If perfection is stagnation, then Heaven is a swamp.

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Somewhere between the constant disconnect and the fierce look of anger in response to the trinket, Gabe found himself mentally prepared to defend himself. Visions of the swamp, the interrogation room, and the raised cuts across his chest all indicated that there was that potential need. It wouldn't be the first time and while he found himself, at times, happy to be in her company: he wasn't at the point of trusting her.

And then, when it seemed like it was all coming to a head, she was on her feet and his heart was racing. Gritting his teeth, he looked out towards the moonlit horizon while holding the compass in a white knuckled grip. Stupid. He couldn't recall a time where his effort had felt more wasted than in these moments, clutching an item that seemed to be of no use, learning a language that did no service in breaking down barriers. At least, it felt that way now, as he looked up and caught the unmistakable glow of her skin.

Her complexion had always been something that caught the eye, though not in such a blatant manner. She went from pale to glowing in but a moment and as he looked up, hand now partly placed against his lips, he realized just how far from human she was. And how he had never seen her bathed in moonlight before. Star struck for a moment, he inhaled and looked away, pulling one knee up from the ledge to prop his elbow against. He could tell the tension change but for the beat of his own heart, he did his best to calm himself.

He didn't understand what was going on nor did he think he could, not with their limited modes of communication. Sitting quietly, he contemplated heading down the water tower. As he searched the horizon, his eyes occasionally darted up towards her more relaxed presence, unmistakably allured by the alien nature of her glow.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The silver illumination carried silent songs across unknown realms of existence that even Cerusia did not fully comprehend. She'd never made the pilgrimage back to her people's home. Never saw the light of the five moons from the spires of Garhall's capital city. Never basked beneath the true light of Moire - but somewhere deep within the essence of her existence she felt she knew it all. Felt the innate familiarity of these far away things. Felt a growing need to return to the source ... wherever it may be.

It wasn't here, though, that much was certain. If only she knew where.

Something pulled at the woman's senses, a pinging on the Force she'd not felt through the cacophony of her own energy in turmoil. Eyes of ripened berry, luminescent as they reflected the moon in their gaze, turned down to the man who sat looking at her. At first she thought it might be him but as she tuned her attention to the faint sensation she realized it was what he held in his hand. The trinket.

A slow released of breath, like steam from a chamber nearing capacity, the volcanic rumblings died down within to be replaced by an eerie stillness. Abated for now by the cool drink of the moon, Cera turned and moved to stoop near the item and the relic holding it.

[What is it.]

Hands cut through the space between them, slow enough for him to read before coming to rest centered before her, suspended by the elbows that leaned against her knees.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The change in her presence was palpable. Not unlike the difference between the lower depths of the woods and standing upon the water tower. Like moving swiftly from the swamps where moisture clings to the skin eternally, to the top of the hill where the wind is cool and soothing. The vast difference between the expression she wore moments ago and the expression she now donned only served to remind him of exactly whom he was dealing. In that he didn't really know.

And based on what he knew about her, admittedly limited, he wasn't sure she knew either.

Eyes drifting from her face to her hands, still somewhat taken back by the shift, he quickly interpreted the question. Perhaps in moments of stress, the greatest knowledge was gained. It was that or the fight or flight reserves were all being spent on hand-eye coordination. Either way, he drew a shallow expression somewhat resembling a smile before turning back to the horizon. He wasn't upset with her, not that he could tell, but he was growing weary of his predicament.

Releasing the white knuckle grip, the compass dropped a few inches from the fist, only to be caught by the metallic chain. He wondered, while hidden deep within his fingers, where the arrow might have pointed. Maybe to some distant, far off on the horizon. Sulon and the Homestead? Arkania?

"It's just a compass..." He said, a subtle tone of sarcasm mixed in with the caution inherent in the situation. He could have told her that Kep informed him of the situation, before returning back here. He probably could have gone about how he made it for her, specifically to find Tulla - in whatever state she might be. But he wagered that wouldn't help him here. "It's meant to help people find things." Letting out a sigh, he turned his neck slowly to look upon her once more. "I figured you might have use for it. That's all."

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Quiet eyes remained focused on the compass, the faint strain of her brow the only hint of acknowledgement to the man's own internal struggle. Cera contemplated the piece and the man it was attached to, watching it swing on the chain. It looked as though it weighed a thousand pounds in his grasp and it was only the strength of his patience and care that held it up.

