If perfection is stagnation, then Heaven is a swamp.

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He looked towards the man, the man looked towards Cera. Gabe looked back towards Cera, saw the steam rising and the fear in the prisoners eyes. It was well placed. The Hound disconnected from the wall as he paced slowly, pressing his fingers against his nostrils. Squeezing, they drifted up to the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. Cera seemed fueled on anger but he felt the very same, debilitating and tiring. He felt heat slowly deplete his body as he looked towards the woman. Circling behind her, he unrolled the paper and clicked a pen, turning it over to the blank side.

If you kill him, you risk losing what he has hidden. Trust me.

_ | _ | _
_ | O | _
_ | _ | _

"What...what are you writing?"

Gabe looked up and smiled, laying the pen down on the paper as he inspected his nail beds. "Oh, I was just making a note of whether I thought you would take the deal or not. You see, Jerrik is smart enough to recruit the loyal ones. But he assumes you aren't smart enough to try and save yourself, it's an ingrained attribute."

He could hear it again, the spray of the ocean, the rise of the foam. The echoing of the sound reverberating back and forth across stone. The sunlight cutting through water carved hole, waves occasionally rising up and above to drip drop back down into the cavern. That was it, a cavern. And where the rocks ended, he felt sand. Coarse, moist, soothing and relaxing.

"You're right, I hid the items." He shook as he spoke, a quiver in his voice reflecting the seriousness of the conversation.

"Which items?" Gabe perked up from the desk, making sure they were on the same page.

"I don't know what it was! It was round and gold and heavy! And notes and stuff!"

"Notes and stuff?" Gabe frowned as he looked towards the man. "Where in the cavern did you hide it? Hurry up, John. Before I find it myself and decide you were of no use."

Panic set in as he looked towards the Gabe and Cera, ready to pop.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The strangled coil of muscles in a display of tense and delicately fettered rage had become the woman. Like a flame that had suddenly leapt to unforeseen kindling, it grew with such sudden intensity that the temperature of the room had risen noticeably. Eyes of virulent purple took on a growing hue of red, slowing only in their progress of change at the invitation of that simple game.

A very small part of Cera wanted to close her eyes and just...let it all go. She recognized the gesture not as a means of comraderie, but as a reminder of her humanity. Once upon a time she'd created it for herself and now she had another creating it for her. Where had the self-control gone? Where had this monstrous demon inside her come from?

But that same demon was already invested in control and it set her jaw so tightly she thought she felt her fangs crack against one another. Intensity of her stare flared violently, a physical heat rolling off her in waves.

Gold. Round. Heavy.

Notes and stuff.

The tether snapped. Invisible energies furled outward, snatching the table with violent accord and throwing it straight up to the ceiling where it hung with disturbing persistence. There came a rancorous hiss from the woman, the first sound emitted from her mouth in Gabriel's presence, spitting forward through rows of long and lethal fangs as she made to stand. Her movements were nothing made with haste but with determined purpose - hands making to seize the criminal's throat with malicious intent.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Seems he had made a misstep somewhere along the way. Underestimating that anger he had felt slivers and pieces of, he was starting to feel that bringing Cera into this interrogation room was a poor choice on his part. One of of many he had made with her, making the right choice seemed to be the more uncommon notion. And now he was presented with a choice, or a number of them, and he wasn't sure any where right.

Eyes drifting to the ceiling, where the table hung, Gabe's hand flung out as he force pushed the prisoner hard in his chair. The metal chair went squealing back, smacking into the wall five feet back. He let out a gasp, Gabe hoping it had knocked some sense into him in the mean time. Where Cera moved with slow determination, Gabe moved in quick desperation. Force push, followed by force speed, he thanked his own teachings for the investment into telekinesis based attacks. Though he wasn't entirely sure it was smart to get into this womans way, not when she seemed to be unraveling.

The barrier was forming before he got there, translucent energies spiraling out from the floor in waves and shimmers. And as he put himself in between the prisoner and Cera, like lightning, the energy found the grounding in the center of his palm and formed a force barrier for her to run directly into.

