The End Draws Nigh

[Seris Caine]

Coruscant

The world had more or less become home to him. There was little reason to leave and plenty of darkness to be rooted out. Sure, there had been the deal with the giant beast not long ago, but the rebel's behind that had not lived up to their billing. As per usual, no one had the strength of resolve to actually fight the darkness so much as they wanted to pretend that they did while sitting around and doing nothing but drawings worlds under their control in an effort to dissuade the darkness from attacking them. The galaxy was full of cowards with no backbone. If he had the will to lead things would be different, but after the last attempt, he had no desire for it. Lead by example. Kill Sith. That he could do.

Usually.

The last attempt hadn't really gone according to plan. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] hadn't died. Which, in reality, was probably a good thing. What a mess that situation was, too. According to [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], the simpering rule by emotion idiot that she was, the little Sith had actually been a distant member of his family, which meant he had violated his own rule about not harming family. Of course, that was easy to do when the knowledge of the relationship wasn't readily available and she hadn't exactly been forthcoming. Which was, of course, the fault of Katrine for not telling her about her family.

To be fair, he had handled the situation rather poorly. The girl hadn't been doing anything wrong and as far as he knew she hadn't recently anyway. There hadn't really been a reason for him to cut her down despite her being a Sith. That was just what he did. The Sith code was one of violence, destruction, manipulation, and death. By adhering to it, she was a menace to the galaxy that had to be dealt with. That was just the way things were. It wasn't personal. He hadn't felt any hatred for her. It was just about protecting the galaxy from the destruction she could and inevitably would cause. The family name she bore was a testimony of what would come from her eventually, and he couldn't let that happen.

She was going to come for him, though. Given the way his interaction with Katrine had gone he knew she would. Anger was the way of the Sith and she probably didn't care to control it. The Force guided him, and as such the knowledge of her arrival was somewhat foretold. Not directly, of course. It was more of a feeling that something was coming, and the recognition that the most obvious thing was her. So he sat within one of the sky gardens, alone, and waited for her arrival.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Her spell was almost ready. The last few remains of it she would put in place later. But before Scherezade ceased to exist, she wanted to return to Coruscant, to see it a final time. A place that had been her second home away from Ryloth even though she wasn't a fan of cities in general or its smell in specific. A place where she had lived, and breathed, and loved. A place where she had been almost killed, and the place she had been brought back from the brink of death just so instead of her body being killed, it was her soul and her heart that shattered.

And now this planet was nothing but pain for her, and by coming here, she realized she was just hurting herself even more. One empty bottle that had contained liquor was tossed into a nearby bin. Another was already in her hands as she leaned back and drank heavily from it.

She supposed though, that her pain did not matter. Would not matter. Not to those who claimed to love her only to then throw her away like yesterday's socks. She had been betrayed, hurt, broken, and now was expected no, he had demanded that she fixed it. Demanded that she come and be like a good broken in puppy. Bow her head down to those who had taken her love only to abuse it.

No. Her pain didn't matter. And what worse, she'd known. She supposed she'd always known, but that last conversation… The last conversation had not let her with just knowing, it had left her with the comprehension, that Scherezade deWinter had no place in this galaxy. Her brother was dead, she was unworthy of going to her ancestral home planet, the man she loved chose her sister and her sister chose him in a choice that was finalized next to her near-corpse. Because she was redundant to them both, whatever they said otherwise.

And she had tried… She had tried, so hard. She had tried to fit in with the Confederacy. She had tried to make those she loved feel like they were worth everything. She had tried to do her best for them. She tried… And it was all for nothing. Scherezade deWinter was someone that no one could truly love. Not when that love meant she could be tossed aside, meant that she was expendable to those who claimed to love her. Not when given even the lowest of alternatives, she would never be chosen first for anything.

And she could have handled it. She could have handled it if she'd just had… Someone. Something. But by the time people took an interest in her, she was already broken, already shattered beyond repair. She could not be a true friend to Josh or Daisy because of how damaged she was. Damaged good. That was what she was. And sure, she had managed to bring her Aunt Asteria and Uncle Angelo together after seven centuries. And while she was genuinely happy for them, it only emphasized to her that she, would never have something like that. Not even close.

So here she was, on Coruscant. A final time. She had worked into her spell a few thigs to make sure the new person who'd inhabit her body would never set foot there again.

