Let's See How Deep the Bullet Lies

[Bantha]

by norbface
DSC Daedalus, District 5
Club Paradise, 20:00​

Club Paradise, the raunchy and defiled bar of District 5, was cramped and bustling on the first two levels. Music filled the smoky interior, mixed with muffled shouting from the gambling floor below. Muirgheal had taken her usual spot at the bar after getting off guard duty. She planned to get thoroughly wasted tonight, having the next few days off.

“What will it be tonight, darling?” asked the orange Twi’lek bartender, lekku twitching in anticipation.

“Reactor Core. And a shot of Kri’gee. They make good poison, but I ain’t no Mando. All bucket no brains.”

“Wouldn’t have thought you as one. Not that any would be showing their faces, even here.”

No place is ever safe from the Imperium’s gaze. Not for them, not for me. She quickly knocked back the shot, trying to focus on the burning in her throat and not the harsh realities of things.

With a shaking hand, she pulled a small vial containing orange liquid from her pocket, followed by a new syringe and needle. She filled it, then pushed back her right sleeve, her organic arm. There was a tiny scar there, from the hundreds of times a needle had pierced the pale flesh. Into the spot the metal plunged again, delivering another dose of her addictive vice. She never liked taking it orally, whether straight or adding the ixetal cilona to alcohol. Smoking took too much time. Intravenous was quick, clean, and discreet. And at least the bartender was willing to turn a blind eye.

Not that it made her addiction any better. Her life was still tied to the horrible drug and her dealer for as long as her demon resided inside her. Death sticks were the only thing to cut herself off his influence and the Force. In the past months her body needed larger doses to have the same numbing effect, quieting the pings of her danger sense to dull whispers, then nothing.Like losing an arm and falling asleep at the same time, she thought. The bright colors and euphoria stopped returning a long time ago.

Maybe if she hadn’t waited, help would still be within reach. But she had her pride and common sense. If she could deal with it herself, she would, and there was no one powerful enough to exorcise a Darth spirit besides. Sure, the Sith could help--a lightsaber in the chest was a quick fix. The Jedi… that was almost worse. They wouldn’t touch her with the end of a ten-meter pole if they had to. Haughty religious lectures wouldn't change her situation any, either.

Not that they would want to hear that.

She almost laughed. Imagine, a Jedi getting a dose of reality for once. At least the Sith were honest, “We’re self-serving mother kriffers and you’re my slave. We’re not sorry!”

 

[Raydo]

Reland Gil had never been to the notorious star bases owned by the Galactic Trade Coalition. Each of them had become infamous for harboring individuals more criminal in nature. This is what actually had drawn him to the Daedalus today. He had been searching for a group who had been hunting force sensitives and either selling them as slaves, or turning them over to the Imperium for a price. The Jedi Master had already stumbled upon one Padawan who had been caught up by this group.

He could have easily sent others in the Order to investigate this further, in fact, he probably should have sent others. The list of responsibilities that Reland grew longer by the day. This list had doubled in size just in the short amount of time since he had joined the Jedi Council. If he was honest with himself, he missed being out missions sometimes. So much of Reland's task had become administrative or educational in nature. Reland loved working with those in the Jedi Fleet and his time he got to spend training with younger Jedi, but there was just something exciting by chasing leads out in the Galaxy.

So Reland had left early one morning before anyone who wasn't working the night shift aboard The Galactic Evolution would be awake. He had found his assistant Val walking the hallways with her face in a datapad. This didn't surprise him, he didn't think she ever slept. He explained what he was doing and where/how he could be reached and quickly boarded his ship and made his way to the Daedalus.

Reland changed in the moments before he docked out of his Jedi clothes and into a pair of gray pants, white shirt, and gray vest. He was going for a wealthier looking merchant or trader. He chose the smaller of his lightsabers so he would conceal it underneath the vest. It wasn't the blade he was most familiar with, but if it got to the point where he needed to use his lightsaber, he imagined he would have much larger worries.