Cera, look at me.

His telepathy was calm and soft spoken, his intent to not harm but simply repel.

"I-I-I-I hid it beneath a stone of alabaster!" The prisoner shook, unable to hide his face behind his hands. "I'm sorry! Please don't kill me."

You kill this man, you take his place. No more swamp, no more shop, no more Tulla, no more future outside of this precinct or the local penitentiary. Is that what you want? Because that's not what I want.

"Please don't kill me!"

Gabe turned his head to the man and bared his teeth. "Shut up, John! Let the adults talk."

John let out a sniff, tears running down his face as he looked back towards the woman through the barrier. Gabe turned his head back towards the charging woman and smiled.

Lets leave this place. How do you feel about beaches? I'd like to show you one.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Knuckles his the energy field first - a gentle tap to break the motion as virulent eyes moved to strike a glare at the man who dared get between her and her intended victim. The reprieve of fury for suspension of surprise was short-lived, however, and crimson eyes shut as a surge of violent energy clapped forward to dismantle his shield by interrupting the flow of his own energy.

Like a bird cutting through a downpour of rain that leaves in its wake a slanted void of open air, if only for a few moments.

Cera seized the opportunity and surged forward, eyes on the prize, Gabe's words lost within the storm of emotion.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

And just like that, the shield blinked away with an insurgence of energy. She was running on full emotion now, completely distraught over this offense. Or loss. Or something to grieve, pent up and bottled away. It made no sense and for now, it didn't need to. He simply needed to make her stop. He had given his word to the Chief and among things he still had on Annaj, that still held some value.

She was determined but so was he and his intensity was building to match hers. As she moved, she ducked beneath his attempt to grab her, heading straight for the prisoners. But she was fighting a force master who had long come into his own, body transferred on Selvaris and steadily grown to a sense of comfort. And since, either on Sulon or on the battlefield, he had worked to regain his strength and speed, to match his brother.

Pivoting after the missed grab, he lunged forward. One hand draping around her side, the other coming around her as his fingers locked at the center of her chest. Well aware of the likelihood for her to lash out at him, careful where his ring was placed, he pulled his head back with the grab, trying to prevent her from smacking the back of her head into his nose. With the force flowing freely through him, even with her tremendous strength, it would be difficult to maneuver out of, especially with arms pressed to her side in a backwards bear hug.

There was no intent in harm, simply a soothing aura. He showed her the memories of the item, how it sat delicately against a stone of white, notes and items nested in a nook of sea spray and foam. The quiet of the sea, as loud as anything could ever be, and just as calming. Her items weren't in danger, she would know that if she would simply see beyond her anger.

Stepping back, if he could, he would lift her from the ground and attempt to create distance between her and the prisoner who had fainted just moments after the shield broke. If leeway was given, he kicked the door they entered through and pull her into the next room, out of sight of the prisoner.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Much struggling ensued but no further use of the Force was to be had by the seething woman who only attempted to free herself from his grasp to get at the fainted John ... until the fainted John was no longer within line of sight. Gabe heaved her into the adjoining observation room limbs flailing. The hiss of the door shutting behind them sent the interrogation chamber into a strange quiet.

Until the table came crashing to the floor again, breaking two legs in the fall.

In the dark confines of the observation room Gabriel was forced to grapple with something that wasn't quite a woman but closer to a demonic alien. Eyes the color of angry purple glowed and flashed wildly at his front as she thrashed against the strength of his arms. Her own swung with deliberate purpose, aiming elbows at face and middle - whatever she could reach. There was no practiced calculation behind any of it, only the fire of instinct and emotion that was quickly burning itself out without a source of fuel.

Eventually, after several drawn out minutes of this, in whatever manner he found it necessary to contain her, Cera's movements stilled. She silently seethed, a coiled viper ready to strike again at the slightest provocation. Heart hammering madly in her chest and skin heated, she panted to catch her breath. The raging emotional storm within had broken up enough to permit his messages passage without the rebuff of negative emphatic feedback and it seemed to finally connect with the human side of her psyche.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

She struggled and wrestled with him the best she could, attempting every trick imaginable at the time to free herself from his grip. But where she was strong, aggressively so, he was experienced and capable. And years of fighting larger and much stronger opponents had left him in need of tricks of overcome that. And with training, he felt that he had. But not without flaw.