Monument Plaza. The last place where she got to love and feel loved, even if on the inside she had been praying that evening to be loved as she loved. A wasted prayer, that no one could ever answer. But she had been so happy that night. And now… Here she was, sitting on a bench, the tears rolling own her face. She drank again.

She thought she had looked so beautiful that night. Her hair had been a wild mess after the stunts she'd pulled while learning to drive a speeder. After being made love to between the trees, in that one spot that was hidden so you couldn't see any of Coruscan't skylines from between them. Thinking that promises made would be kept.

And now she looked like crap. The Darkness had never ceased chasing her, not since she'd spent years in it after the Jedi had nearly killed her. It chased her while she dreamed, so she had stopped sleeping, always waking up before the REM phase started. She felt the pain with every breath she took, so she drank. Heavily. She couldn't even eat since every bite reminded her of him. Her skin had become paper thin, though she had put on some weight. Probably the liquor. Dark bags decorated her eyes, which, in an ironic twist of fate, had begun to glow.

Scherezade deWinter knew she was a shame. A shame to her family, a shame to the three bloodlines that ran through her veins, an insult to existence itself.

And tomorrow… Tomorrow, Scherezade deWinter would cease to exist. All that was left was seeing Coruscant one final time.


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

Her arrival was felt, though he kept his presence hidden. Meditation was a good way to rejuvenate the body, but it came with its own perils. Having some Sith or creature of the Sith show up and attack would have defeated the purpose entirely. But he did feel her. Dark, yet full of pain. It was an odd thing to think that he could worry for someone he had nearly killed, but he was a complex being who knew what it meant to feel pain. He knew how hard it was. Most of all, he could feel. Unlike most who took up the mantle of Jedi, he did not shun the feelings of who he was. He couldn't and he wouldn't. To do so would be to deny everything that made him alive. That just wasn't acceptable to him.

Instead, he embraced it but didn't allow emotions to control him. Everything was a calculated affair. Calculations, as always, could go awry, but they didn't do so without reason. It wasn't the kind of control expected among Sith, to be sure, but there was a sense of control within him. It was what drove him to be who he was: a sith hunter. But it also drove him to be different from everyone else, which was why he had never fit in anywhere in all of his years of traversing the galaxy.

There was no armor adorning his person. He wore a simple Corellian jacket and trousers, with lightsabers clipped to his belt. Dressing like a Jedi was best left to those who purveyed themselves as such. Boots carried him away from the sky garden, and he hopped on a transport line back down to the planet proper. Nobody really paid much mind, though there were a few who pointed out the lightsabers and whispered among themselves. They were ignored, as almost all people were. If they weren't a threat there was no point in interacting with them. If his old Master's had been hanging around they would have said he had become detached from the reality around him. He would have agreed with them, but then shrugged it off because it didn't matter.

The only attachment worth having was family.

When he found her she was sitting on a bench, drinking. Alone, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, tears rolling down her cheeks. He watched from the shadows for a time, studying her, knowing that this was going to end in her lashing out because she was hurting. A wounded animal would always lash out. She was still like Shery to an extent. By virtue of her blood she wouldn't be able to escape that reality, but in watching her, and having heard what Katrine had to say, he couldn't help but feel that she could be different. Yes, he had judged quickly before, but in hindsight, he would have done the same thing again. Given the information he'd had to go on at the time, the course he had taken was the right one, but as in all things, the will of the Force prevailed, and she lived on.

There wasn't much time left for him anymore, so he saw no reason not to endure the pain of her attacking him. As ironic as it was, maybe he could help her?

Reaching out through the Current, he enveloped the two of them in it, so there was no one else around them. The Current worked as a fold in the Force, something akin to taking them out of the present plain of time and space and into a separate, adjacent one. All the people disappeared, just as they disappeared from around all the people. Here they could be alone, and not cause a disturbance that would send the streets of Coruscant into yet another panic. There was no reason to bother them, even if he didn't really care for the people of Coruscant the way he had years ago. Their depravity was too much.

"Katrine told me you survived," he said as he stepped from the shadows and into view. "And yet you seem to be killing yourself instead of living. Why?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She hadn't known he was there. Drowning in her own pain, her senses through the Force and through the Blood were dampened, her eyes fixed at a random point on the ground. If anyone stared, if anyone saw, if anyone had to say anything, she was too far gone in her emotions to take note of any of it. Even when the White Current began to form, it wasn't until it was fully in place that she even realized something had changed. It was a wonder she hadn't gotten herself killed in these months of being broken.

