Genesis

[Ariida Rakka]

The wind, the cold, the brooding sea; the Exile deep in his trance.

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[fancybox2]

What had been crystal blue now mired in the grip of a storm. The great cloud had washed in from the far horizon and blotted out the sunlight with grey. Rain fell heavily into the hungry mouth of the ocean whilst soaking the beach and the figure huddled there. The white of the sand fled beneath the weather and soon all that had been bright colour was lost beneath dreariness. He had wandered under the boughs of a tree as was evident by his fast vanishing footprints, sequestering himself beneath the foliage in a bid to hide himself from the torrential downpour. He swiveled whilst looking through the undergrowth before crouching down to sit beside a clump of thick shrubbery as he wove himself into the leaves and branches. Making himself weave like that had been a skill he had mastered quickly here. Finding the tiny caves, the grotto’s into which he could go when the climate of Scarif turned against him, or the fury of some alien beast bore down on him. The boy finally settled himself back on the dirt, pulling his robes tightly about him as he lent into the curve of his hood and watched the waves. Their sound was mesmerizing as it mingled with the harsh wind whipping violently through the trees.


They rolled back and forth as they always did, slaves to the forces that had mastered them. Gravity was a cruel mistress and did not bid that they rest often, if at all. Just as chance had driven one so young away from his peers and into the deep dark of the Outer Rim, the uncharted places, to brood and consider his hate. To wade through vision after vision, harrowing nightmares that pawed at him in an attempt to remind him of what he had tried so hard to forget. But the sea calmed him somehow. Made the rage seem simpler, less tinged with fear. He became just like it, a calm tide that dragged itself slowly across the sands before being whipped into a frenzy by storms such as these. When those alien beasts looked upon him such a storm would blow in. A storm of power that surged through him and hid his fear beneath adrenaline. He did not fear the animals. The hunters. The predators. They were nothing like the inhuman soldiers who haunted his mind. They knew passion, emotion, and responded to it like any true, living thing. In a way, he could converse with them through the currents of the Force and use his own feelings to push and pull on their minds. But only subtly, and only ever for a few moments before the currents of the Dark Side flared and rushed into him. More often than not he would lose the subtle strings of the creatures spirit into the tapestry of the universe. All vibrating too quickly and too frenetically for him to understand. He was not a delicate user of the Force.


Crossing his legs, he bent forwards as he felt the bush press in behind him, shielding him from the wind as it did so. He lent his face on a palm as his brow creased, that same pensive expression returning as he sunk into a trance of memory; brief moments of clarity, snatches of clarity in the ever shifting darkness.

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[The Doctor]

As the waves dragged themselves to shore that they might join their bretheren tickling the sands with their light touches, a lone Arkanian Jellyfish flopped into view from the horizon. It was fast, faster than you would think a Jellyfish could swim, and soon enough, it began to roll and spasm and contort it's way up the sand, coming to rest in the middle of the grey beach. For a few minutes, it lay still, the rain softly tickling it's gelatinous hide with it's little touches here and there and everywhere, but soon enough, it's form began to melt and collapse in on itself. In moments, it was no longer recognizable as anything but a large blob of golden-brown sludge, one that spat out a small plastic wrapping, and that was when another form took shape. Pulsating ripples of biomass thinned and rounded into fingers, sand became skin, the blob became a body. Just as quickly as the abnormally large Jellyfish molted away, it was replaced by the form of a small human woman, her brown locks whipping around at the whims of the wind.

The Doctor stood quickly, having no desire to stay out here in the cold, and gestured toward the wrapping, which promptly uncoiled and released it's contents: a set of thick and comfortable looking robes. They encroached upon her body, wrapping themselves and slipping into what spaces were meant for them, quickly sealing The Doctor in her little bubble of warmth once more. With a soft exhale, she began to look around, her head pvoting left and right as her five senses searched for any sign of life.

Scarif...this planet had been seared into her brain for some time now, ever since she he touched down on Ilum for the first ime since the battle. Every inch of that planet held those memories now, the kind that wouldn't fade for millenia. Every step and every crack in the ice hid a story that unfolded in that battle, secrets that are just waiting to be unlocked by whoever was unlucky enough to step on them. As The Doctor made her way across the surface, she found herself assaulted with vision after vision of a young boy, possessed of a darkness and pain unfitting for someone his age. Whoever he was, he was a deeply wounded soul, and he had burrowed deep into the force out of fear, and hate, and despair.

Now The Doctor was here for...some reason. She wasn't quite sure why she had come here, beckoning some invisible urge that had swallowed her dreams and permeated every thought. All she had was a theory, one that she couldn't help but agree with internally, even if she wouldn't voice it: As bad as she was now, and as twisted and perverse her desires...she was still a healer, and this poor boy needed healing.

She outstretched her hand, reaching out with the Force and brushing aside the trees and the bushes with a hundred hands, searching for the hand her own sought to take. It didn't take long before her thoughts connected with another, and she knew from the first second that she had found her mark. She knelt down and let the emotion of what vague images she could gently pry run through her, letting the Dark Side flow freely into her soul and connect her with this young one's pain.