An elbow to the face and an elbow to the gut left him gasping but with fingers still locked against her abdomen. Her fingers cut and clawed down his arms to attempt to persuade release, but to no avail. Something akin to a growl would resonate from his lips in response to each attack as he would turn and shake her, doing his best to prevent her legs from gripping him and allowing her some form of stability.

Until at last, the anger seemed to subside or at the very least, hide itself away. That sort of feeling never truly left someone, not without conscious effort to destroy it. Slowly, methodically, her feet touched the ground and Gabe breathed a sigh as he pressed his forehead against the base of her neck. One part for rest, other part for avoiding a surprise attack to the bridge of his nose. He could feel the waves receding but he wasn't sure he prepared to release her, holding doubt that the observation glass would contain her if she wanted to get back to the prisoner. He was pretty convinced she hadn't revealed the full brunt of her power.

You're quite strong when you're angry. He let out a quiet laugh, followed by a grunt as he decided to trust the woman. And slowly, his fingers unraveled from her chest as he stepped away, just in time to catch the other door as it opened.

"Everything alright in here, heard a bit of commotion."

Gabe pressed his hand against the door to prevent it from opening any further.

"Everything's fine, thank you for checking in."
"You sure? It sounded like a rancor got loose in here!"
"No problem. We're almost done."
"Alright then."

The door shut and Gabe flipped the bolt on it, looking back over towards the woman. While he had left her side for the moment physically, he had remained vigilant of her, half expecting this all to be a ruse.

I'm ready to go get your items, whenever you are. He pressed his palm against his forehead, where her elbow had hit him, and let out a long half sigh, growl mixed in. Maybe one of these days, he'd go a day around her without getting punched or elbowed or scratched or clawed. Probably not.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Sharp, heavy breathing pierced grit fangs as the woman pulled from his loosened grip and stumbled away towards the nearest wall. There she steadied herself against it, pressing forehead to cold surface to wait out the cooling of her blood. Chest heaving, fingers stuck in what felt like a permanent coil of fists, her every vein ached from the heat of rage as it slowly subsided.

Cera grimaced, forcefully having to will the tension from her muscles and the adrenaline from her limbs. This loss of control was beyond frustrating - it was terrifying for a woman who had spent centuries in practiced and bitter control of herself and her emotions. A single beat of a tightened fist against the wall left an indent - visible damage left behind by simple aggravation. Purple eyes stared at the mark with active dejection, brows deeply furrowed.

I'm ready to go get your items whenever you are.

His words brought a welcome sensation to her mind; cool and calm despite everything. Forehead still pressed against the wall she tipped her head just enough to switch her gaze to him. Cerusia inhaled deeply and slowly released the air from her lungs before pulling away from the wall and wringing a hand through the curls of her hair to push the mess left behind from the struggle out of her face. A quietude settled over her aura, almost as if she were embarassed of her behavior. This wasn't far from the truth. In the darkness of the room two paling eyes glowed softly and looked up at him in something akin to defeated apology.

She gave a nod and waited to follow his lead.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The change was almost palpable, the feeling of her aura moving from one spectrum to another. He had felt that shift in himself at a time, torn between twins who couldn't be more different. But here, it wasn't like that, from what he could tell. He was simple in that regard, hoping for the best, in whatever form it may come.

Words of intent manifested in a response, in as vocal as Cera could be. An apologetic expression, he would have responded with words if not for the knowledge that they carried so little weight. This was something out of her hands, continuation of its discussion only highlighted that fact more and more. Her eyes now, the crimson ones in the interrogation room, they weren't the same person. Not entirely, though it revealed itself in the figure before him. With her nod, he gave a warm, if not mildly concerned, smile as he clicked open the dead bolt and the door swung open. He'd walk out in front of her, to do away with the questions.