Looking up, glowing emerald eyes fell on him. On Kamon Voniranach. She should have been afraid, she knew. Her fighting abilities hadn't advanced enough to be able to take him in a fight. She should have been terrified, the scar left on top of her heart still serving a reminder to what had begun the chain of events that occurred last time she was on Coruscant. She should have been trying to run away.

But upon seeing him… It stirred no emotion in her broken heart. It gave no alarm in her broken soul.

Scherezade sighed. So Katrine had told him she'd survived. How nice of her. Was he here by her demand, somehow? Had she convinced him to come apologize and then try to convince her to go fix things with the woman who she once thought was a sister to her?

"My body survived," she answered, unable to veil the pain from her voice, unable to keep any of it on the inside, "did she tell you she shattered my heart and soul about five minutes after I woke up from that ordeal?"

Now she focused her gaze on him. That question would answer his question all on its own.

"If you're here on her behalf, release the White Current and leave me alone. If you're here to finish what you couldn't last time, get it over with."

Her fingers moved, clumsily, as she shuffled the top of her shirt around, the round scar of his lightsaber firmly in place above her heart. Because of what Katrine had done, it looked like it had been there for years and nor for a few months. But then again, Scherezade had spent years in the Darkness. Perhaps its appearance matched what she had been through. And still. It'd be a shame if he wanted to kill her, considering her work over the past few days. But if he wanted to kill her, she had no fight or resistance to offer him.

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

"She did not," he said, shaking his head.

Whatever had transpired between Scherezade and Katrine had been kept private, at least in the greater details. Katrine had blamed him for losing her, but with what was said, it didn't seem that was the case. Something had transpired after she was saved that had ruined her. Or, ruined her relationship, but not necessarily her. The pain he sensed within her hadn't swelled the way he had expected it to when she saw him. Instead of attacking, she told him to get it over with as if she had no intention of fighting back. That seemed doubtful but didn't explain the way she was acting. The girl was broken. Everything about her was wrong, and it stirred in him a sadness he had not thought he could feel again. Remorse.

Instead of attacking her, he walked over and sat down on the bench beside her. Whatever she knew of him, and what he had done in the past, had jaded her vision of him in such a way that it was going to make her distrustful of anything he had to say. He couldn't say he blamed her. In her position, he wouldn't be trusted either.

"I haven't spoken to her since I told her she wasn't worthy of her position. I am here for my own reasons, but not to kill you."

Whether she believed him or not didn't really matter. He could sense as much as see that she either didn't have much time left or had every intention of cutting her life short. Why was the question to be answered. Katrine, for all her anger, still cared for Scherezade. She falsely blamed him for losing her, and it seemed his assumption of such had been correct. The blame was squarely on Katrine's shoulders in more ways than one. She hadn't told Scherezade that Kamon was family, and then she'd done something to betray her immediately after nursing her back to health. In a strange way, Kamon had opened the young Sith's eyes to the reality of what those around her were like. Not something he would take credit for. That knowledge had clearly harmed her more than his sabers had.

Twisting in the seat, he turned his eyes upon her.

"Why are you wasting yourself away?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

As he sat on the bench, Scherezade shifted sideways, inching herself closer to its edge. Drunk or not, about to cease existing or not, she was still uncomfortable with physical closeness from most people, and that extended to sharing benches. She didn't actually want to get up though; for now, the foot or so separating them would suffice.

She had no idea what Kamon was talking about. She did not know when they'd spoken or why he's told Katrine she wasn’t worthy of her position. It was not the first time she'd heard it, but… But the other time had come from a Jedi as well, albeit worded differently. Yes, yes, Vondiranach claimed he was not a Jedi. Everything else she had been told went directly against that, but she was not about to argue semantics.

"If you're not here to kill me, and you're not here on her behalf," she asked, still looking into the distance and not directly at him, "then why are you here?"

It was a big planet. He could go anywhere on it. It was a big galaxy. He could go anywhere in it. What was the point of this if he had no intention of finishing the job he failed at completing the previous time?

Scherezade could feel his eyes on her. Even through her boozy fog, it made her uncomfortable. "And that's none of your business," she answered, "don't pretend to care or be interested."