He decided to start his search in district five. He was aware that it may take sometime to find any leads whatsoever, but he had to start somewhere. He found himself entering an establishment by the name of Club Paradise. Reland never liked crowded places, and these established always seemed to be the most crowded. He decided he would get a drink and ponder his next move, and perhaps stumble upon a lead.

He walked up the crowded bar and waited until he caught the attention of the Twi’lek bartender. She smiled before asking "And what will it be." she asked. Reland thought for a brief second. "Tevraki whiskey" he said giving the female bartender a grin. She returned the smile with a grin and wink before pouring the liquid into a small glass and placed it in front of him. He pulled a chair and sat and took a sip of his drink.

 

[Ivaris]

Sorry. I forget that we have these now. I need to get used to using them.

Muirgheal looked over to her left where the man had sat down, quickly assessing his appearance. Plain but clean clothing, quiet manner, perfectly "normal" drink, and lack of banter with the bartender that was common with regulars. It was a picture in direct contrast to many of the spacers or other District 5 denizens that flocked the cantina, including herself. Her armored vest was certainly an indication to that. Without a strict weapons policy (no existing policy, she was almost certain), a good two-thirds of patrons carried some type of weapon visibly on their belts. She did as well, with a blaster on one hip and a knife on the other.

Maybe he was a trader. An honest one, or he wanted to seem that way.

Either would be interesting, if only for the change. Both kinds normally stayed in Karrde's Tavern, a cantina of less dubious legality, less drugs, and devoid of dancing technicolor babes entirely.

Behind them at a round table was a quite drunk Jeb, the resident smuggler who moonlighted as a storyteller. His ruffled cyan shirt matched the flamboyant gestures of his hands, both creating quite a sight for the audience slowly gathering. "--And then I told him, 'Yeah, and I lost your slambucket of a ship in a sabac match, too!' Holy Force, was he mad! Then I let 'im know it was all a joke..."

Muirgheal turned back to the quiet man on her left. Jeb has a way with stories, eh?" Pausing, she took a drink, feeling the burning liquid at the back of her throat. "So what brings you here? I don't think I've seen you before."

Regardless of how he replied, she'd mutter, "Jeb, you karking bastard," and get up to find another place to sit. The bar and surrounding tables were quickly filling up as people were attacked to a bawdy, drunken rendition of Jeb's argument with his latest one-night stand the morning after. Too loud to hear much above a near shout, which Muirgheal wasn't yet wasted enough to appreciate. This happened almost every Centaxday.

Motioning with her hand, she picked up her drink and pushed her way to the other side of the first floor, where an empty table in the corner rested. She plopped herself down in the chair with her back to the wall, allowing a near-perfect view of the turbolift to the second floor and the live Twi'lek dancers in their metal bikinis. It was also not too far away from a window in the unlikely event things went south. While there was no sign the Imperium was actively pursuing her, she was not stupid enough to let her guard down yet.

"This happens from time to time, you understand? It's just what he does," she said rather apathetically, shrugging nonetheless.

 

[Raydo]

Before he could answer her question, a commotion broke out behind the pair. A crowd grew as someone began telling an outrageous story. The area was filled with laughter and yelling. The woman tilted her head towards a less populated area of the bar before pushing away from the counter.

As the woman turned away to look for a table, Reland ordered another drink for himself and one of whatever she was drinking. The bartender quickly handed the man the requested drinks. Reland nodded and smiled in appreciation before turning to follow the woman. She had said nothing to indicate she knew anything about what he was looking for, but she seemed to know the place well enough. Besides, he had a...feeling about this woman. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he had nothing else so decided it was as good a place as any to start.

He sat down opposite to her, his back facing the crowd on the other side of the bar. It was still loud, as any bar would be, but it was quiet enough to have a conversation with relative ease. He placed the drinks down on the table and slid the drink towards the woman.

