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Post by Erika Freeborn on Jul 8, 2010 11:18:09 GMT -5
Erika nodded slowly though she couldn't help but feel that even with her twin bond and being away from the hustle and bustle of the central planets that they would not find Chase. But she would try at least, anytime she wasn't busy with things related to the mission should would be searching for even the faintest of feelings of her brother. He had to be out there somewhere.
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Post by Jorunn Grimsdottir on Jul 9, 2010 10:29:27 GMT -5
Jorunn returns like a specter, taking her seat once more before either women notice her approach.
She munches happily on spiced burja nuts, though her chewing stops abruptly when he notices the sour mood of her table mates.
"Well......" she says, swallowing finally. "If I new this was going to turn into this, I would've just ordered out...."
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Post by Jet Almeara on Jul 9, 2010 11:09:14 GMT -5
Jet took Erika' nod and resulting silence as agreement and so concluded that the conversation - such as it had been was finished. She really didn't have anything more to lay out to her niece and after all of this if Erika still decided to live out her life on Dathomir well..there wasn't much Jet could do about it.
Glancing at Jorunn as she returned "Yes but have you seen the food served to the med patients..far less selection" She pointed out "In any case Erika and I are done badgering each other for the moment I think."
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Post by Erika Freeborn on Jul 9, 2010 11:53:58 GMT -5
Erika glanced up at Jorunn and then looked to Jet. "Wait, I thought we never stop badgering each other...it's like our family trait." Smiling slightly it was the best way she could try to made the current mood lighten, even though in the back of her mind she was not dwelling on many things that had not surfaced in a long time - mainly about her brother. But also she had many things to think on in regards to Dathomir.
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Post by Jorunn Grimsdottir on Jul 14, 2010 9:38:31 GMT -5
Jorunn manages a smile at the quips from both younger women (though she wasn't quite sure about Jet), realizing however that the mood has soured for the day. It was difficult for some people to just enjoy the company of others, choosing instead to play out their small power grabs and vendettas. Most people called that a "conversation," but she knew what it was....
"Well, I'm full, and I can probably finish this on the way back," she hefts her helping of spiced nuts, picking a few out and popping them in her mouth.
"So I guess," she says, while chewing, "I shall excuse myself."
She stands, performs a mock bow, and his on her way back to the med wing.
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Post by Jet Almeara on Jul 16, 2010 6:51:13 GMT -5
Jet watched Jorunn walk off, her retreat reminding her that she too needed to be back in the Med Labs shortly. She might have gotten Erika's attention a bit more - but that wasn't her only stresser at the moment. Turning back to Erika she gave her a smile "Well someone has to keep us on our toes We're not some Jedi family to be prancing through the daisies everyday" It was an old joke within the DJO and a favorite thing to harp on.
"In any case I should be getting back there as well, I trust you can keep things going in m absence for a bit longer?" Hopefully not to much longer she thought inwardly.
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Post by Erika Freeborn on Jul 19, 2010 11:43:15 GMT -5
Nodding a goodbye to Jorunn Erika then turned her attention back to Jet. Flashing a slightly disappointed look at her aunt she spoke. "Aww, and here I was hoping that I could help turn our faily into the prancing through the daisies type." But as soon as she had finished saying that a smile crept on her face but she managed to hold back the laugh. Of course when Jet switched the topic to keeping things in order in her absence Erika forced that smile into a more neutral expression. "Of course, it has thus far been pretty easy to keep things running with your people. But do try to get some rest huh." Sher herself should probably get going too to check on how things have been going today with the Corellians. "So, I best be on my way as well. I'll talk to you soon, I think we have things to discuss." Flashing her aunt that classic Storm smile Erika stood and with a quick stretch headed out of the mess hall.