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

Of course not. Don't pretend to care. Nearly the exact same words that Katrine had said when she came across him slaying Sithspawn that had been left over from the Sith invasion of the world. The two clearly knew the Vondiranach family playbook: always tell Kamon not to pretend he cares because it's easier than realizing he does. Was he supposed to get angry and slay everyone he was related to when they did something he didn't like? Or perhaps he was supposed to hate everyone? Contrary to popular belief, Kamon did, in fact, love his family. Scherezade may not be a blood relative, but she was still part of the family and he was drawn to a desire to help her, even if she didn't want it.

"Don't pretend to care... I've heard that many times over the years," he said, looking up at the sky. "My kids, Spencer and Aston anyway, said it often enough. Katrine said it when she came to accuse me of ruining you and attacking family. Nevermind the fact I didn't know you were. And now you've said it, too. I should take the hint, but I won't."

Eyes turned back to her and studied her. So different from that spunky, quick-witted girl he'd met before. Everything about her was wrong. There wasn't a chance of him being able to help her, he knew that. The girl was suffering something that was beyond the realm of the physical. The wounds he'd given her were minimal by comparison to whatever plagued her soul. He could offer, but in the end, he would let her down, so there was no point in doing so. Instead, he would talk, and maybe, if she would hear it, give her a suggestion of someone who could help her. There were people out there with talents beyond his. People in his own family, and by proxy her family, who could do things to help her that he would never be able to understand.

What he did know was fighting, however. And as such, he knew when to give up and when to push on. Wars weren't won by those who sat on the sidelines or backed down in the face of adversity. Just as he hadn't earned anything from his children until he had made a distinct effort to try and be something more than just the person who helped create them. It took effort.

It also took someone who understood the pain she felt. Heartache was a powerful thing, even if there was something else underneath. The heartache was why she wallowed in alcohol rather than just ending her life immediately. She felt something, and that feeling caused her pain, and her mind wanted to absorb that pain rather than let it go. It told him that she still had reason to live despite what was going on inside of her. It told him that he had to at least try to fight for her, even though he had maligned her heavily in the past. She deserved the effort. He didn't expect her to ever forgive him for attacking her, but at the least, he could make an effort to keep her from doing something foolish.

"You're killing yourself and you shouldn't, so of course I care. I made a mistake and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I expect you to help me to understand the underlying cause of this. I know it isn't just heartache that has you wanting to die. I knew there was more to you the first time we met. There's no reason to fight against telling me. You're going to die anyway, right? What's telling me going to hurt?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Attacking family? Scherezade blinked, her eyes finally moving from the spot they'd been glued to on the ground, and up to look at him. Family? There was nothing in her memories about a joining of deWinters and Vondiranachs. Sure, her grandmother and her brother hadn't exactly guarded their breeding choices carefully, but there was still nothing about… Wait. Family. Hawks. Force. She wasn't even part of that family anymore and they still wanted to make her vomit. Katrine and her betrayal, Curupira, the abandoning mother. It was better to be an orphan than be related to any of them.

"We are not family," she said, blinking. "Whatever connection there might have been the last time we met and we did not know about, it is gone, severed. I told Katrine that we were no longer family, that I was no longer her sister, that I was no longer related in any form or shape to any of the Hawks. I didn't tell her that this included the more extended branches but that's still sort of a given."

And Katrine had been hurt at those words. Scherezade remembered that night all too well. She remembered the Force Scream. She also remembered that Katrine had people to turn to, because she had an actual family, and she had Gerwald. Scherezade didn't have anyone. No one cared when she banged her head against the pavement until her forehead split open. No one cared when she'd skinned her back with her knives to get rid of the Mandragora's claim on her. No one cared when she'd broken her own hands against the walls of the Fortessa because she'd been in pain after seeing Katrine and Gerwald.

Josh had told Katrine that her actions had made Scherezade want to die and Katrine still didn't care. Didn't do anything. The only time any of them had come was two days ago when Gerwald came to demand that she crawled back to Katrine to fix things, because it was apparently all her fault.

"You made a mistake all right," Scherezade said gravely, pausing only to take another long drink from her bottle. Ship fuel, someone had called it once. It was all she could afford. Even the bacta had run out, and she didn't have the credits to place it. "You made a mistake when you didn't kill me. I don't know how much you've actually lived if you're in my grandmother's memories, but you've existed for long enough to know better than that."

How did he know she was going to die? Well. She wasn't really dying… She was more… "There is no place for my in this galaxy," she said at last, "so I'm leaving it."


