Private The Communion of the Dark

[Donne Toulemonde]

A sound akin to the passing of a sonic boom and the sonorous roll of thunder exploded in the calm of the night, shaking Donne into consciousness. She sat up, eyes frantically searching for signs of a disturbance within her room, nestled in the comfort of a large bed. She threw off her covers, sweat clinging to her skin like thick treacle. She robed herself, tying the chord of silk around her dark chemise, and walked barefoot towards the large pane of glass that held the centre of the room's focus. She glared out into the extreme darkness, looking with some futility for a sign of light.

A flash.

She shook her head, unsure as to whether the disturbance had been in her mind's eye or a physical occurrence outside in the gloom. She breathed a sigh, a moment to readjust to being awake after a restless sleep. She had been played by dreams, visions that had consumed her. She thought on them once again.

A flash. A…

She couldn't recall them. They had been so lifelike and real and yet now, in her waking moments, they had dissolved like ice under the heat of the sun.

She looked out again over the dark terrain.

A flash.

Where was she? She turned slowly. She looked about the room, noticing for a recognisable feature that might allay her fears and remind her of where in the galaxy she was. It was so strange for her not to remember but the dreams had been so lifelike that perhaps it was causing a momentary lapse of consciousness.

She didn't know where she was or what she was doing.

She walked towards the bed, laying down and breathing heavily. Perhaps she was asleep still and this vision was part of that. She might sleep and in doing so, wake herself from the fallacy she found herself trapped inside.

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[Erion Justeene]

It started well, he was lying in the grass, the sky clear as sapphire. He was at peace, his apprentice has been gone and off his hands for the last year. It was a very stagnant life, something needed to change and the question is, how can he, himself fulfil his desires?

Claiming and training Apprentices is not doing anything for him now, it was a chore to teach another sentient and his short fuse has grown shorter.

Then he sunk into the soil as if he is being sucked into a sinkhole, the soil smothering his being, then he fell, from wherever he sunk to. A flash of deep blood red lightning hit a stone outcrop, the rubble splashing into pools of slime-filled waters, purple gunge overflowing the banks. Superious bore witness, high above, flying without any mechanical help. The sky was red as if something was glowing in the sky.

He saw a planet as red as blood, looming overhead, the lightning tore the sky apart, soundless and burning, he can feel it in his bones. This is not a normal thing, he's never dreamed this vividly or lucidly. He pitched forward and fell like a stone, accelerating towards a large mountain, it was like obsidian, the spikes glinting beneath the hellishly red planet like knives raising to impale him, he then fell into the hole and landed between the wall and his bed with a painful smash.

He had been floating again, the force held him aloft as he slept.

Superious pulled himself free from where he landed and sat on the edge of his bed. Holocron floating in his hand, pensive, that was the third time this week this has happened. Something is not all as it appears. The thing about dreams is that 10 minutes later, they disappear from memory. He has tried to record what he saw, so far all attempts fail.

It was barely past midnight according to the Chrono on the wall. Already he began to forget what he had dreamt of already. But he questioned if that was a dream at all.

Dreams don't repeat themselves.

 

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

Tag: Donne Toulemonde | Erion Justeene

Kerstan was on Yavin 8, in his lab. The location was still a secret save for one, and she no longer came to visit. His creation had been perfect, and the day finally came when she realized that she no longer needed him. That was worse than realizing she no longer wanted him. Rejection was a thing Kerstan could handle, but knowing his creation no longer needed him, that was hard.

Yet, it was inevitable.

He had made her with free will, a thing he would not repeat in his next creations. Soldiers that had the ability to disobey were not soldiers. Kerstan would see them conditioned to never question an order, to never deny their master and maker. Still, there had been something Kerstan realized in it all. He had allowed her presence to become a distraction.

While he pined for her loss, Kerstan had ignited the fact Indupar's throne was still vacant, and still not his. He would have to remedy that.

The final beaker was placed back on the table. The sterile and cold lab was always kept immaculate. Kerstan was clean, despite the amount of blood on his hands. Everything was in its place, and the Sith kept his life just as compartmentalized. It was rare he allowed the two to bleed into the other. Outside the lab was a lush manor. Hidden in the cave was a palace none knew existed on the planet moon. Despite his appearance, Kerstan remained comfortable.

He lay on his bed. Sleep would not escape him this night.

A sudden explosion of thunder woke him from his sleep. It was still winter, and the rain he heard outside was not typical of winter. Eyes opened to find he was no longer on Yavin 8. The dirt and sky around him were red. The rain drops which hit his skin were like embers of fire, burning like acid. Tired feet drug toward the stone formation in the distant north.

Something drew him there.