::It cut a lot of people deep, Ilum...I sense it did the same to you, on a completely different level my boy:: She thought, her mind now interlinking with and speaking into his, as if in gentle embrace with one another. ::Come outside on to the beach, I won't hurt you::

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Again and again, that icy blue making waves in the Force.

[fancybox2]
The response took several moments to wash back through the ripples of the Force as his body stiffened and mind slowly whirred to life. Gears gnashing at one another as that familiar scene began to form in all its horror. A group of maybe three youths barely holding their own against two Jedi. Blades of blue, green, and one burning with a stars golden-yellow. Beautiful hair. Oaken brown struck through with mousier, brighter tones. The blades collide once, twice, three times before her hands fumble about the blade and... a scream. Deafeningly loud as the scene fades away. Then, cresting the hill once again, the group comes into view once more. The same hair, the same silhouette, the same fatal slip. The same scream. Unending. Even as he disentangled himself from the bush and stood, keeping his hood pulled tightly about his face, the vision continued to tumble outwards into the invisible currents that flowed all throughout Scarif and the universe beyond.

He made his way along the tree-line. His gait was swift and decisive, every step made with weight behind it. His head craned low as he watched his feet and considered their movements. Every so often he would look up to gaze at the sea, stopping for a fraction of a second to watch the rain as it offered itself to the salty waves. As he strode, he could still taste the faintest remnants of that salt. It hung even in the air. On the breeze that gust inwards from the great blue. He kept his arms hidden within the sleeves of his robes as he walked, each hand curled around the opposite forearm. Locked tightly about the bones as he managed his composure. It threatened to slip at any moment.

“I’ve no interest in you and I think it best that you have none in me. Go about your business. Doubtless you’ve other reasons to wander these islands. Plans to exploit them for your own gain. Do not exploit me in the same way. You will not find me as easy to control as dirt, sand, forest… or these beasts. Nasty things. Very violent. Savage. Unfriendly toward outsiders.” A kind of coldness flooded in from the depths of his psyche to blanket his thoughts; a wish for isolation and further time to lose himself in the madness he was summoning. Time to build the dream he was creating for himself in the safety of this wilderness. A dream to take shelter in and escape the ceaseless storm of pain. These thoughts of solitude were foremost in his mind and comprised the last of his message as another memory slipped through the poor control he had over his mind. The same hair fallen against a face. Young, pretty, attractive. Smiling underneath sunlight. Arms wrapped around each others shoulders, awkwardly. Not daring anything more adventurous. Just watching each other with curiosity and interest. There was no desire or lust. Just a mutual trust, a mutual value for the other. Understanding. Love. A wish to return to the dream-time in which all were safe and none could hurt.[/fancybox2]

 

[The Doctor]

A stir in the shrubbery to her distant left brought The Doctor's eyes to a darkened figure hidden among a small mountain of loose robe, appearing at least 2 sizes too big for the kid. He moved slowly, deliberately, careful and quiet, like he didn't want to disturb this planet or it's creatures out of some sense of respect, or maybe his way of saying 'I'm sorry for staying here, I'll make as little noise as possible'. Either way, he was the spitting image of the figure she had seen in her visions, the young boy soaked in pain and blood, touched by Ilum and scorched by love lost. His voice was harsh and coarse as he admonished the young Exile for bothering him, believing her to be here for some other, more 'important' reason than to talk to a traumatized young child that just wanted to pain to stop.

"I'm only here for one thing, and he's standing in front of me," She began, pulling her hood down and letting the light wash over her face. By most's standards, she was pretty attractive, but she wasn't trying to attract him, only show a comforting face. "...and exploitation is the last thing on my mind Ariida." She looked directly into his eye, her own eyes opening to the boy, allowing him to see inside. Deep inside, her heart and soul radiated with the same sadness that consumed him, and she too had felt love and lost, if not under the same circumstances. He wouldn't see who, or how, but he would know that she knew his pain, and The Doctor hoped that would be the first wooden panel that built his bridge. "I was on Ilum recently...it showed me something." She continued solemnly, not a trace of a smile present on her usually chipper face.

"I saw anger, excitement, that thrill of battle and the satisfaction of doing what you knew in your heart to be right...I felt the heat of a saber licking against my cheek, the cold mud digging into my pores as the ground claimed me...I felt fear, fear like I had never conceived of before for someone that I held so closely, that they had a part of my soul in their own, and I theirs. Then I...I felt it...I felt the pain and the loss, and I felt that gnawing emptiness begin to fester away in the depths of my soul, something that's be eating at me for a long time, but fresh and new." By now, the tears had begun to stream from her, her recalling the events bringing her own memories to the fore as well as his. "I am so sorry for your loss son...I know how it feels...I wish I could go back to before everything happened too"

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Oh, how that deep pit brimmed with darkness.