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Post by Taaru Masako on Jul 19, 2010 12:18:07 GMT -5
The light becomes more bearable as it draws closer, flashes dimming into a steady source. He has been flying through cloud bank after smoky cloud bank, smelling of oil and chemical fires, with only the reflections of fires through the haze to light his surroundings. Where there are breaks in the clouds, there is only inky darkness: There are no heavenly bodies to chart his journey by.
His wings part the last cloud, and he sees now what he has been flying towards. A tower rises out of a sea of fog below, dotted by flashes of lightning (or explosions?) and the drumming of thunder. The tower is midnight obsidian, hard and geometrical and gothic. The light he has been searching for, the light that has drawn him here, sits atop it. It seems barely a fraction of what he'd seen at the shoreline.
He circles the tower, following it upwards, until he reaches the top: A wide platform with model minarets at four corners. The light is there, in the center, pulsing like a heartbeat.
He alights on the edge of the platform, the soles of his feet touching cold, smooth stone. Finally, he realizes what the platform is: A garden, arranged in concentric, terraced circles, with little waterways crashing through orthogonally to water the various plots. But no water flows, and nothing grows. Trees, if not bare, wear dead crowns. Where they aren't scorched and smoldering, beds of grasses and flowers are withered.
He sees stairs, leading up the terraces towards the epicenter of the platform. He follows them.
The light continues to pulse. It is coming from the highest terrace, where, he presumes, the source of water lies. As he nears it, it intensifies again. He winces, shielding black eyes from the blinding whiteness, as it engulfs him.
He opens his eyes again. The light has faded again. He stands at the edge of a pool....or...a fountain? Shallow water lies in it, but not high enough to reach over the lip of the waterways radiating out from it. He reaches down and dips his hand in the water: It is warm. He brings it to crack lips and tastes it: It is salty.
In the center of the pool lies a figure. It is the source of the light. As he approaches, its halo recedes, drawing closer to it.
It is a woman, sprawled as if struck down in the ankle-deep water. She wears only flowing rags of what may have once been graceful. It matches her golden hair, now frenzied, spilling down and floating still at the water's surface. Her back is turned to him, so that he cannot see her face.
She is sobbing.
"I am glad you are here. I have no more tears to shed," she says.
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Post by Jorunn Grimsdottir on Jul 19, 2010 12:21:47 GMT -5
Disposing of the empty wrapper on her way out the mess deck, Jorunn makes her way back to the mag lev station nearby.
As she plods down sterile halls bustling with activity, with no one to occupy her conversationally, her focus shifts inwards. The moment it does, a chill, and a dread feeling, wash over her.
Her plod turns into a panicked jog.
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Post by Jet Almeara on Jul 21, 2010 6:07:30 GMT -5
Jet watched as Erika left and might have lingered longer if her thoughts hadn't turned to Jorunn and Taaru, it was time to get back and while premonitions and foresight had never been one of Jet's strengths she always found it prudent to listen to her instincts. Her instincts were telling her to get back. If they had been on Corellia or any static hospital really this would have been handled with a simple shadowalk - but doing such on a ship in hyperspace was a bit of a different monster - so she made her way from the mess hall and towards the meg lev the way normal people did - albeit just a little bit faster then most of them could.
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Post by Taaru Masako on Jul 23, 2010 9:41:05 GMT -5
(("Ghosts of Reach", Martin O'Donnell, Halo 2 Official Soundtrack: Vol. I))
"You are the source." His response is more a statement than a question. His voice is voiceless, felt in the hollow spaces but never really heard.
"Yes. The last," she says, sitting up a little, composing what little dignity is left to her."
"And my prize?"
"Whatever you make of it. Whatever you want it to be," she says quietly, resigned, forlorn.
His midnight wings pulse in anger as he closes the last few steps between him and her and seizes her by her golden hair. She yelps in pain. The light shrinks even further, to become nothing but a faint aura surrounding her.
He still cannot see her face.
"You will answer!" he bellows, pulling a wicked blade and drawing a rivulet of blood from the flesh of her neck.