"You find your items?" The Chief was quick to respond to the door opening, leaning back in his chair.
"We got our lead, yeah." Gabe responded as he headed towards the main door.
"Well that's good news! You all interested to hear what we are looking to pin him with?"
Gabe waved and opened the door for Cera. "We're not interested in his fate. Thanks."

~~~​

​

The crawl of the city, encumbered with vegetative growth and vines, slowly began to diminish to the sounds of the speeder bike cruising down through the main thoroughfare. It was replaced with dilapidated buildings until there was nothing but the slowly engulfing sight of mountains, the dark and drab of the swamp a long forgotten thing to the crisp and clear air of the great earthen goliaths. He cut the speeder hard through a tunnel of tall aspen trees, the duracrete and asphalt transitioning to simple gravel until the road cut down into the earth. Swallowed by a tunnel of stone.

He flicked the lights on as the temperature grew cold, swerving down through eroded rocks and the appearance of historic lava routes. Conduits in the fields of molten rock, formed by tunnels of air, it reminded him for a moment of Sullust and the geothermal vents. Until the lights at the end of the speeder were greeted by the dim and faint light of sun at the end, small for now, but complimented by the soft echo of slow tide.

When they had gotten close enough, he slowed to a halt and cut the speeder bike off. Where the rock began, it slowly transitioned into sand, pressed gently by the salt chop of the bay. Turning his head to Cera, he smiled. He hoped, by now, she could sense the presence of her holocron. Void slowly filled with proximity.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

She spent the duration of the ride with her head tucked at his back, out of the wind and bowed in persistent shame and brooding introspection. There had been no way to know just how resurrecting her with a soul fractured by time and circumstance would effect her new life but now she was beginning to see. This new life, whatever it was meant to be in the eyes of the woman pulling her strings, would be just as fractured and broken as she felt. Cera had a sinking notion that she might not ever feel whole again - only partial to the woman she had once been.

The winking, gentle presence of her holocron off in the distance served only as a reminder of what she couldn't have.

She couldn't ever be the same person she was before and now she would have to learn how to be the person she was now. Learn to live with this demonic possession of all the anger and spite she'd kept buried over her previous years. Cera wasn't sure she could do it; this ladder she climbed was missing large gaps of rungs and she didn't know she had the strength and mental fortitude to will her way past the open spaces where no support could be found but her own.

The speeder engine cut and she felt the deafening quiet of the shoreline sink in on her mind. Cera pulled herself from her seat and took several wandering steps away, towards the lull of gently surging waves. Looking out over the sea, passing gaze along the distant horizon, Annaj felt bigger than the entire galaxy and more foreign than any strange place she'd ever visited. Cerusia Shamalain had no memory of this place. No recollection, no sense of already been. No well of memories tied to a likeness. It was a curious sensation to not feel anything as she stared out to where water met sand and pebble. A bit like opening a book with nothing but empty pages.

She felt overwhelmed when she knew she should have felt serene.

The woman's eyes trailed off to her right, towards a rise of stone that formed a cove further down the shoreline. The holocron was there, calling to her, and for the moment that assurance was enough. Head turning back, tipping down to the sand and scattering of shells and smoothed pebbles beneath her boots she slowly lowered to stoop. Fingers reached to collect the trinkets, feeling the courseness of microscopic glass over the surface of ocean-washed stone. Salt stung her senses, the breeze brought mists of sea water to her skin. Where was her serenity?

Feeling the weight of defeat she slowly dropped back to sit in the sand, burgundy waves ruffling in the wind.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He watched her quietly as she moved from the speeder to the mouth of the cavern, finding the sand and the shoreline and sun and the salt. Her movements seemed exact but almost without purpose, as if she was wondering and wandering, despite how close he knew they were to the Holocron. He could see, in the transplanted memories, exactly where the man had hidden it. It was where he used to steal things as a child and stow them away, parents living several miles down the coast in a vacation getaway turned steady home. But with all that, she seemed to not be interested in putting her hands on it. It took a moment for him before that made sense, realizing that back at the shop, she wasn't always holding it. It seemed, sometimes, being nearby was enough.