[fancybox2]
He slowed his pace without turning to look at her, as she came towards him with that genuinely sorrowful expression. A mask that hid nothing and spoke more than a word ever could. His eyes betrayed him first, shifting slowly towards her as if drawn by an impossible magnetism. A want that could not be named. That want smoldered in the cold depths of his eyes where ice-fire burned blue. Such a darkness it was, an empty void that crept out over his skin, allowing the magnetism to tug his whole body toward the Doctor. His eyes flitted over her face in a series of erratic motions. Lingering on her eyes for a moment, then the tilt of her neck, then the dark hair framing her face, then the shiver that ran across her lips; never finding a moment to rest, never finding refuge from the pain. The void in his eyes deepened as it continued welling up with unending cold. A cold that drew him once more to look out unblinkingly at the sea that called him to give up all the wounds that bled slowly and painfully within him. Her tears only poured salt into those wounds.


“P-please, I don’t want to remember. I would rather the pain be left unsaid than my words hang heavy in the air. They’ll weigh me down. Crush me. I-if I just, let them be…”, he tried his best to retain a straight face whilst his lips quivered repeatedly, “... let them be inside, where I can control them. Hide them away. Cage them.” His arms were slowly raised to either side of his head, fingers balled together, wrists pressed against each temple. He was straining so hard against the darkness that wanted so much to be spoken. Both containing the shadow and digging the pit deeper, deeper, deeper still. To make a home for all that darkness. A pit deep enough to contain something so immense. “So long as I keep turning away from it, always, always keep turning away. N-never, never look back, never remember…”, he stuttered, whispering to himself beneath the sound of the ocean as it lapped at the shore. The shivering got the best of him as his knees gave out. He fell upon them slowly, first the left and then the right, letting the muscles relax as the darkness finally made itself manifest in the tears that poured onto the sand and sought the sea. Wanting only to find something to fill. Something to float within and grow, something in which to become an ocean of pain, roiling with storms of anger and regret.


“S-she was like s-sunlight. A-and now the sun is gone. Now all the stars are gone.” He curled forwards onto his knees as he arched his back, head kept close to the sand now as he hid the sorry sight of his face. His shoulders ached so much under the weight that had been let out into the air even by so few words, an invisible lead that filled the beach and hid within every syllable that dripped from his lips. Each grain of sand now seemed to weigh a thousand times what it had weighed a moment ago, and every one of them now piled atop the boy. As he sank, one might have heard him whispering, “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, so sorry, I-I…” as he trailed off into further incomprehensible moans. Words spoken in all languages, for all languages knew the words for ‘pain’. Those primal things that build empires as swiftly as they fell them. Words more comparable to weapons made for slicing through the soul with edges tempered by the bitter cold chill of loss.
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[The Doctor]

She saw him pause, saw the look in his eye as he turned back. The Doctor had to admit, getting through to him was much easier than she thought it would be given how long he had been been here...but then again, it was the nature of sadness that, if you turned away, it would grow beyond your ability to control and suppress. Chances are, if The Doctor hadn't shown up, he would most likely have broken down on his own eventually. But now, he had someone to hold him, to tell him things were going to be alright, and she intended to be that person. All other agendas aside, this was a boy, a scared and hurt boy that wanted the hurt to stop, and she had to reiterate that to herself each time she looked at him.

He tried to deny his feelings, lock them away again, but try as he might, The Doctor had opened the floodgates, there was no shutting it away again. He tried though, damn hard, his hands came to his head as his body struggled under the weight of the burdens he had lived with for so long, The Doctor hating that she was making them heavier, but they would need to get heavier before they got lighter. She wiped the tears from her face and came over to him, wrapping a gentle arm around him as his legs buckled and he began to fall. His impact would've been more painful that he thought if she hadn't slowed him down, her eyes noting the thick trunk directly beneath his knees that he would've landed directly on.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," She kept on repeating as she took him into her arms, hugging him and letting him vent it all out without anyone to bear witness - no need to stay strong now, "but you can't lock it away son, if you do, it'll only get stronger and overwhelm you without warning." She started to rub his back, trying to give him some warmth in the hurricane of cold around them. "Trust me, I know this...the more you try to forget, the more vivid the memories become, you can't run forever. I wish there were another way, the last thing I want is to hurt you more, but I need you to let it all out...the sun may be gone, but that doesn't mean the stars are too, you just need to bring back the light to see them again."

 

[Ariida Rakka]

The embrace beneath rainfall, washing it all away.

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[fancybox2]

The mirror of her face burned in the pits of his eyes; a mirror of all the pain that festered within him. He saw the tears as they streamed down her face and fell onto the sand. He saw the pain that lay beyond them. The pain that screamed for attention and wanted nothing more than for him to join it in remembering Ilum. The arm around his shoulders felt like a chain of ice that burned slow and well, crushing him beneath the leaden fumes that even now filled the air with the taste of blood. That image of a body strewn upon the muck with a face fit only for an angel, bleeding upon the battlefield. Once more he returned to that place as he watched the lightsaber cleave through the air and cut her down. Again, the shard of light flickering through the air, then a scream, then blood. Light slashing viciously, a scream, blood, a fall. Light, scream, blood, death. So cruel. So cold, so distant as those blind fools failed to see how young and broken she was; how broken they all were. In that failing the whole of his pain was hidden. The Jedi. Those who had become so enamored with order and so disgusted by mortality that they now reviled all emotion, transfiguring them into machines capable of cutting down children. All who were less than them were fit to be expunged from the galaxy to preserve their twisted vision of harmony. The galaxy must be made of nothing but stone, nothing but lawful matter that could not break their rules or test the limits of their power. The Jedi must have power. The Jedi must rule, forever. The Jedi must not be opposed. The Jedi are the Force.