A hand slowly reached forward, not for the item but for his arm where delicate fingers lightly coiled around, notably cold to the touch. The opposite hand turned up to bare an empty palm, offering...asking to hold it without a single spoken word.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The moon still laid uncovered in the open sky, the drift of the gray clouds moving aimlessly by. He realized that he could only see the movement if he truly tried, the glow of her skin distracting heavily from the idle task. With a small, more potent satellite sitting next to him, reflecting ambient light, his vision shifted clumsily between her and the darkness around them. For the moment, he couldn't deny the allure and the affect on his vision.

Her fingers coiled around his grip. Cold. Though there was a shiver, he couldn't discern whether it was the temperature or simply the touch. He would hazard a guess that it didn't really matter, a thought that lingered as earth toned eyes drifted slowly to her other hand. Resting just beneath the dangling compass, he squinted and let out a long breath through the nose.

His other hand moved beneath hers, hovering just below it, as he released the chain from his fingers. It wasn't that he was concerned about the fate of the compass, should it slip between her fingers and plummet to the ground below. He simple couldn't help it. The pale shine, the way his fingers seemed to slice through the light, he was mesmerized by it. His eyes turned back to her, to gauge the weight of the item that rested in her hands.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Impossible to deny the expectations from previous encounters with the items crafted by this man, Cera braced for the moment that physical contact brought to her mind those images and memories of a life long since lived and lost, but they never came. The hard lines formed around her eyes softened, lessened, as the weight of the compass filled her palm. Lighter than anticipated, fingers closed 'round the surface.

"Hey guys..." Dissero's voice sounded from below.

Cerusia jerked, eyes whipping to the figure of her brother standing in the grasses.

"It's getting lonely down here."

A glance to Gabe, there might've been a ghost of a smirk there, but it could have also been a trick of the moonlight. Fingers resting on his arm, chilled as likened to those of Death, drew across exposed flesh to be slowly pulled away with rising stature. Her presence lingered, however, waiting for the man as if waiting for her own shadow.

~~~~

Far into the night, farther into the swamps. They'd traversed the remnants of pathway left behind by the floods and pressed beyond the washes of thick muck. Speeder bikes from Gabe and Dissero's ships were the mode of transportation after a short exchange of the compass and its purpose. The response to Cera's attentions had been immediate, taking them back to a path they all had followed before but turned up empty handed.

Cera rode with Gabe, one arm looped around his middle while the other curled against his back, trinket secured within her grip. She'd never been this deep into the swamp. There'd never been a reason. They slowly wound between cypress trees, motor rumbles echoing through the oddly silent depths. Over waters and moss beds, mudpits and rooted tangles, through draping vines and snatching branches until finally they could continue no further.

"This is too far for her to have washed out in the flood," Dissero commented as he killed the engine of his bike and leaned it against the broad trunk of a tree, "and it's not like her to wander."

There had been no signs nor trail to follow, only the direction of an unassuming needle on the compass. Cera dismounted and stepped aside to check it again. A cursory glance given to the thicket of trees ahead gave no indication of a pathway to follow but she thought she felt something there beyond the fog. She slipped the compass chain over her head and pulled back her hair, brow furrowed as a pathway was forged instead.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He had almost forgotten Dissero was there, for the small time that passed following climbing the water tower. The revelation of another quality of Cera only brought to life more mystery, drawn to the foreground by the ephemeral glow of her pale skin. The way she stood quietly, unassumingly, waiting for him to leave. With a rhythmic chewing of his inner cheek, he looked back up towards the clouds and moon and stood slowly from his seated position. He was a mix of emotions. On one hand, he hoped this compass would serve its intended role. On the other hand, he dreaded her opening the compass only to see the arrow spinning. The silver lining was that she was capable of holding it, without a noticeable recoil. As in all things, life moved in baby steps.

~~~~​

​

Somewhere between the flood and now, Gabe had ventured through the streets of Sulon to replace the bike that once rested beneath the belly of the Star Viper. Swept away in the heavy rains, he took the time to find something that suited him more than the sleek design of the former vessel. Not as marked by age as he had hoped, the bike was a sturdy as it was dependable. What it lacked in bells and whistles, it made up for his presence of character and the acoustic display of power often missed in new aged speeder bikes.