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

"To be fair, I had killed you. They brought you back, somehow. I won't pretend to know the ways of the Witches, but they know many things," he said, shaking his head. "As for the rest, she still considers you such even if you don't accept it. As such, I do as well."

He manipulated the current enough to where the glass she was holding was no longer in it. The stench from it was enough to make his nostrils flare. At the least, she could drink something that was actually halfway decent. Firewhiskey or Whyren's reserve would be good. Not that she was Corellian, so she didn't really have the penchant for drinking either of those that he did, but they were the best he knew. That being the case, he wasn't going to let her drink herself into a stupor until he convinced her to give the galaxy one more chance. It wasn't going to be easy, and he expected her to hate him even more for it, but it was what had to be done and he wasn't going to stop until he succeeded.

"There's a place for everyone in this galaxy. Even the Sith have their place in it. That mongrel Darth Carnifex even serves his purpose."

Now there was a beast that could do with killing more than Scherezade could. If he had to choose between Carnifex and Shery, that would be a tough one. Shery was more diabolical, but Carnifex had the followers that destroyed everything. A tough choice. This, however, was not a tough choice.

"What do you crave most? What in life do you desire that has been denied you and as such makes you want to leave everything, and everyone, behind?"

Not that he had any room to talk given what he was planning to do in the near future. His time in the galaxy was coming to an end, but he had lived a long and full life. There was much heartache and strife in it, the loss of many that should never have been lost, the pain of being a poor father, but he had enjoyed many moments as well. It was time for him to move on and leave the galaxy to those who dwelled in it, and the next generation of Vondiranach's. Spencer was more than capable, and Aston would eventually snap out of his idiotic love for alcohol and wasting his life. Barrien was making a name for himself among the Jedi, even if he was doing so quietly. There was another as well, but they had never met and never would. Probably for the best.

It was Barrien that he was going to turn to for Scherezade's sake. That Jedi would know best how to help her.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"Almost dead is not dead," she responded. No. Whatever Katrine had done, there had been no bringing back from the dead, only from the brink of it. "Probably a few minutes away from it though," she shrugged, "Witches aren't omnipotent." There were ways to bring back the dead, though. But bottom line, she hadn't actually died. She wished she had though. Many times over.

Katrine still considered her family? Somewhere inside Scherezade, she wanted to be happy about it. But no, she knew better. Most of her was just angry at the mere thought of it. "So I have no say, again?!" she almost screamed, one of her legs kicking the air. "We are not family. I'm not one of the shiny toys for her to randomly collect!"

And then her bottle was gone. This time she did get up, the glow of her eyes landing direction on Vondiranach, the anger flashing through the pain. "You give that back and you give that back right now!" she almost growled. What the krakking hell was it with people think they could just take her bottles away?! The rest of his words landed on deaf ears. She would not listen to him, not to a single word of it, until she had her bottle back.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Scherezade unclipped one of her lightsabers from her belt, igniting the green beam that matched her eyes. A present from a Jedi Battlemaster.

Her hand shook as she aimed it at Vondiranach, but it didn't matter. Everyone tried to manipulate her into doing what they wanted. It wasn't going to work. If he wanted to talk, he'd better get her bottle back or get something better. Otherwise she'd either kill him or get him to kill her.


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

"Of course you have a choice. You have a choice whether to reciprocate the sentiment or not," he said, watching her anger come out.

That was the part of her he had expected to see as soon as he made his presence known to her. To be frank, he was amazed she hadn't gotten angry at him sooner than she had. It wouldn't have been unjustified. Given what had been done to her, nobody really deserved anything but her ire. That being said it was amazing that it took as long as it did. Granted she was acting like she had the right to tell people how they felt, which she didn't. That was probably a holdover if her ancestry. Shery had always been the type to try and control people. Or it could be a product of no one teaching her how to be an adult.

And then came the lightsaber. He was surprised by the green blade, but it didn't bother him in any way. Crystals typically chose their owner. There was no hard and fast rule that said sith were confined to using a red or orange saber, nor was there one that said Jedi could not. It just often worked out that way. He looked at the saber and then back up to her. She was angry about the alcohol, but he wanted to talk without her drowning herself.

"Finish talking to me and I'll get you something better than that nasty stuff you were drinking. At least the last drink you have will be worthy of such then."

