Jared's fingers feel like sandpaper covered in frost. 'You asked me once why I wasn't there, why I hadn't come sooner in your scarred and vengeful life. I'm here now, and we can overcome.' My faith had been a shambles when Jared had left me on Annaj to go off on his private adventures. I had been a young woman with the beginnings of confidence building upon my thin frame like the muscle and healthy weight I'd gained since joining as Jared's companion in the Penthouse and his bed. Months of happiness, of bonds tenured with mutual benefit and faith purse through my memories, and I cherish each one.
That confidence faltered, yet the bedrock on which it stands is built up with a grounding I simply didn't have, when he left. I've grown. When I took his hand, I felt the shutter-gate crash on the feelings of others in this place for the absolution of Jared's inner protection. He thinks he will not hurt me, or at least it seems not as much as others. I have bent like the willow, but never broken.
I have felt my lover end as keenly as feeling my own and have not turned away. I am becoming the bond which holds the universe in a sway both delightful in its beauty and stalwart in its strength. Trained and protected, I have the capacity to become the Weaver herself, Goddess of Destined Chances. One hand in Jared's, the other slips in my pocket to anchor my walking feet. "Are we going home, Jared? I.. I want to go home."
The pain in my legs is searing. What have I done?
Mikhail rolled his eyes theatrically at the wave of emotions that crashed against him from Anders' mind. Those icy blues seemed to cut right through her with a single glance. In a moment, his toying, playful way reversed into spitefulness, like a viper grabbed by the tail.
"Stars, you are a total basket case," he drawled, voice mocking. "I get it, his love lifts you up. He's the reason for being."
He snorted derisively and started walking toward his yacht and away from the two lovebirds. Obviously they deserved each other. The way that Anders looked at Jared, the way she reached for his hand. Devotion. Love. An ache opened up in Mikhail's chest. Why did the rest of them get happy endings? His heart wound up tight, a visceral pain.
Bitterness riddled him. He knew Jared inside and out. He knew the man had given up his capability for compassion and love in order to survive. The screws on his heart twisted. He didn't try to hide it, Jared already knew and Mikhail wanted Andra to know. Jared had sacrificed love for survival, but if it had been Mikhail in his place? "I would have rather died."
"When he causes your love to wither into nothing in your heart, let me know."
[member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]
"Stars, you are a total basket case," he drawled, voice mocking. "I get it, his love lifts you up. He's the reason for being."
He snorted derisively and started walking toward his yacht and away from the two lovebirds. Obviously they deserved each other. The way that Anders looked at Jared, the way she reached for his hand. Devotion. Love. An ache opened up in Mikhail's chest. Why did the rest of them get happy endings? His heart wound up tight, a visceral pain.
Bitterness riddled him. He knew Jared inside and out. He knew the man had given up his capability for compassion and love in order to survive. The screws on his heart twisted. He didn't try to hide it, Jared already knew and Mikhail wanted Andra to know. Jared had sacrificed love for survival, but if it had been Mikhail in his place? "I would have rather died."
"When he causes your love to wither into nothing in your heart, let me know."
[member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]
The Admiralty
I could feel him, as he walked away. The pain and sadness was tangible in the bond that we shared, for ever since that fateful day in the Cauldron everything had changed. He made me feel.. was this compassion? It should not have been possible, I casted out those feelings. I am sure of it. Without me realizing it, my hand went to Andra’s neck, where Mikhail had caused her pain and caressed it softly as I spoke.
Spoke without even thinking about it, no control.
“One day you will go to my friend, and save him, Andra. He thinks I am his enemy, but in truth.. I am the only man who truly knows him and I think.. that terrifies him. You will heal him, and make him whole again for that is your destiny. To be a Healer of Men. But not today. Today we are going.. h-home.”
I blinked, and suddenly I wasn’t sure where I was. What had happened? Why was I-- Slowly I retreated my hand from her neck, and that gesture froze up as some realization came to me. I closed my eyes, and this time I looked inward and could see.
See my soul, locked up and cut off from that what makes me me. I knew I was safe then. For that battered entity was what had made me weak. And I would never release it again, that Jared was dead. And no handwavium would save him from myself.
Again I opened my eyes, and let myself smile. One which never reached my eyes truly, but it mattered not. Voice calm and restrained again, ice cold as I said.
“Yes.. let’s go home.”
[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"]
Spoke without even thinking about it, no control.
“One day you will go to my friend, and save him, Andra. He thinks I am his enemy, but in truth.. I am the only man who truly knows him and I think.. that terrifies him. You will heal him, and make him whole again for that is your destiny. To be a Healer of Men. But not today. Today we are going.. h-home.”
I blinked, and suddenly I wasn’t sure where I was. What had happened? Why was I-- Slowly I retreated my hand from her neck, and that gesture froze up as some realization came to me. I closed my eyes, and this time I looked inward and could see.