Cera had opted to ride with Gabe while Dissero rode a bike alone. As they moved through the swamp, deeper and deeper, they did so under the guidance of the enchanted trinket. Arms of the hardwoods clasped through the sky, giving the illusion of a frayed blanket held against a dimly lit lamp. Knees of cypress trees protruded from the otherwise still glass water, providing minimal obstacles in the dark of the night. The kill of the motors gave way to the noise of croaking frogs, belching and burping as methane bubbles popped intermittently through dense mats of sphagnum. Ever occasionally, Gabe spotted the eyes of creatures in the darkness, illuminated by the head lamp of his bike. Cutting it off with a click of the key, it all went dark before the ambient flood of moon light.

"Unusual circumstances can evoke an unusual response." Floods, pirates, wounds. It was enough to expect the unexpected.

Peering over Cera's shoulder as she looked upon the trinket, Gabe couldn't help but smile at the stability and direction. It was enough to go on, even if it were simply skating by. Reaching over the bike, he pulled a spare flashlight from the metal body and clicked it on. Hearing the call of an owl and the flutter of feathers, he strafed the light across the water just in time to see it pluck a shrew from a floating island of moss. Turning back to the indicated path, he looked towards Cera and then towards the distance. Dead reckoning, he picked a large pine in the far off horizon, and stuck to walking towards it.

"Careful with your step. Submerged roots can break ankles." All hands, Gabe cleared what branches needed clearing as they pushed forward through the dark. The sounds of various animals wailed and chirped through the swamp, quieting as they neared a certain nest, only to strengthen as they moved away. While he had seen Cera move through the bogs, having lived here for some time, he was unsure of Dissero's constitution for such wild scenery. He would he do his best to avoid any undeserved assumptions.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

It was a difficult task to be surefooted in terrain that barely managed to be manageable, but Cera made the struggle with relative ease or so it seemed. She was light on her feet, a rather stark foil to her brother who sank into puddles and mud more often than not. The silent woman spared no backward glances, pressing on through branches and vines alike until -

Thunk.

Boot met half-sunken walkway.

A pause as she stood ankle deep in water on the planks of an aged trail, looking first back along the path that dissipated into the fogs and forward where it cut through trees blackened by the shadow of moonlight. The direction of the compass needle hadn't changed; it still pointed true towards the uncharted wilds due west while the sodden wooden walkway drove north and south. The soft click of the trinket clasp lost within the chirruping of frogs, Cera turned north and headed towards the moonlight with the fog at her back, allowing instinct to guide her instead.

The smell of fire was the first to reach her senses, followed shortly thereafter by that of iron and gasoline. The longer they followed the path the more heavily it saturated the air until at long last they reached what seemed to be the edge of the swampwood where the waters reached forth and filtered into a massive lake. There at the center was a town on stilts. Hard edges of makeshift housing illuminated by the glow of torches interspersed with mechanical lamps. Several small and medium ships sat docked on the waters surrounding the settlement. Voices drifted to them over the sound of water lapping against the walkway.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He narrowed his eyes at the pause in step, the sound of wooden planks softly tread upon. A path hidden beneath submersion, marked by an odd cut in the foliage, it ran perpendicular to the guidance of the trinket. Half expecting her to continue West, he watched with lowered flashlight as she clicked the compass closed and continue upon the trail.

Perhaps there was something she sensed in the darkness. Perhaps she could sense Tulla, no longer in need of the trinket. Or perhaps she was simply curious about this walkway, serving as unnerving indicator of civilization in an area once considered untamed.

Entirely satisfied with the notions of following, he treaded water behind Cera, careful to not cause wake or unneeded noise. With an occasional wayward glance towards Dissero, wondering if he had any doubts regarding this journey, Gabe continued forward.

Riding the bike had left him with the subtle smell of fuel, petroleum seeping into the scar riddled palms. But even so, it was quickly overwhelmed by the slightest fragrance. What started out subtle soon became assurance. Proof of life in the deep woods.

He crouched, hand upon peeling bark, as he looked out towards the lake and wondered how he had never heard or seen of such a place. The stilted structures cast a dark reflection upon the lake as every small gust of wind revealed the flicker of the lamps in the reflecting lake surface. It was quiet except for the sound of conversation across the water.