"Every place has a Jeb." he said with a chuckle. "And to answer your question, I am here looking for new contacts." he said taking gulp for his drink. The liquid burned his throat slightly, and gave him a feeling of warmth in his stomach. He wasn't too much of a drinker, but had spent many years fighting off poisons of different kind. That same skill let him keep his head longer than most when dealing with alcohol. He leaned back in his chair before asking "And what about you? You seem to be familiar with this place."

 

[Ivaris]

"Contacts? Good luck. Most here, myself included, are primarily concerned with getting wasted and finding someone to share a bed with for a night. If you're looking for trade, I heard Karrde's Tavern is the best. It has a stricter weapons policy, and it's less..." her voice trailed off, clearly fishing for the right descriptor.

"But back to your questions. I come here almost every night I don't have work, for a drink and perhaps a few rounds of sabacc. If I'm lucky, good conversation too." She sighed and took a sip from her glass. Behind the small talk, she was fiercely guarded. If he had half an ounce of perception, he could easily tell.

She fell silent for a moment, seemingly spacing out. It felt very odd to carry on so much of a conversation. There was no activity to focus on, no witty banter or wild drunken stories to narrate. And even being an "extrovert," she had so little to say because her sabers did the talking for her. Since being a fugitive, there was even less: Nothing, nothing about her old past, or her expertly-crafted new one which was a lie in the end.

Her eyes refocused and studied the man intently. If she had the Force, her sense would be trying to read his aura and surface thoughts like an open book she wasn't meant to see. "What is your name? Mine's Muirgheal."

Whatever he said probably was fake, just like hers. At least she was honest in admitting her activities. Looking for contacts, yeah right.' That was about as generic one could get without saying anything at all. Not like she looked down on the man for doing so. She wasn't so guileless herself and had a planet's worth of sins to atone for. But it was likely they would never be because they couldn't change her life or bring Satsuki back from the dead.

A glimmer of sadness crossed her features, (and likely her aura if she had anything left before the death sticks kicked in) for a moment before clearing back to her impassive stare. It was thoughts like these that drove Muirgheal to spice and alcohol. So drink she did. Thankfully both were plentiful and cheap. She knocked the rest of her Reactor Core down and waved over the nearest waitress.

"Kri'gee, please."

 

[Raydo]

The man chuckled at her first statement. "Both seem noble enough causes to me." he said raising his drink slightly before throwing the rest back. "But, thank you. I will have to check out that establishment next." he added. He could tell she was not used to seemingly normal conversation. He got the impression from her that she was ready to bolt at any moment. An overly tense body only being held back by the use of alcohol and spice if he judged correctly by her slightly glazed over eyes.

He looked at her for a moment after she asked him his name. He caught the brief shadow of sadness before she tucked it away underneath the surface. He instinctively reached out and touched her mind. He picked up on her sadness, but there was something much more prevalent underneath, exhaustion. "Reland" he responded truthfully as the waitress brought both of them another round.

He could tell she held some type of connection to the Force, perhaps not currently due to her drug use, but it was there. He probably should press this woman any further. She would most likely run if he did. The smart thing would be to take her advice and be off in a different directions. There was certainly no business to be had here. That's when he felt the all too familiar tug of the Force pulling him to stay. He didn't know what it was, but Reland believed the Force had brought them together.

He leaned forward looking like he was going to say something serious and then cracked a smile. "No Work? Cant decide if I am jealous or feel sorry for you. This is just about the closest thing I have had to a social encounter in quite some time. The price of good business I suppose." he said taking a drink before before continuing "So when you aren't here, tolerating lost travelers, what do you do. Surely someone like you has higher ambitions that to listen to listen to this...Jeb was it?" he asked throwing his head back in a point manner towards the drunk story teller, and as if on cue, a burst of loud laughter filled the bar as he apparently ended a particularly popular tale.

 

[Ivaris]

Her body stiffened. The intrusion came without any prelude or warning, catching her off guard. It was like an icy, dead finger poking the back of her neck or between her eyes, violating her personal space in the worst way possible.