But more than her apparent shift in gaze and attention to the grains of sand and mixed mica, he caught the inflection of her aura. Disheartened, he had felt it all the way along the ride from the sector. And he couldn't help but feel bad about that. He had sensed turmoil in her, in flashes here and there, and in the swamp. And while she was walking Tulla. He should have known better.

Pressing his fingers against the barely noticeable mustache, he walked quietly to the spot of sand next to her and sat down. He was coming to terms with the fact that things were different with Cera. With Ava, with Chev, he could just put his arm on their shoulder and console them for the obvious frustration they were going through. But with Cerusia, he hadn't found grounding yet. She couldn't speak, he was just becoming comfortable with the notion of talking to her, only ever hearing his own voice. And telepathy was always an option, yet she hadn't returned the dialogue. He couldn't place the reasoning for her silence or how the woman at the Inn managed to converse with Cera while he remained in the dark, grasping at straws. And in the end, it didn't really matter, as he looked out to the low sun, squinting his eyes.

"Sulon doesn't have oceans..." He broke the silence with what felt like idle talk. But he was sure if he started driving, it might take him somewhere. "When I first arrived on Sullust and Sulon, I had so little control over my powers, I felt almost helpless. It was like..." He placed his hand on his chest. "I knew what I knew but I couldn't translate that to this new body. There was a language barrier. And it simply took time to overcome." He looked over to Cera, picking up a piece of crab molt and showing it to her.

"Vonduun crabs, of the Yuuzhan Vong, did the very same thing. They abandon their body for a new one, having outgrown the old. If only it were so easy for all us..." Placing the molt down on the sand by his feet, he watched quietly as it vibrated in the wind.

I'm sorry about taking you into that interrogation room.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

A stray glance was given to the man and little more. Wilted violets meandered slowly, detached as his words brushed against her thoughts like the sea breeze against her skin. Warm, comforting, but baring just enough salt to sting. The man had a habit of saying things in a manner that hinted to a secretive knowing but without enough clarity to rightfully say whether he did or not. It reminded her vaguely of Silencia and that was where the sting became very real. Were it not for his calming presence and strange familiarity they wouldn't be sitting there at that very moment.

Likely he wouldn't have been allowed back into the shop, made to go elsewhere like Varunda IX - a shop closer in proximity to his home on Sulon and, curiously enough, baring more stock in the things he often sought out like the Ankarres wood. They only kept it at the Annaj location because he continued to show up. But why? Why when Varunda IX was half as close and on the way? The nonsensical formed a deep line in her brow. Perhaps he simply did not know about the shop ... which made little sense to her. She was certain Kep had divulged the existence of it in their first exchange...

Her eyes connected with the molt and with his words the gesture garnered an incredulous look.

Had he just compared her to a crab?

And yet again he ruined her foul mood with apology.

The lines of her face softened suddenly, as if stricken by those telepathic words, shifting to lines of shame. She wished, deeply, there was no reason for such an apology. Part of her wanted to shake sense into the man, to make him see. Another part quietly enjoyed the chaos she'd caused. The life she'd taken. The same part was angry at him for interrupting her assault of the second man.

Yearned for his blood on her lips and beneath her nails.

Then there was that smaller part of her that recalled his attempt to quiet her rising emotions in the interrogation room. Remembered the pad of paper and what had been drawn on it. The lines of shame faded, Cera looked away and shifted her seat in the sand to fold her legs to the side. A hand reached forward to smooth the sand between them and draw in the lines.

_ | _ | _
_ | O | _
_ | _ | X


A smile followed, somber and quiet like the sea.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Her face was a constantly shifting myriad of thought and emotion. Without constant attention, it was hard to keep track. Warm, yet lukewarm, comforting yet biting. The allure of a rose with all the thorns along the stem, he couldn't help but lean back in the sand, rolling over on his side to face her. Studying quietly as she thought on his words, expressions of irritation and confusion, furrowed brow of disbelief, and all the manner of positive emotions that might exist between the ripples and waves. She was a complex being, one made even more so with the silence, both mentally and verbally. Granted, she provided more than enough in her aura, but sometimes it felt like describing color to one that had never seen it. At least, not in as nearly expressive intensities.