"I've never seen this place before..." He admitted, somewhat meekly. "Where does the arrow point?" For some reason, he had very little interest in investigating this place. Concealed shelter, boats, active even during the dead of night. All signs pointing towards the potential for unsavory interactions.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Pale violets slipped sideways, a slow glance to the man at her right. Cerusia considered this admittance and came to her own agreement on both the words and the tone. She'd never seen it either, not even despite hours spent at the back of the cat they currently sought out meandering and exploring under streaks of moonlight through swamp trees. It struck her as something more than strange and it twisted at her core in a way most disconcerting.

Why hadn't they seen it before?

Such a place should have been easily spotted during approach from above.

Cerusia caught her brother looking up at the sky as he leaned one hand against a support pole. The clouds here were not thick at all. She reached for the compass again, driven by Gabriel's curiosity more than her own, and depressed the latch bolt. It folded open in her palm and after a subtle sway the needle resumed its position due-west and off the wooden plank path. When Gabe leaned to look she was distinctly reminded of warm sand and quite suddenly the desire to march on this little village dissipated.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Curiosity killed the cat. He almost said it and caught himself, realizing the potentially insensitive air of the statement. Instead, he quietly watched Cera close the device.

"I've no desire to chase shadows in the dark..." He admitted, looking over his shoulder at Dissero and his lean. Gabe thought nothing of it, turning back to Cera. "We came here in search of Tulla. These could be nice people, hidden away from sight for privacy..." He pointed gingerly across the stream, squinting his eyes as he looked towards the lit torches. "Or they could be up to no good..."

He narrowed his eyes further, realization coming from the simple statement. What was he, if not a Marshall of the Galactic Alliance? Did his path to redemption lie westbound or across the stillness of these waters? There were people in the village nearby, still reeling from the harm of the pirates and the flood, and here he stood: meekly turning away for fear of the unknown. If none of them were aware of this group of people and their encampment, then assuredly law enforcement weren't either. If they couldn't find where a man hid a holocron, they wouldn't find a buoyant bivouac that actively sought to be hidden. Through all his thoughts, he felt his jaw tense and his hand clamp into a fist.

What if Destin or Maud lived in the Village? What if Ava lived there? What if Cera lived there?

That final bit was more entertainment than revelation, as not only was he aware that she in fact lived there, but she was more than capable of defending herself except at the worst of times. Sometimes, it's hard to stop the train of thought once it gets going.

"I've memorized our route through the woods..." He confessed, not further detailing the sort of memory he possessed. "If we don't investigate tonight, I will at another date..." He looked towards Cera. "When I'm a bit more prepared."

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

She felt much like the floodwaters seeping out across the lands, pulled in so many directions. Gabe offered himself as a buffer, as direction, even if only as a neutral wall gently persuading the water to go this way or that. Westward or home. Cerusia offered a quiet nod and gently tucked the compass back beneath the collar of her shirt.

Westward it was.

Westward they went.

The waters receded somewhat this way, giving to soft muck and mossy ground. The going was slow as the trees thinned through the bog to be replaced by tall reeds and unexpected deeper pools. There were no pathways to follow but Cerusia had the distinct sense that this was a well-traveled location. They passed through areas of reeds cut down or folded over, some older, some fresher. The sounds of local fauna were thick on the heady night air. Insects chirruping, a nightbird whooped overhead, beyond in the reeds the grating rumbles and bubbling of reptiles sounded. Crocs were common out here but small and never typically proved much trouble other than perhaps taking the bait or catch off your fishing line. Occaisionally they could get big and brazen enough to challenge a human in their waters, but with Tulla they'd never even bothered.

So it came as some strange irony when they finally stumbled across the bloated body of the cat half floating in the waters, a leg caught in grizzly trap. There was evidence of crocs feeding on the meat and the smell was horrendous, but that wasn't even the worst part.

Upon closer inspection Cerusia found the cat's head had been taken from it's body, leaving behind a rotting stump.

Cera stood in horrified silence at the sight.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He was never one for vengeance. That was the unsightly thing, left in his past, with his brother. Vengeance, revenge, the sort of quest taken in righteous notions of making things even - serving some form of unofficial justice. He swore that it would never be his path. But when he spoke to Dissero and to Cera, having the suspicion that Tulla remained alive, he couldn't feel the humility he desired in this moment. The wisdom to admit that he was wrong. Instead, it was simply anger and guilt, filled to the brim with ire. He could not have been more wrong if he had tried and whats worse, he may have given hope where it wasn't needed. As he looked towards Tulla, the mangled corpse that remained, he felt it come to the top.