Then he would have no part in the Force. That was why he had fled here, in the hopes that he would never have had to look upon any of it again. Those strings that comprised the galaxies tapestry. The great order that he could not understand and did not see mirrored in the universe or in himself. The Dark side had spoken to him of passion, and he had gone willingly into its embrace only to have it strip his beloved from him. Passion led to death, order led to death, light was sterile and dark was empty. Mercy was upset by cruelty and hate did not bring an end to one’s grievances. No desire, however it may have tried to present itself to him, rewarded him with warmth. Even in this embrace there was just that sterile light that promised another broken bond should he allow it to close around him, trapping him once more.

It was then that the numbness crawled up from the deepest reaches of the pit within him. The severance that claimed him and shuttered off his mind. His quivering stopped as his knees locked together. His arms came down slowly from his head and weaved themselves around this woman’s torso, holding her gently to him as the tears rolled silently down his face. His breathing remained erratic but made little sound. Now, he simply stood in the cold and the rain. Watching the sea as it rolled back and forth across the sand. Observing. An outsider. He listened to her words in this continued silence, letting them echo back and forth inside his head. I can’t run. I am trapped. We are all trapped. The memories catch up with you eventually. It is hopeless. Either submit to them, forget them, or die. B-but I don’t want to forget, I want to m-make it r-right… you can’t make it right. No one can. His reason was sharp. The logical-self chastised his childishness for wishing that it could be free from the torment it had found itself in whilst still clinging to the Force, which echoed all that he hated. Thus, he let it go. Looking upon the image of that woman’s face was too much for him to bear; looking upon it and knowing that no amount of maturity could save you from the it. From, all those memories.​

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[The Doctor]

The Doctor's embrace did more than act as a clumsy attempt for emotional support. As insightful as she was into Ariida's young mind, she could still only steal glimpses of her inner turmoil, despite wishing to feel it all so she might better guide him away from the path she knew he was contemplating. Losing a loved one was hard, doubly so if you weren't one whom thought about more physical needs, as the connection was purely emotional, rooted in your heart and soul alone, without being rooted in your brain, which craved that kind of physical intimacy. The mark this girl had left was indelible, and now The Doctor had to stop it from destroying him. One of her hands came up to his head and she started to run her fingers through his hair, softly stroking and petting it, allowing her to better peer into his mind.

What she saw almost broke her again, so soon after having fully pieced herself back together. His soul was tearing itself at the seams, his mind and heart on opposite sides of a civil war his being could not sustain for long. Logic demanded that this event drag him into despair and that he use it as a shield to protect himself from forming more attachments that could hurt him, whereas his passion demanded that he just weep, and weep, and weep until he starved, overriding all sense of control. Neither of these paths were the answer, instead the way forward lay somewhere in the middle. She delved into his mind again, letting her voice quell his pain briefly so that he may listen to her and understand what he needed to do. :: Listen to me Ariida...I know what it is you want to do, what is tearing you apart, and I'm here to tell you that those paths will only pull you further into death's door. If you forsake emotion, you become no better than the Jedi, and you would stop living, but if you feel this too much and let her departure from this plane overwhelm you? This planet will become your tomb. I don't expect you to move hear and now, this is something that takes a long time to recover from, and it will be hard, so hard...but for now, I need you to do something for me.::

She started to prod memories of a happier time into his mind, looking to keep the tragedy in the back of his mind so that he can try to calm himself a little. "Focus on the good times..." She began, prodding deep, but soft, "...everything you did with her, all the walks and the sunlit days, every good thing you have ever done with her...those days can't come back, I wish they could...but we need to cherish them for what they were, we need to cling to them and not to the memory they would wish we forget, otherwise we'll be stuck in the past and unable to move on...tell me a memory, go on"

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Finally, he let it fade away into the blur of yesterday.

​

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[fancybox2]
Sunlight and grass, alien trees far away in the distance. A forest hugging the curve of the rolling hills. Over one shoulder lay the tall stone fortifications of ancient design that betrayed the presence of the Jedi. She was sitting between the two, holding his hands in her lap as they sat crossed legged in the dirt and enjoyed the summer breeze. The sun was setting beside them, casting her face in shadow. One eye shone with light whilst the other hid seductively in the shadow and admired her young friend, her lover. He could feel the warmth of their hands and the rapturous pull of the wind, the way it moved through their hair and tickled his skin. All the warmth of their love, all the energy of the breeze, every emotion, every vision swirling around the two of them. Their union at the center of everything that had ever happened to him and would ever happen to him.Willingly, he let her hand go, relinquishing the preconception that had been controlling his every movement. The idea that that moment would forever define him as one marked by loss and controlled by his sorrow.