'He's a force user!'

Giving him a mean glare, Muirgheal would let him know without saying anything that she knew what he was up to. She lifted the frosted glass to her lips, setting it down with a clink when she was done.

She wasn't about to bolt out of her chair and run away, making a scene that would only worsen the situation. But knowing he could use power against her made the situation suddenly more dangerous. If he were a Sith, it would be bad news for her; she'd heard stories about how the re-recruitment missions always went. More often than not, if the victim refused they would be killed. Today wasn't her day to die, she would make sure, but it would still be nice not to run into that situation if possible.

“Reeland,” she nodded. “Well, I suppose it's nice to know somebody's interested, no? I don't talk to people all the time, nor do I always listen to Jeb's repertoire of like, five different stories that never get any better. Like I said, a lot of the time I play sabacc, dejarik, or watch swoop races on the holo-vids.” Muirgheal knew she was trying to avoid truthfully answering his question.

“But honestly, why do you even care? Last time I checked I wasn't a good trade contact. Neither is anyone on this level of the club. Kingpins are in the VIP section, third floor.” Taking another drink, she continued. “I just really don't have ambitions. Not everyone aims to be the CEO of a company. Sometimes getting by is enough. Most of the time, it's all I can do.”

She would sit still. For now. However he answered would determined if she would stay, for it would give her insight into what he might likely be. A Sith would try and recruit her. A Jedi? She wasn't sure. Probably would go into how she shouldn't stay in this cesspit of a life and try and “redeem” herself. So she hoped he was just a bored traveler with a strange fascination for other patron's affairs.

@Raydo

 

[Raydo]

He pulled back his mind from hers and the first sign of resistance. The fact that she could sense that even through her wall of substance abuse spoke to her connection to the Force. He was somewhat surprised when she began speaking again, almost ignoring the earlier actions as if they didn't happen.

"I never said I was only looking for trade contacts. I said I was looking for contacts, and the most interesting people can often be found in establishments such as these." he said taking a sip of his drink.

"And I am not quite sure I believe you about not having ambition. I have a way with people. Call it good intuition, but you don't seem like a person who would be okay with just getting by, and there are only a few type of people who both have ambitions and frequent establishments such as these: Those who are running from something and those trying to swindle." he said picking up his glass again while a smile grew on his. "..which are you?"

 

[Ivaris]

A single eyebrow lifted and her mouth twisted into a sardonic half-smirk. “I do apologize. One could only make their best guess," Muirgheal said, the last of her snarky attitude expressing itself as she was quickly tiring of banter that went nowhere. She was sure they both knew the vast majority of patrons meant “trade” or something else work-related when they said contact.

No, he’s not a Sith. She couldn’t explain it so much as just know, as most just know if they can touch the Force consciously. It was a judgement she took on unshakable faith, a confidence born from her life spent among those in the Order. She knew what the Sith acted like, what they believed in, and how many chose take the dark side as their intangible spouse. So unless he was an undercover Ubiquorate agent (highly unlikely given Eris’ betrayal), he was not. The Sith were not one homogeneous kind, yet they shared enough similarities she could get away with sweeping generalization.

“Neither. I drift. No sense in running, nothing was ever chasing me.”

Maybe she did try to get away at one point, in the most literal sense as she first left Imperial space. But now she has begrudgingly accepted her fate for the time being because there was no easy way out and her pride (and fear!) prohibited her from seeking out the Jedi.

“Everything was just… smashed. The things I thought I knew, the beliefs, the way of life, and the people, all had to be thrown away. Consequently I do not have an easy path forward,” she continued. “I hate being stuck in a perpetual limbo, not knowing how to decide what to believe and what to align with.”

Muirgheal took another drink, then placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. Her features became very drawn and exhausted, as if a weight was continually pressing down on her mind.

“I know what I need to do. But I can’t—won’t!—ever. There are too many reasons why not to.”