Stepping forward, he moved past Cera without touching her. There was a pain there, one he could sense, and for all the bravery he had, he was wary of her anger. Wading into the water, the still blackness of the night, he pushed through stagnant algae and moss. Igniting the lightsaber, he made quick work of the trap wrapped around her leg. Extinguishing the blade, he pushed the body towards the reeds. It was bloated, filling with internal gases, and reeked of death. Laying Tulla to rest, those were his words, but he wasn't sure of the sincerity now.

Despite the bloat, he felt inclined to stroke her fur across her ribs, as if she were sitting here alive, basking in the sun. With a release of his hands and a small gust of wind, she'd inevitably float into the reeds and disappear, sinking to the bottom to become a part of this place. And for all the talk he had, typically full of positive thoughts and hope, he couldn't overcome this sense of remorse.

"These were game paths..." He said, looking out into the empty waters and marshes. He was sure she would have noticed. The way the branches were cut, the way the reeds bent over in a foraging path, the way the grasses were stomped down. There was no mistaking it and the suspicion crept in. He couldn't recall noticing and inwardly, he wasn't convinced, but for the moment he felt sure that the path would lead back to that encampment. "Tulla was caught in one of their traps...and instead of helping her, they butchered her."

His jaw tensed as he let the quiet of the swamp interrupt him. And linger there, for the moment.

"Unforgivable."

But what was Tulla to these people, just a beast in the swamp. They couldn't have known the importance she might have had. But then, those were logical thoughts to be had by someone clear of mind.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Cera stood silent, still as the night around them, pale violets watching the man tend to the body. No tears came to head and barely even a frown touched her own face. Her mind was placid for this moment in time that her true self would have spent in mourning. But Cerusia was not a whole person and she was not her whole self. She was but a fracture of the whole - pieces broken from the original that might've experienced the pain and anguish of losing this gentle soul, this watchful friend.

Instead she felt nothing past the shock. There was a hollowness there she couldn't understand. Was it her own or was it that left behind in the loss of Tulla? Perhaps her mind simply hadn't really caught up, hadn't processed what it was seeing yet...

She'd never felt so calm. Only she had - spare moments on an ocean shoreline with her holocron nearby.

"Cera..." she could hear the frown in her brother's voice, the intensity of vocal chords trying to keep level. Her eyes slipped down to the hand that gently pulled at her elbow. "Let's go, Cera. Let's go home."

Home...

That serene gaze returned to Gabriel and locked on to steely eyes. How she wished for the emotions he felt. At the insistence of Dissero she slowly began to pace backwards to follow his lead but maintained watch on the man with the braids. He who seemed to provide all the answers and solutions to questions and problems she never knew she had.

Why can't I feel this?


~~~~~

The clouds had finally moved on, moseying off across the horizon by the time they reached the village again. The low rumble of their bikes kept to the outskirts where the ships were waiting. Dissero diverted his path to his own ship. After disembarking from her place on Gabe's, Cera stood waiting for the man to join her, watching the moon make it's slow descent across the twilight sky.

Pale hands reached for the chain of the artifact around her neck and pulled it from beneath the collar of her shirt, lifting it away. When he neared finally she quietly offered it back to him, weary of the item now for what it had revealed to her.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Grief was a difficult thing. Largely in it's unpredictability, it was impossible to determine how someone might react to loss. In his moment of grief, Gabe had felt the flash of anger he didn't know existed except in the most heated of moments - His bouts against Kaine came to mind. But even in those moments, he was fueled more by fear than anything else. Fear that should he fail, what Kaine would do to his loved ones. He felt solely in desire to protect.

Was that his reasoning now? Why did he feel so attached to this creature? He had only known it in passing moments.

As he looked towards Cera, he saw the emptiness across her expression. Shock, he convinced himself it was shock. She couldn't possibly be that broken, to feel nothing in the event of loss. So wounded by whatever life preceded the here and now, he couldn't fathom it. From his perspective, she showed the slightest signs of PTSD. Vacant expression, tainted with just the hint of confusion, like knowing she should feel something and not knowing why.