As she drew the lines and filled in the blanks, he looked across the sand and smirked. She was there, somewhere behind those angry crimson eyes, she was there. And that was an important detail for the man who had experienced similar blackouts in his life. Either she had lost control or was struggling with it all along the way. Either way, she was cognizant of her actions, which explained the feeling of shame that resonated from her. Just as he felt towards the murdering of his own children, though he was diametrically opposed to his twin at the time and for Cera, this cohabitation felt more akin to weaving. Not quite separated, two beings still struggling for control. And as it stood, he wasn't sure he would ever fully understand it beyond the attempts to relate it back to his own experiences. Perhaps an unfair thing to assume, but it was all he had.

Reaching over, he made his mark in the sand.

_ | _ | _
_ | O | _
_ | O | X

Perhaps it was because of exhaustion, perhaps it was because he was growing increasingly fascinated with the woman. Despite the notions of the darkside coursing through her, he could understand and place himself in those shoes. It wasn't so long ago that he hid back in the recesses of anothers mind, watching with all hope lost for the travesties committed. Where he had condemned others for such tainted presence, with Cera, he found familiarity and acceptance. Not once had she looked upon him as others had, as his brother. And that was freeing.

Looking down towards her planted hand, his drifted over, sea shells and sand grains broken up by a pointed nail. Not truly aware of his actions, he pressed his thumb against it, dragging the skin across, similar to how a marksman might test the sharpness of an arrow head. Turning his hand over in the sand, he pressed the thumb as the blood welled up, before looking back towards Cera. Rolling his jaw a bit, he returned a warm expression.

"Is the blood you drink for sustenance?" He spoke nonchalant about the matter. No fear of the notion, simply curious about her beyond the materials carried in the shop or what her holocron could do. He had known others to consume without the need for it. He'd likely not get the full answer he was searching for, limited with their current forms of communication. But his investigations back on Sulon had revealed very little on what species she might be or what reasons there would be for consuming blood. Beyond a few rare genetic disorders, such as porphyria, that are treated fairly well through consumption of raw iron. And he wasn't about to ask her if she had any of these disorders, seemed like the wrong way to go about things.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Strangely enough she felt as though they'd been here before and it incensed the woman with faint amusement. Not here. Not on this beach listening to the waves roll across the shore. Not tangled in the breeze off the ocean or immersed in the grains of warm sand. But between the lines of this game, all rounded lines and pointed edges. He the Noughts and she the Crosses, an ever eternal battle of strategy and wit in a playing field far too small, too simple for the both of them.

Never occured to her that perhaps simple was really the answer.

The feeling of his hand at her own easily drew her attention and she watched him peruse the sharpness of her nail with curiosity. What was he expecting to find there other than the slim traces of his own dried blood beneath those tiny blades?

An outlet for more questions, of course.

Cera gave no immediate answer in any form though her expression did grow serious. Leaning towards him, face lowering beneath the line of her shoulder, she hunched just over the man from her vantage point of sitting above him. Hovering there with her hair skimming the edges of his face, pink lips split and jaw parted to bare to him the lethal collection of gleaming fangs she'd kept so quietly hidden within her solemn expressions. Savage tools crafted to rend flesh and sinew from bone, for the feast of a predator. Sustenance was only part of the need for blood - it kept her civil. Mostly.

The show was not made in threat, merely in response, and she hid away her weapons moments later as if she somehow found their presence in her mouth distasteful. Pale eyes looking down at him, awaiting judgement of the man who could not abide the murder of a known criminal now that he knew he'd just told the tiger she couldn't have her prey.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

His eyes grew wide but not out of fear or judgment. The show of teeth, the sharp cut of her finger nails. Her basic mannerism, even when attempting to hide it, mixed with her movement and the way she gripped Tulla through the swamp. It was evident that she was built as a predator, more so than his mixing of Arkanian and Kiffar. His eyes grew wide because his question was answered. A simple head nod would have sufficed, but he once again found himself appreciating her expressiveness.