As she was talking, she was sure of two things. One, her tough facade was cracking. And secondly, if this man was not a Sith, and he was still a Force user, then he was…

’Jidai…’ she mouthed, eyes narrowing as she searched his face for a reaction.

@Raydo

 

[Raydo]

Reland didn't need the Force to sense the woman's weary interior. Underneath her cold exterior was a deeply troubled person, but Reland didn't know to what extent or what might have caused it. He tensed ever so slightly at the mention of the word "Jidai" but he kept his face blank for most part. He took another drink and set the empty glass down on the table.

Why deny it? He was pretty sure she would run rather than fight. If it came to a fight, she would be at a disadvantage in her state or so he believed. He remained ready but did not make any hostile movements or really any at all.

They sat there in their own little bubble of silence for a moment, the room seeming to fade somewhat as Reland concentrated on the woman in front of him. He finally leaned forward and spoke "Perhaps you simply aren't ready to move forward yet or perhaps you are afraid of what you will find in your new place in this galaxy." he said in a quiet, calm tone.

He sat for a moment longer before pushing back slightly from the table. "I won't lecture you, but offer a word of advice, its often easier to find the right path if you just start walking." with that he stood up and straightened his vest. He felt the lightsaber in its hidden pocket brush up against his chest. "I thank you for the conversation. I find myself at a loss of good drinking companions as of late." he said with grin "The drinks are on me. It was nice meeting you....Muirgheal." he said as he turned to walk to the bar to settle his tab.

@Bantha (A bit quicker this time : p )

 

[Ivaris]

She slowly shook her head as he started to leave.

“Please, not just yet.”

It wasn’t fear of the unknown. It was fear of the known, the certainty that she was a ticking time bomb with the capacity to unleash untold danger on the world. Perchance it was her pride as well, keeping her sitting on her own hands, under the illusion she could control the problem herself.

Tough luck. Muirgheal couldn’t and she knew that. Cutting off her Force sensitivity--in turn the Sith spirit’s --was only a temporary solution. There was rarely a time she feared what she didn't know. Even when the danger was very real, she always assumed she could roll with the punches and handle whatever life threw at her. She felt fear now, as she knew there was no conceivable way to single-handedly defeat an enraged sith lord bent to protect himself and by extension her body, with any means necessary. There was a time when she would have gone forward with facing Gohan on her own, when she was young, reckless, and unaware of how her actions could bring about the death of those she cared for.

"My problem is..." --what could she say? Oh I am sorry random stranger I just met, my issue involves a mad ghost currently trying to take over my body, would you mind removing it for me?
"Paranormal activity," If he was perceptive he'd be able to pick up on her coded cry for help. “But even with my ghosts I’m terribly lonely.” Muirgheal said with a painfully fake coy expression, feeling incredibly sick and disgusting. What a horrible pickup line…There were reasons why she never tried acting. Or flirting. Or generally anything involving words.

She stood up and followed, paying for her share after he took care of his. As she walked out of the cantina and into the street, her heartbeat speed up in anticipation of sudden activity. Even without the force, her baseline physical senses were on high alert, leftover habits from spending her life among people and things who wanted to kill her on a daily basis.

What am I doing? Playing with fire. Trying to jump over a ten-foot wide bottomless pit, with the crazy hope that I can land safely on the other side.

No you’re not. You’re finally taking back your vaira’natura, my Rajus.[/i]

This is what she did now when she couldn’t take a step forward, pretend to talk to those who held some significance. Good or bad, they all had something (imagined) to say.

“Let’s find somewhere to.. talk, if you, you know, what to...”


OCC: vaira'natura= roughly translates from Sith to mean will to live, or inner fire.
@Raydo sorry for the wait. I'm finishing this if it's the last thread I ever do.

 

[Raydo]

Reland raised an eyebrow as she spoke up as he was walking away. He turned and walked back to the table as she began to explain her problem. She skirted around the edges and even now tried to hid her true concerns with him. It didn't take a connection to the Force that she was asking, or atleast, attempting to ask for help in the only way she knew how. They walked up to the bar and each paid for their drinks and then walked out into the "street" outside the bar.