"There are no more answer, Demon. How can there be? You have laid them to waste. And you shall do the same to me."
Rage seizes him, the blade twitching against her throat.
"So be it," he says through fangs, driving the blade's tip into her back, between her ribs and into her heart. This he does effortlessly, as if blowing out a candle flame.
The only noise she makes is the sound of splashing water as she falls. Her light is gone now, and he can see her face.
He knows that face better than he knows his own, and the sound of his anguish is eternal and unyielding.
He opens his eyes.
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Post by Jorunn Grimsdottir on Jul 23, 2010 9:53:00 GMT -5
The distance between the nearest mag lev station and the medical wing had been covered at a sprint. A terrible dread had taken her, and nothing filled her mind now except returning to her vigil.
But when she arrives at the food of her father's bed, she finds her dread unwarranted. He lies as she left him: Unconscious and unmoving.
She braces her arms at the edge of the bed and breathes, dissipating her anxiety....and her disappointment.
She cannot stand to see him like this, or the constant waiting.
She turns her back on the bed, setting her palms to her face, an unconscious sign of her frustration and weariness.
Movement behind her? She pauses and turns.
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Post by Taaru Masako on Jul 23, 2010 10:00:31 GMT -5
His eyes hurt. He hasn't used them in a while.
They focus. An unfamiliar ceiling.
He looks down, and realizes he is lying on something: A medical cot?
At the foot of the bed is a woman with her back turned to him. He tries to reach out, to call out, to ask where he is, but everything is groggy and unresponsive, his arm merely shuffling at his side.
Then he recognizes her profile, and, still lost in the delirium of his nightmare, is gripped by terror.
She turns to face him, and he sees that face he knows so well.
<<Fath-?>> she begins to ask, but is interrupted by the sound of shattering glass.
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Post by Jet Almeara on Jul 23, 2010 10:20:37 GMT -5
Jet had hurried back to the med wing - inwardly cursing herself for leaving at all. How often had she seen conditions change in the blink of an eye? With the time she had collectively spent watching people lay unconscious in medical units you'd think she would have learned not to take anything for granted. She'd wanted to be there when he woke up - if only to see for herself that what woke up was indeed Taaru.
Brain injuries were funny that way. So when she stepped into the labs to the sound of shattering glass and a rolling wall of terror she inwardly flinched but continued forward anyways. Opening the door to the room seemed a bit pointless considering the gaping hole right beside it where a window used to be - but she did so anyways because it was normal and the doctors,nurses and other people in the labs would not be reassured if she vaulted through the window like a panicked animal - likewise with whatever was happening in the room she probably didn't need to startle Taaru or Jorunn anymore then they already were.
"Easy" She soothed in the most calming voice she could bring herself to project and ignoring the glass as she slipped inside trying to think and project peaceful steadying thoughts a she did so - too bad she really wasn't an empath. "Your okay, we're all okay...your in the Faustus Med bay" She stated, attempting if nothing else then to break through whatever foggy thoughts still clouded his thinking - and hoping it was in fact just the fogginess that often accompanied regaining consciousness and not some more permanent problem
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Post by Taaru Masako on Aug 2, 2010 11:21:01 GMT -5
Reality reasserts itself, and the dream veil is lifted from his mind. He recognizes a familiar presence, along with that familiar face. Even the indignant yelling in the background betrays a familiar voice. He can't make out the words...in fact, he has a hard time understanding (or putting together) thoughts of his own. But that subtlety of these perceptions, filtered through the complicated reality checking system of the human mind, suggests a waking state.
This is enough to quiet him again. He hadn't moved....only the shattered viewing windows and odd bits of glass equipment in his immediate vicinity betraying his shock. To onlookers, he is still a battered and bruised hospital specimen: Immobile & barely conscious.
He wants to ask many questions...the ones someone trapped in a delirium would WANT to ask....but is unable to. Only murmurs escape him.
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