He saw her smiling lovingly at him as she always did, sweet like honey. As he stood the sunlight vanished and he was standing on glass that displayed the ocean below the two of them. The ocean rolling back and forth. Moving not out of passion but simply because it must. That was the nature of the sea, to move when all else stood still and to hungrily await the return of the land to its custody. Her face was glass-like now as the colours faded and only the impression of her image remained. A shell that radiated a warmth encapsulated in golden light that shone from her heart and made all the curves of her features glimmer with hope. She was a life that he could no longer have. A possibility that had been snuffed out by chance. She had been taken from him. By whom and for what he realized that it had never really mattered. The Jedi were a force that he could not control, a force whose existence determined that it would take passion from others. Why? It mattered not. Their impetus was to take, and that was that. His love had been taken from him, and that was that. The sadness would not define him. The anger would not define him. His love for her would not define him. Nothing and no one would define him. The cold was beginning to evaporate from within him as heat rolled in from beyond and forced the pain to flow outward into the ocean it had longed to be united with.

As the pain left him he turned to simpler things. The blue of the sea. The green of the canopy overhead. The cold of the rain as it fell on his flesh. The feeling of his knees as they shook beneath him. The way his untrained breath strained against the breeze. Her embrace. All of his memories slowly began to fade away beneath the vivid sensations of the present. Finally, he stepped back into the moment and left the past behind, at least for now. He would not remember anymore for he had realized how little it truly mattered. His life would be determined by what he did with what he could control, not what he longed for but could do nothing to achieve.

“What’s your name?”
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[The Doctor]

With each word, mental or physical, that she uttered, she could feel the lad listening, taking it into him and trying to wake up. Death was a traumatic thing, especially for a child, scarred them for life, and it had an unfortunate way of either making one feel everything in life, heightening their perception to an absurd degree, or doing the opposite. They become dead inside, their souls retreat in to escape the pain and their minds shut down, going on autopilot. In essence, a single death can cause another to die if it overwhelms them, but that death just occurs while still satisfying the survival instinct. She could feel it inside Ariida, that living death that only locked you into an eternal torture that true death could free you from. However, there was always another way, and it was always possible to free yourself from this prison, sometimes by yourself, and sometimes, with the help of another.

The Doctor didn't do much to help him, not really, she just showed u and gave him the right push that he needed, and she could tell that it was working. Now she could feel that little spark of happiness igniting in his soul, dragging itself out of the swamp of misery and emotional purgatory it had resided in since that moment, trying to bring itself back into the fore and live again. She could hear the rustling of leaves, a few birds singing to one another in harmonious love for one another, she could feel the soft grass beneath her feet, toes digging into the dirt and relishing in the cold that washed away the gentle heat combing across their bodies. This was only the first step toward recovery for him, eventually his nightmares and bad memories would return, but for now, he would be able to try and come to terms with everything that had happened, long enough for her to get him off this planet anyway.
"I'm Aleera, though most people call me The Doctor" She said, beaming wildly at him as she offered a hand to him.

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Thus his pain became the pain of the Force, and the Force became his strength.

[fancybox2]
“Doctor”, he began unlacing himself from Aleera with a final squeeze of thanks, stepping back before wiping at his face to dust away what tears remained, “I see.” The boy failed to register the hand that was offered to him, partially because of how mesmerizing the sea was proving, and partially because the warmth of human contact would have broken the trance he was slowly weaving. Once more he was drawn by that impossible magnetism, peering out at the sea as he sank deeper and deeper into the numbness. Letting the ache subside as the nothingness filled him with a strong current that swept away the remnants of regret he had been harbouring in his heart. That aching pool of guilt that had been the root of all his madness was slowly cleansed by the coming tide. Thoughts of his personal failings were slowly reconciled as he tried to convince himself that he had done all he could; that there was nothing more he could have said or done to save her. Pain still hid in other levels of his mind, other cracks in the walls, but they would be the problems of another day. His hate for the Jedi was rooted in other memories he had buried long ago. Other sparks of the Dark sides ice-fire that hid beneath the ash of his most recent inferno.

“You were a healer and yet the order… cast you out? I cannot see a doctor leaving the Order to join the Exiles,” he explained, noticing the presence of the Dark side swimming about her. “The Dark side does not offer mercy, and yet you do. You have not ‘fallen’ to it like others have.” He threw an appraising glance over her, inspecting her appearance. The demeanour she carried of a loving mother, of a friend, rather than a domineering acolyte of the Dark side.

“What, are you?”
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[The Doctor]

She let her smile grow a little as he simply referred to her by title instead of name. Aleera Dusfraine was killed by the Jedi a while ago now, she was The Doctor, plain and simple. Not that she swore off the memories, no no, memories made us who we were, it'd be a fool that did that. In truth, her memories with the Jedi were some of her fondest times, it was simpler days where she just shot the shit with her friends and patched people up. She would talk with Master Wyck for days about how beautiful Ossus was, and how she hoped to one day run the library, not just because she liked books, but because it would give her time to tinker and work on more projects to help her brothers and sisters in arms. Alas, she would only be a healer, a talented healer, but just a healer nonetheless, and most of her days were spent in tents or on the battlefield, stitching Jedi back together and tossing half baked masses of flesh int kolto tanks, hoping that's become something resembling a person again. Now her eyes were open, she saw the truth of how the Jedi had lost their way, but she was still hopeful that she could show it to them and bring about a stronger galaxy for it.