He didn't seem bothered by the blade in his face, which was likely because he wasn't. It wasn't as if he'd never had one there before. Many times he had been stabbed by a blade, or worse. Several times he had been killed by them. He always came back, though. There wasn't anything for her to do with it but waste her time. She might get out some of her anger and frustration, but he would just come back as always, and her efforts futile. It would just leave her more frustrated than she already was.

"I won't pretend to understand everything you tell me. I'm a warrior, not an intellectual. But I can understand some from experience and I want to help you. So let me at least try. If I cant, then what harm will it have done?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"No!" she yelled at him. More manipulations. Oh sure, just tell him everything he wanted to in order to get her bottle back. Her other hand removed the twin saber and she ignited it as well. She'd burn his head off his neck if he'd keep playing it like that. It was unfair, unfair that not even in this should get what she wanted. Everyone wanted something out of her. Like apologies, like being a pet, like keeping her head down, like information. She was done. DONE! She would no longer exist tomorrow. She didn't deserve her last day as herself to suck like this.

"I'm finished talking to you," she said, no longer yelling, but definitely not calm, "now give it back or bring that other stuff. Now."


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

Kamon sighed.

"No," he said.

This wasn't a game of her getting to do what she wished. She hadn't had a parent before. She hadn't had someone to look out for her and so she was rejecting it because she could only see what had been done to her before. She couldnt see that he was trying to help her and that sometimes helping was a good thing. There was something wrong with her and it was killing her. He had to do what he could to help her because that was who he was. Even if it meant giving up himself to do it. He would. His life was trivial but she was young and had much to live for if she would choose to do so.

"Im not trying to hurt you. I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to give you a chance in life. It's your choice whether to take it or run me through, but you'd be wasting your effort. Only someone of my blood can kill me for good, and I've felt enough pain to not be bothered by it."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"Oh yeah?!" Scherezade spat back, "I could cut your head off and put it in a jar. How would you like to be alive while you head's floating somewhere in space until some random gravitation grabs it and you end up potentially planets away from the rest of your body?!"

She could do it. She felt like she had it in her to be that cruel, even if she'd never actually been. Sure, there was that instance on Maramere where she'd contaminated the pirates' drinking water so when the Confederates showed up their enemies were quite literally poodoo'ing their pants, but surely a floating head in space was worse than that?

And that still wouldn't solve her immediate problem. She didn't know what he'd done to her bottle, where it was. Sure, there was another one resting next to the bench, but first of all, those things cost credits, and second, there was nothing promising her he wouldn't make that one disappear as well. She didn't know how to control the White Current; she didn't know even what exactly it was or how she could control it. She just wanted her bottle back.

"Look, I'll tell you whatever the krak you want. But give me back my stuff first or I'm going to make you suffer."


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

"No means no," he said, shaking his head. "Just remember, kill me and you're trapped in here forever. I brought you in and I'm your only way out."

Somewhat true. He didn't have to make any effort to keep them hidden the way they were, and as long as he was present the illusion would stay in place. Given that she didn't appear to have any knowledge of such, he doubted she would find a way out without him. It hadn't been intentional, trapping them there. That was just a byproduct of wanting to keep their interaction from the public eye. He wasn't trying to hurt her, he wasn't trying to control her. Those were just symptoms of trying to find out what was going on. Necessary symptoms. She was going to have to live with them.

"Just relax, have a seat, and talk. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to make you change your mind. I'm not going to tie you up and take you off somewhere to keep you from dying. It's your right to die how you wish. But you're too young to be this way. So let me at least try to help you. You don't have to take my advice but I want to try."

He motioned back to the bench.

"Please."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Stuck forever. Scherezade had been in that situation before. Twice. The first time she had been trapped without knowing any better. Just a baby, unable to even form coherent thoughts inside her mind. The second time… The second time she had gotten herself out, and the price… She didn't always think it was worth it, getting herself out. It had taken relying on a promise and once it had happened, all the other ones had been broken and shattered.

"No always means no just for one of the parties involved," she glared at him, "you want me to tell you chit, you bring back what you took. I can kill you and stay trapped here. I've been trapped in worse. I'll find my way out eventually."

And maybe then there would be some mercy involved. Maybe by then, it would be hundreds or thousands of years and those that had broken her would not even be a written memory anywhere and she would have another genuine chance at starting anew, without all the crap that stuck to her like flies to bantha dung.