Leaning up, noticing that she had failed to make her mark in the sand, he placed his thumb against his bottom canine tooth and closed his lips. Sucking on the wound, he tilted his head as he reached up to push strands of hair from her face.

"If you smiled more, I wouldn't ask all these dumb questions." He smiled, accepting and with a hint mocking mixed in. He wasn't sure he had done that yet, their interactions not moving to that level of comfort. But here on the beach, after the whole ordeal, he seemed to not be entirely worried about it. It, being her tiny little fists and that potent left hook.

She may have killed someone and wanted to kill another, but Gabe was no Jedi. And he had killed plenty in his time in this universe. If she needed blood to survive, who was he to judge her.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

A brow of little faith lofted at the remark. Cera had her doubts that a smile would have staved off this man's dumb questions. Those seemed to be part and partial to his personality and demeanor and she wondered, very briefly, if it was simply a farce he played to make himself seem more unassuming. There was nothing frail or fragile about him, at least not by what she'd see thus far.

Eyes rolled gently, a puff of laughter exited her nose, the woman leaned to make her mark finally in the sand.

_ | X | _
_ | O | _
_ | O | X


[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Yeah, maybe you're right..." He responded quietly to her eye roll and laughter, at least in a form that could be considered such. It was odd, he couldn't recall her doing that before. Or maybe the last two days had been long enough to make the rest of the time spent wondering around the shop seem fuzzy. Eyes drifted down as she moved to make her mark in the sand. He squinted, analyzing her move as she pulled away from the game. Smiling, he scooted over, blocking her view of the tic-tac-toe boxes as he quickly went to work.

_ | O | _
_ | O | _
X | O | X

Leaning back up, he looked at the boxes, feigning shock as he gestured to the sand. "I honestly can't believe you just left that top center box open." He revealed just a hint of a smile as he looked back towards Cera, full of all sorts of brazen and silent attitude. He wouldn't be controlled by those little fists. Or fear of them.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

!!

Shocked. Appalled. Eyebrows flew upwards to disappear into her hairline while darkly rimmed eyes went wide. Cera's lips parted in a partial jaw hang of disbelief, the tips of those fangs peeking out. For several seconds she stared at the game before her gaze ever so slowly panned back to the man with mischief written all over his face.

Her own face said it all without saying anything. You're a big, fat cheat Gabriel Sionoma.

One hand lifted to plant against his face, pushing him back into the sand. In another motion it flicked forward to erase the game from the sand in playful exasperation.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

There it was again, a smile. Even if it was flooded with all manner of disbelief. A smile was a smile. Her hand, not fist, came up to plant against his forehead. But he was a man of instinct so he did what made sense at the time. As she pushed against his forehead with that monstrous strength, though likely tempered back a good deal, he grabbed at her wrist and pulled her along with him. She might knock away her very evident loss of tic-tac-toe, but not before he brought her down with him.

Hitting the sand softly, he let out something mixed between a grunt and a laugh.

[member="Cerusia Darke"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The man apparently liked to take risks, which spoke either of extreme stupidity or extreme confidence. Cera wasn't quite sure which one was more likely, but the certainty of engaging her rampant predatory self seemed to be assured no matter what it was. An action made in innocent play, no harm meant, triggered instinctive reaction.

She was but a blur of burgundy waves and shadow that left behind a sting on his chest where her captured hand had planted and the nails dug in. Wrist torn from his grasp faster than he could blink, one moment she was over him wafting the faint scent of lavender with her closeness, silent threat of bared fangs hovering over his face, the next she was standing several feet away breathing deeply.

That she hadn't actually attacked him was likely due in part to the closeness of her holocron ... perhaps also his scent was beginning to have its effect. Bristling, purple flashes rolled with intense exhaustion for her unfettered self, peeling from the man in the sand to the mouth of the cave. A long, tense released of breath and she was off, strides measured with purpose.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]