See my soul, locked up and cut off from that what makes me me. I knew I was safe then. For that battered entity was what had made me weak. And I would never release it again, that Jared was dead. And no handwavium would save him from myself.
Again I opened my eyes, and let myself smile. One which never reached my eyes truly, but it mattered not. Voice calm and restrained again, ice cold as I said.
“Yes.. let’s go home.”
[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anders Sivas"]
Thus Saith the Lord
Lucien looked around slightly bewildered one minute it had been a negotiation then all hell broke loose and the being that Lucien had once called lord Grayson had escaped. Lucien watched the other councillors leave, but he had business to settle, he was councillor for internal affairs and this was certainly a large affair.
He strode forward taking up the traitors former position looking out over the city "Rickard I need you" he said telepathically to his chief advisor and body guard "bring your most trusted men" he added.
Rickard arrived a short time later with 40 men.Lucien didn't turn to look at them "Grayson is gone, he had the loyalty of val'halla ... I will not lose val'halla, I am imposing martial law I want all citizens in their homes before 10 each night, there are to be no large gatherings and I want you to arrest all former officials in Grayson's regime ... Do this subtlly" only then did he turn "Rickard you have command, see my instructions are carried out ... Kill any who resist Val'halla will bend it's knee or it will bleed"
Lucien left the palace and issued his own proclemation . he would match any bounty on zaiden but he wanted the traitor alive and unspoiled and should he become spoiled the perpetrator would suffer in kind.
He strode forward taking up the traitors former position looking out over the city "Rickard I need you" he said telepathically to his chief advisor and body guard "bring your most trusted men" he added.
Rickard arrived a short time later with 40 men.Lucien didn't turn to look at them "Grayson is gone, he had the loyalty of val'halla ... I will not lose val'halla, I am imposing martial law I want all citizens in their homes before 10 each night, there are to be no large gatherings and I want you to arrest all former officials in Grayson's regime ... Do this subtlly" only then did he turn "Rickard you have command, see my instructions are carried out ... Kill any who resist Val'halla will bend it's knee or it will bleed"
Lucien left the palace and issued his own proclemation . he would match any bounty on zaiden but he wanted the traitor alive and unspoiled and should he become spoiled the perpetrator would suffer in kind.
Yasha Cadera
Mom'alor
The secrets locked in [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s brain must be doozies, if [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s current state is any inclination. He skips between soulful grace and a bitter lunacy, it's overwhelmingly shifted from the Jared I felt cut down in my mind those weeks ago, before his mysterious showing here. It's enough to give me a deeper pause as I look to the others, the thin crowd and balk. I was Jared's secret, the indwelling masquerade.
"Jared, please…" As Mikhail walks away, I feel the stinging nettles of his mind wrestle me from the thin line of focus which held me locked to these two men. I'm aware of standing where Zaiden had just been, where Shinju and Lucien were, and as Jared strokes my neck I feel stripped and paraded. There's a flicker in his eyes which tells me my Jared is in there, far off and submersed in water. My free hand drifts to alight on his wrist by my neck. To send me to his murderer with the intent to make him whole is an intent I'd expected from Coryth or Sargon, but the sincerity in Jared feels like an ending. A bell tolling midnight resound by resound. "Not in the street. At home, alright? Let's go."
In the blinking repast, the sincerity ends for a chasm deeper than quadrants of far off space. Exposed and drawn in, I realize I'll be seeing Mikhail soon. 'What happened to you?'
"The Suma's in orbit, you haven't seen it since I installed the droids." The words fall meaningless across my floundering and shocked lips and I fight a shudder by leaning closer to his shoulder hoping for the warmth all men carry to seep into my skin. As we walk away from the clusterkriff of an event, the bell continues to chime.
Save Mikhail, Jared said. Will I have time to save Jared before my next journey is begun?
"Jared, please…" As Mikhail walks away, I feel the stinging nettles of his mind wrestle me from the thin line of focus which held me locked to these two men. I'm aware of standing where Zaiden had just been, where Shinju and Lucien were, and as Jared strokes my neck I feel stripped and paraded. There's a flicker in his eyes which tells me my Jared is in there, far off and submersed in water. My free hand drifts to alight on his wrist by my neck. To send me to his murderer with the intent to make him whole is an intent I'd expected from Coryth or Sargon, but the sincerity in Jared feels like an ending. A bell tolling midnight resound by resound. "Not in the street. At home, alright? Let's go."
In the blinking repast, the sincerity ends for a chasm deeper than quadrants of far off space. Exposed and drawn in, I realize I'll be seeing Mikhail soon. 'What happened to you?'
"The Suma's in orbit, you haven't seen it since I installed the droids." The words fall meaningless across my floundering and shocked lips and I fight a shudder by leaning closer to his shoulder hoping for the warmth all men carry to seep into my skin. As we walk away from the clusterkriff of an event, the bell continues to chime.
Save Mikhail, Jared said. Will I have time to save Jared before my next journey is begun?