Her hand wasn't taken, evidently Ariida was more interested in observed the waves as they crashed against the sand, coating them in a layer of grey that hid the golden brown grains...not unlike Ariida himself. "I love the water, I sometimes feel like I'm looking at a reflection of myself...it can be peaceful, and beautiful, and a joy to traverse and explore, but that can lull the unprepared into a false sense of security. Take care to not be careless, lest she turn violent, 50 foot waves crashing against skin and bone with such unbridled force, assuming the cold and dark don't kill you first, maelstroms swallowing you and your ship whole to never be seen again...the sea is a very...particular Mistress, some might even say impulsive." It was true for most planets, the sea served out warnings very day, showing how beautiful and terrible something could really be. It was always good to seek out the things in life that make you gasp and cheer in awe, but you should always be careful not to hurt yourself whilst searching.

Now Ariida was starting to think a little more about The Doctor. He was probably the first to bring up the paradox of a healer having fallen to the Dark Side, the first comprehend how strange she was. At the very least, he had the good sense to question her before letting her take him anywhere, which was good, showed he had common sense. She smirked a little at his question, specifically the first word, not who...what. It was true, her demeanor and attitude, as well as her proclivity to helping others often went against what she identified as in the Force, but the simple fact was that the Dark Side drew on emotion, and it was beholden to no one. It was accessed through domination, through the desire to take what you believe is owed, and the willingness to call on anger and fear and passion and lusts to bend it to your will.

The problem was that so many just relied on their anger and their fear and their pain, negativity literally drove them in life, and it was all too easy to let those things consume you, that wasn't what she felt the truth of the dark side was. The Dark Side was a tool to be used, to be harnessed to put toward the individual's purpose, but all emotions were needed to have full control over it, instead of letting it control you. The Doctor was the Dark Side, in it's full form, anger, fear, sadness, happiness, lust, pride, ambition, love, all of it was inside her, and she intended to make use of it to fufill her purpose...to Unify...

"I am...something more"

 

[Ariida Rakka]

A shattered mind flickers like living glass.

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Another, more recent memory. A calm day. Overcast. The sun is just visible through a break in the cloud cover which spills golden rays over the ocean in a dazzling display of blinding light. With so much light reflected upon the water it is difficult to retain focus on the horizon without one’s eyes begging to be closed. He tries to shield his eyes behind his sleeve to no avail. He approaches the sea, staring down at his reflection in the shallows where the ripples are few and the waters calm. There is a feeling of emptiness. The mind is consumed in the moment. It thinks of nothing but the splendour of the reflection before it and the fascinating curves of the figures visage. There is nothing beyond this moment. Something surfaces in the depths, the water beckoning to that something enticingly. It takes hold. A desire to feel the cool currents upon the skin, to wash away the sweat left by heat and toil. There is no thought given as to the clothes. He strides forth into the waters with confidence emboldened by the clarity of the moment. The heat is comforting if stifling, the water cool. Refreshing. The desire to enjoy that coolness is all that matters now. What danger could such a calm ocean prove to a child?

The hidden currents are strong. They catch his ankles and soon he is fighting for breath beneath the blue that has now become fractured by a thousand ripples and tufts of white foam. His senses return as he breaks the surface once more, now treading water some way out to sea. He must have wandered further than he realized, caught in that moment of captivation. The next thoughts are broken, shattered, coming from a variety of places within him; ‘She is always violent. She does not tempt. She is temptation. Her peace is subversion, a lie. The beauty is hate, make no mistake. She is a beast.’ A half formed refutation, but not one formed consciously. Something within him disagreed not out of choice but out of being. Something that may have been conceived as beyond him or above him. A conviction. A darkness. The thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he rose from his stupor, called back to reality by his companions voice.

“They all said that. Three of them were killed; by younglings. Their words were meaningless in the end. Their action was inadequate. Their preparation, lacking. Their skill, disgustingly poor. Why has this superior, this Doctor, come all the way out here?” He inspected her again, letting his brow furrow. “I will not believe that you have come here only for me, if you are superior. There is nothing superior in mercy.”
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[The Doctor]

The boy was certainly the contemplative type, or at least, at first glance. Every word she uttered inspired a thought, some kind of mental anecdote that consumed the boy's thoughts, memories flowing as easily through him as water through a trench. It was actually quite interesting, perhaps even exciting how deep his thoughts could go, at the very least he had a good vocabulary, so that spoke to a brain with a great capacity for thought. Still, as all children would, it needed molding, honed into a better weapon as well as tool. She had no desire to see his inquisitive and ponderous mind gone, but she knew full well that it would be his undoing if he lost focus at a critical moment. She wondered if he was always like this, doubtful, he probably wouldn't have been able to feel a Jedi if he was, more than likely he'd get caught up contemplating the ground and the ice and the true nature of kyber crystals.