~~~​

The ride back was quiet, as he expected it to be. A lot to digest for those who had seen the consequences of such tragedy. Parking in the normal spot, he took a moment to catch his breath before heading back to meet Cera. The tempest of his anger had dwindled with time to think. A beast in the woods, injured so thoroughly and potentially threatening to a village - He didn't know that the choice was wrong, from another's perspective.

She had removed the trinket from her neck, presenting it for Gabe to take back. Sighing, his right hand hovered beneath hers. With his other, he reached to grab the trinket. Instead, he pushed her fingers, attempting to curl them back over and grasp the item. Shaking his head, he frowned as he looked towards her hand.

"Keep it. Or throw it away. It was made for you." He knew what he wanted and where he could find it. He didn't need the compass for that. He'd hoped he would have more comforting words for her. But it was obvious that hope would only get him so far.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Somewhere far away along a route taken what seemed forever ago there were waves lapping along a shore. Cera felt the grit and warmth of sand along her knuckles.

Fingers closed around the compass.

It was made for you.

Eyes of soft orchid looked upwards, questioning this gift but in no way declining it. She would no sooner throw such a thing away than she would an ancient tome or a historical manuscript. Perhaps it was the intention she did not understand, or maybe the use: to find the things that you desired. The issue was not the artifact.

What would it point at now that she had discovered the truth of Tulla?

A slow, subtle nod was given in response. Cera curled her fingers around the trinket, pulling it as well as the hand he enclosed her own with towards her. The space between them closed and not with any haste. She was tentative and there were all the opportunities in the world for Gabe to move away, to signal or express a desire for distance. Any of which would be respected, but in the absence of she would press on. Senses ever attentive to body language, eyes panning the shift and weight of his stance, she would lean in to nuzzle at his jawline - seeking out the rest of the shore, the scent of seasalt in his hair and beads of ocean spray on his skin.

That illusive feeling of warmth. The very same she was prepare to do without if it wouldn't be found here.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He hadn't realized how he missed that hint of jasmine until he was presented with it once more. Like a childhood memory remembered entirely from smell, he recalled that night and the way the lightning strikes reflected against her in the dark. Not unlike her appearance beneath the cloudless moons gaze, just not nearly as lasting. And perhaps that was the reason for its importance, in how fleeting it was. The days that followed didn't seem to share such enthusiasm or passion, days passing in repetition. Often it was the opposite, leaving him with the unfounded suspicion that he had done something wrong.

Or yet again, that he didn't understand her. He felt that he could know her forever and still be struck with the same revelation. Yet, he made no attempt to distance himself. He wanted to be near her, with her, and his lack of comprehension wouldn't murky the waters of his desire. In some ways, it may have clarified it.

Fingers lifted to the locks of her hair, floating through, tracing delicate curls of toasted hickory. Gingerly as calloused farm hands were capable, he dragged the edges of his fingernails just behind her temporal hairline, above the ear. For the briefest of moments, it felt like pawing, and he wondered which Cera now interacted with him. The one who struck nails across chest or the one with the smile, playing x's and o's in the receding shoreline. Either way, held at a distance, he had missed her.

A train. He recalled her expression and the anger that followed. And how it felt like a decree for hope from something entirely hopeless. That it didn't matter when the train arrived or where it would take her. Just that it existed and eventually, she would find it or it would find her. He was convinced that that was the purpose of the expression, as vexing as it might have been at the time. It doesn't matter because it doesn't matter. But the physical statement of the phrase, it could very well conjure its own existence.

"What do you want, Cera?" He paused. "Where do you want to go? I'll take you there."

The soft currents of the beach, lapping at her feet...

The peak of the mountain, skin kissed by the gentle breeze...

Or somewhere in between...

Anywhere.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

For many, the easiest question in the world was just that.

What do you want.

For Cera it was something that drove her mad. How did one know what they wanted, when what they wanted was an unknown? It was seeing the ink printed on the other side of the paper but not quite being able to make it out. It was a picture in a frame sunbleached from the years, too faded to make out the true details of the faces within. It was a voice in the distance that you could hear but just couldn't understand.

Fleeting, effervescent clues of a life gone from knowledge but still lingering at the infinite edges of her memories. She was incapable of capturing them.

What she wanted was something tangible. Something memorable. Something real, here and now. Something that was her own and not those of a life lost. Cera wanted warm sand and drifting waves. The sound of the ocean in her ears and the feel of the breeze on her skin. Without breaking the contact or pulling away, the woman lifted her free hand between them. Pale eyes lowered to his chest where beneath the material of his shirt there might still yet be the lines of her nails in his flesh. She lightly traced them with her fingertips.