"And for the record," she added, "I'm over seven hundred years old, so don't take that condescending tone with me. I'm not what I appear. Bottle. Now."


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

"I'm still older than you and age means little anyway," he said, making her other bottle disappear as a result of her attitude.

Someone needed to be an adult with this girl. It was fairly obvious that no one had ever tried. Not that he was the best candidate for it considering his record of being a rather horrible parent, but at least that was mostly due to him not being there and had little to do with his actual attitude towards it. She wasn't going to like it, those her mental age rarely did, but it was done for a reason. If they had to remain together until she sobered up or died then so be it. He didn't have anything pressing to do.

Though he didn't really care to get run through by a lightsaber again, either.

Still, it was important. Latrine still cared about the girl, and as she was Satara's descendant, he still viewed her as family. She might be a spoiled little brat who couldn't think without emotion, but that didn't change facts. Like the fact he hadn't known Scherezades relation. That should have made a difference, but apparently, it meant little to the girl playing Witch. Nothing like Satara. The apple had fallen far with that one.

"Feel free to try finding your way out. You'll be here until you do, or until you act like an adult and sit down to have a conversation. If you want to be a brat just like Katrine, then continue. If you want to be an adult then stop, sit down, and talk. It's your choice."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Her made her other bottle disappear. Scherezade screamed with anger. She was so tired. He could talk all he wanted about how he was not trying to manipulate her and how he was he trying to help, but he was not. He was trying to make her worse. She thought too fast if she wasn't under the influence of the liquor, felt too fast. It did little to nothing to diminish the voracity with which she felt and she just wanted it to stop. It was made worse by her body being too strong for its own good, filtering out the effects at such a rate that she had to drink constantly, or things would get too painful for her.

"I told you I'd talk to you, you stupid butthole," she screamed at him, "all I'm asking is for my bottles back! Now give them back! For what you've done to me, you owe me at least that much. All you're doing now is making everything worse!"

To demonstrate, Scherezade grabbed one of her knives, and the gray smoke whirled up instantly as it transformed into the Sword of Darkness. It was the first time she'd called it intentionally, knowing it might be that she would have to actually use it. Other than the time she'd tried to kill Katrine because she thought she was still in the Darkness, she hadn't done so. She could feel the darkness and the despair oozing out of the sword's presence so acutely, mingled with the rest of the stuff that came from it.

"The only reason I can control this sword right now is because the liquor is already evaporating from me," she said quietly, but it was not a voice of defeat. The predator was coming out now, her whispers giving off danger rather than meekness or shyness. "So stop flexing your muscles and trying to make a stupid point. I am not Katrine. I am Scherezade, and I demand my bottles back. I've already agreed to giving you what you want after that."

And with that, she angled the Sword at him, her hands horribly steady this time.

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Seris Caine]

Making everything worse. An interesting concept since the alcohol was what really did that. Perhaps she used it to hide from the reality of dealing with what happened to her. It was entirely possible. Perhaps she was just weak and couldn't resist the temptation. Either way, she wasn't getting the stuff back anytime soon. She was going to have to deal with who and what she was regardless of how much it hurt. It was the only way she could grow up. He knew that from experience. Alcohol would do nothing but make her a weak, blithering mess. It wasn't going to make her feel good forever, but it would kill her eventually. What was the sense in that?

And he was, of course, proven right when she summoned a sword to her hand which belched darkness at him. He shuddered and felt a cold chill run down his back, but having had a dark side amulet imbedded in his body at one point, he had learned how to deal with such things. A glow washed over him. It swept from head to toe, not stopping. After a moment, the shivering and discomfort was gone. Nothing was left but calm complacency as blue eyes stared at the girl holding the blade.

"You aren't getting the alcohol back. You had a chance to make a choice and you've made it," he said, rising.

The darkside had a weakness, just as the light did, and that was its opposite. A stronger force of one could defeat the other. So, he stepped towards the outstretched blade, knowing it would inevitably pierce his body, and approached the girl that held it. No malice, no ill intent, but a definite not of concern written in the tone of voice and the features of his face. It was an odd thing making your first attempt at real parenting on someone else's child, but it was necessary.

"Stop hiding from what ails you. Stop wallowing in pity. Stop hating who you are. Instead, change. Become a better person, be more than whatever your ancestors wanted you to be. There are people that can help you, but you have to be willing and the alcohol will keep you from ever exhibiting your potential."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]