He obviously wasn't buying the whole 'I am more' speech, but she wasn't that surprised. She didn't look like much, but she was most definitely not as cute and cuddly as she appeared to be..ok, she was, but she was capable of kicking a lot of ass too, in all her finery. "There is wisdom in mercy, properly applied. Those whom understand life, and how precious it is, are the only ones who can truly appreciate it, the chance to keep on living when it looked like there was none. A man is offered mercy, he should take it, life it fleeting, and you should spend it wisely and well...I am offering you mercy now Ariida"

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Sudden wariness, as his senses return to him.

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“Your nonchalant use of my name betrays your disregard for the sanctity of my mind. I am nothing more to you than a vessel. My life is only precious in what worth it holds as a tool for you to use. Spare me this false guise. You are no healer come to tend the weeping wounds of the weak. That is a mask for a Jedi. You are no Jedi, pretender to the title of ‘Doctor’. Speak plainly and tell me; what designs have you for your tool? Honour me with honesty and I may listen.” The breeze picked up as he spoke, ruffling his hair as the rain began to pour harder, now sweeping in from the sea at an almost horizontal angle. The wind whipped ferociously across the beach, filling the air with clouds of golden yellow that only succeeded in muddying the light. No sign betrayed the thinning of the cloud cover or any coming respite from the storm. Thunder rolled through the air after a sudden flash. A solitary bolt that split the horizon. An omen of change. The boy watched it with his expressionless stare before turning to a nearby tree. He took several measured steps before he came upon it and seated himself next to it, leaning his back against it whilst pulling his head low over his eyes. Low enough that they were now hidden from sight.

Now that he was relaxed, he allowed himself to return to his usual, semi-meditative state. Hearing the sound without being the sound. Speaking without being the words. Feeling without being the essence of that feeling. Separating himself from the reality of his body and inspecting it as one might a drawing being sketched before one's eyes. Seeing the pencil as it darts across the paper and marvelling at the craftsmanship of the image; seeing the sensations that travel across the skin, play at the ears, echo inside the mind, and knowing them all to be from a distant place. It was how he had come to see his emotions as tools. Fuels. Energies for completing tasks and building masks, either to manipulate the world, or other people.

“Do not mistake my tears for obedience. You are a manipulator skilled in the talent of listening to the Force. Such tender plucking at the strings of my heart was well executed. A subtle echo you birthed in me. An echo which you guided carefully into coalescing at its intended point, breaking my mask of glass. Such a vibration was too much for me, and I was undone. But I am a tenacious thing, and my eyes see the intent of your actions. A repeat performance will not be so fruitful now that the origin of your magicians tricks has been laid bare, manipulator. My hands are not drawn to clasp the mercy you offer them, for they’ve no desire to hold the fabrication of an already horrid poison.”
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[The Doctor]

Ok, not only was the kid contemplative, he also sounded like he had swallowed a Thesaurus with the sheer number of words that he was all too happy to use, but he had a point. Flowery words and dramatic speeches wouldn't do anything for The Doctor right now, she wasn't really the type unless she was acting, and she wasn't acting right now. She needed this kid and wanted to help him, and she was trying to use manipulation to do it, which had next to no chance of working. She exhaled heavily, rubbing her temples and gazing at the boy now casually tossing aside her namesake and intentions.

"Fine, you're a kid that's hurting, and evil though I may be, I don't like seeing kids hurting. I want to take you away from here and train you in the way of the Dark Side, and hopefully, with a little effort, help you find some closure along the way" She said bluntly, staring hard into his eyes. There was no lie in them, and she trusted he could see that.

 

[Ariida Rakka]

Feeling it all flutter and fall, crumbling down.

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For a long time he sat there in silence. Hands clasped about his knees, hood pulled low, head still against the tree behind him. The breeze caused his skin to tingle as it blew in off the crisp, salty currents. Each cheek became tender and cold. A similar chill wormed its way into the rest of his exposed skin - across the backs of his hands, across his shins. It seemed almost as if he were travelling. He felt the movement in the breeze as it wafted all about him, and as the rain streamed down from above. A whip of lightning struck the sky in two. Far out to sea, the burning white hung in the air. A great slash in the world itself. Divine. Furious. Powerful. Raging with all the true power of the Force that is born out of doing what must be done. Behind all this, there sat a quiet watcher. An inspector. In a way, he was Ariida, and in another way, he was simply the thing that had been born into this vessel and had carefully constructed the mask that was Ariida. It was only when he could meditate like this that Ariida noticed its existence. The core of his being that wasn’t his body, or his mind; one might call it a spirit. A soul. The part of himself that could never be destroyed, warped or manipulated. It stood impassively at the centre of his world and fed him the sensations of life.