"Cera I have to get in touch with Amor-" Dissero had just walked in on the exchange, pausing in his stride as he eyed the pair curiously, "-ella. ...ahem. I have to, ah, have to inform her of what's...transpired. She's actually not far, just over on Annaj."

Hand resting on Gabe's chest, Cerusia turned her head to look back at her brother over her shoulder with little regard to what he might have thought about their interaction.

"I'd like to tell her in person. It'll take me a few days," Dissero looked to Gabe, the barest perceptive nod given, "you'll be alright then?"

Cera nodded.

"Right," a quiet, pregnant pause as the man considered things. After a moment and a sigh, he nodded to himself, "Gabriel, thank you, for all your help."

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He returned the nod, however shallow, with a slight smile. "You're welcome." He wasn't entirely accustomed to that. Being thanked.

~~~​

​

When he said he'd take her somewhere, he wasn't expecting her to want to leave immediately. With the moon still high in the sky, they took off on the speeder in the dead of night. The sound of frogs burping, insects chirping, and the occasional hoot from an owl all sung a certain quiet rhythm preceding the hum of the speeder bike. The route was almost the same as before, except for skipping the police headquarters altogether. Bypassing the city, through the woods, small mountainscapes, into the shoreline. Before, they had taken a path he found through instinct and the force. Through the dead of night, he was incapable of locating it.

But the sound of shoreline, the salty breeze, it was unmistakable. Even over the stimuli of riding the speeder bike.

He took a hard cut through the woods, an emboldened game trail marked by unnatural paths in the foliage and dirt skids through the otherwise detritus laden floor. He lowered the engine speed as they moved through, guided by the headlight and the bright luminescence of the moon. Shining down, white and particularly radiant, it cast tree shaped shadows across the ground from its low standing. And it continued to dive towards the ocean as night turned to morning.

As they cleared the forest, trees transitioning to white sand as far as the eye could see, Gabe cut off the machine and kicked it into park. He couldn't tell just how far away they were from the cavern but from the distance, he couldn't see it. Twilight may have afflicted him, for the moment, with the inability to truly discern it. So he took the time to enjoy the serenity of the bronze glow of the ocean. The way the moon and sun were doing a slow dance, ships passing in the night over a sea of green and blue, white being slowly replaced for fire and warmth - It provided spectacular array of colors.

Stepping away from the bike, he gave Cera space as he was always inclined to do, and left his shoes by the speeder. Walking barefoot through the sand, it reminded him of snow on Arkania, and he reached down to search for shells or stones. Round one. Odd one. He tossed them away. Another one. Tossed it away. Finally, he found a chipped plate of shell. Satisfied after a quick inspection, he tossed it outwards, intending to skip it.

One hop. It caught the edge of a wave and twirled off, sinking into the water with a plunk. He let out a sigh with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "Hmph."

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

For as eager as she had been to see the ocean again, Cera felt a sense of anxiety creep upon her as they neared the shoreline through the trees. The woman remained at the speeder as Gabe kicked off his boots and stepped out across the sands as casual as a crab. There were worries of her expectations of this place. The tentative unfolding of memories and dreams of the salty sea to become something not like what remained.

She was so afraid of having lost them, of being incapable of grasping them just like everything else, that the prospect of revisiting suddenly hit her with a greater depth of meaning. Cera watched Gabe wander and search through the sand, minding his movements and mannerisms as if a child caught in a grown man's body. Her eyes followed the path of the selected shell in his hand and out across the shallows; a single skip and then a plunk.

Images of two young boys traipsing along a jungle riverbed under the pale moonlight briefly filtered through her mind. She could hear their voices faintly. Echoes of echoes. Their faces were never clear but she could make out that sandy blond hair on the taller one and the dark auburn of the younger. Here again the wealthspring of a faded life conjured forth by this man.

Cera hugged at her arms, shoulders shrugging into curls of mahogany as she finally ventured forward, boots sinking through soft sand.

Several steps, a momentary pause, a few further steps and she was at his side with a small assortment of shells offered within the cusp of two hands and curled fingers. A smile played somewhere in the shadow of her expression as she held them out to him and motioned with a nod of her head for him to try again.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]