“Where is it that you want to travel? What worlds have you yet to set foot upon that you would like to? I would like to see a city. A world of cities. I would like to be to stand in a place so clustered with life that I choke on it. I want to hear a thousand voices singing their songs, going about their business. I would like to stand somewhere that buries the silence. That is where I would like to go,” he states, talking just loud enough to be heard over the sea’s roar. Another pause. Adjusting his hands, he stares into the back of his hood as it sits over his eyes. He felt the way air collected and warmed beneath it. He liked the way it sheltered him from the storm. He liked the way that she spoke to him without hate, fear, love, want.

“Why? Why would you take me to see these things? Why must I be happy? Why must children be happy? I do not understand what it is that you say. You manipulate me, then you are plain with me. And for that I am thankful, for I have spent too many years listening to the Jedi cloak their hatred for me in false emotions. In mercy, and charity, and empathy. So cold. All their words were so cold. Ilum was made worse for their chill souls. You could feel it in the Force. Their disconnection from it all. They would not weep, they would not feel the loss of so many souls for fear of letting themselves live. What is the point of going on with it all, if only to deprive yourself of your reason for being? Living without life. Painting without colouring. They are so strange. They confuse me. It is like a mishaped part in my mind. A gear that refuses to turn. I was Jedi for so long, and then I was angry with myself for being Jedi, and angry at the Jedi for letting themselves be Jedi. And then there was the Dark side, and I was with the Dark side, and the Dark side was with me. Then there was love, and the love was sweet. Then there was not love, and the loss was bitter. And then on these shores I remained in that bitterness and let the waves take my sorrows from me into the deep. Then, there was…”, he faltered, halting. His pale lips sat still beneath his hood, quivering slightly, then opening as he breathed the cold air. Felt it in his lungs.

“I’m sorry. It’s like watching grey walls falling down, all around me. Every brick a part of myself. Things being lost, things being false, things being pointless. All that I am, all of it breaking down. Crumbling down. Tumbling away from me. I’m angry with you, then I’m terribly sad, then we’re together, then I remember, then, and then… a continuous, meaningless stream of events. An unfeeling Force watching it all. The pointless mechanism churning at the heart of the universe, an eye watching everything with total impassivity. Caring for nothing, loving none. All of it. Just a stage on which we play out this terribly strange show. Closure. I shall never have it. Not the why of it all. But thank you for trying to seek it with me. Thank you for caring enough, to want to show it to me. Caring like that is the only warmth in it all. The only thing that keeps the cold out, the meaningless out in the cold nothing where it belongs.”
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[The Doctor]

The Doctor could see that the two would probably be sitting here for a while, so she figured it would suit her best to get comfortable. She kicked her legs out from under herself and pulled back, settling her back against a hard tree that she molded around slightly, just to make it a bit more bearable. She didn't do much, just sat there as he went into small periods of silence that lasted a few moments a piece. She wasn't going to invade his mind anymore, that purpose had been fulfilled, now he was more open to talking, so she could only guess at what he was thinking about. At a guess, he was probably remembering, she could feel the hurt in him, even without looking, it radiated off him like radiation, infecting everything around him, even the plants and trees seemed dull and lifeless around this kid, whilst all the things in the distance were much more inviting.

When he finally broke the silence, she actually flinched a little, her head snapping out of her own little train of thought and whipping back to her potential apprentice. He spoke of towering cities bursting with people, patrons, and parasites, somewhere he could go that would distract him from the pain more than anything else. She knew it was a tempting proposition, when she had first been exiled she fled to a remote world, somewhere quiet where she could be with her thoughts. It was nice, the peacefulness of it all, the tranquility...though, ultimately, that just made it worse, the peace was so jedi that should couldn't help but drown in sorrow. "I think...I would very much like to visit remote worlds. There's something to be said about the peace and solitude, assuming that's not your life already," She said, gesturing all around them, "I've been to so many cities, they just blend together, but if you want me to, I will take you."

Then came the inevitable questions, why? It was always why. He didn't even give her the chance to answer as his question slowly but surely turned into a rage and confusion filled tirade against the Jedi and their followers. He lamented all of his wasted life and how confusing the feelings he had were, how confusing the Jedi were, she had seen it all before. "It's fine, really, I get it, or I kind of get it anyway...the manipulation in the beginning was just to get you a little more open, can you honestly say you would be talking to me now if you were still filled with that same amount of grief as when I first approached?" She paused a moment and took a steadying breath, she needed to think carefully on this next response. "As for the Jedi...I know it's confusing, why would the Jedi give up all that makes life worth living to become emotionless robots? The answer lies in ideals. The Jedi believe that they are there to shepard the lambs in the galaxy, and that in order to do so, they need to be strong. The Light is focused with peace, serenity, calm, the Jedi sacrificed everything they fell and know because they believed in the ideals of their ilk enough to let it encompass their lives. Ideals themselves are powerful things, they can compel men to do things that they wouldn't have dreamed of in a thousand years, give up their own fundamental values and thoughts for them. You would jump off a cliff, corrupt your family, slaughter thousands, give up your very soul...all if you believed in that ideal enough, that's what the Jedi are: believers of the highest, or lowest, order."