He had rented a rather lavish suite overlooking a garden district. He was here to look for high end slave traders, and he needed to look the part. As they walked along he took stopped and turned to her. "Look, Muirgheal." he said making sure to make no sudden movements and his hands visible lest he spook her. "I am not sure what the extent of your situation is. Know that I am offering to help, absolutely freely. I expect nothing from you in return." he said taking a step closer so he could lower his voice. "You know what I am, and whatever you have previously thought about those like me, know that I will do my best to help you work through what ever you have going on." he said motioning for her to follow him. "I have a place we may talk. It is not too far." he said motioning for her to follow.

His mind then faded back into what she had said earlier. Paranormal Activity? What had he gotten himself into. His mission here had been somewhat simplistic, but now he couldn't help but think his day was about to become much more complicated.

Within a few silent moments the pair reached the lift that went up to his suite. He entered the code to open the door and stepped inside. The room was not large, but it was nice. They were in a living room of sorts with a couch and two chairs, they were separated by an ornate coffee table. He motioned for Muirgheal to sit down on the couch as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from her.

"Now, Perhaps we should start at the beginning."

 

[Ivaris]

The walkway on the side of the strip of buildings had no fence or guardrail, simply stopping over and endless chasm. The many lanes of airspeeders and swoop bikes rushed above their heads, a reminder that DSC Daedalus never truly slept, even at such a late (or early) hour. Neon signs were above each establishment with the text in both huttese and aerubesh, or a few in high galactic.

Muirgheal didn't say anything to Reeland on the way to his place, trailing behind him with her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't surprised when she realized they were headed to the upper-class garden district, given his semi-ambiguous “trader” status and plain but finely-made clothes.

'What is the true essence of his generosity?' She had trouble understanding why anyone would want to help her without payment, with nothing to gain for themselves. Taking pains to remove the pain of others?' Everyone knew Jidai were supposed to be selfless, putting their own needs before their own. This lack of understanding wouldn't keep her from accepting his help, however, and she stayed quiet because there were better times to ask philosophical questions. Like never.

Out of respect she took off her boots after stepping inside, a custom from her homeworld she never bothered to quit. In her stocking feet she made her way to a chair and sat down across from him, resting her ankle on her other knee.

“It's an incredibly ludicrous story you probably won't believe,” she said, keeping her face very straight. Even with her relaxed posture and his non-threatening demeanor she was still on edge and her heart raced. “I am possessed with a centuries-old force ghost named Darth Gohan. I encountered him while on a mission at Bast Castle on Vjun. He decided to release his hold on the building and inhabit me, believing it could be a mutually-beneficial arrangement. It was, as he could have influence over me and I could draw from his power when I needed to. Everything was fine until I defected from the Sith Order. Then I was forced to cut off my connection to the force, since he tried to fully control my body and kill my spirit entirely. “

She shrugged as if there wasn't a ticking time bomb in her hands. “I don't know how you would ever exorcise him from my body safely, if you even could. As soon as he is given hold over me again, he, or we, would try to flee instead of fight . If my body dies and he has nothing to inhabit, his spirit will die forever.” She left unsaid the option of suicide. A lightsaber through the chest might be a quick way to go, but she would rather keep on living with her connection to the force permanently removed.

@Raydo

 

[Raydo]

Reland listened intently as the woman spoke. He had never heard of such a story, but he doubted much could surprise him anymore. He occasionally nodded as she told her story. Ideally he would be able to restrain the individual, but that simply wasn't a possibility at the moment.

After she was done speaking, Reland stood and cleared the furniture from the center of the room. He motioned for the woman to sit down on the floor, and sat down in front of her when she did so. "Now." he began as he crossed his legs. "For there to be any chance, we will need to work together. You have built up barriers and have trapped this...entity in some corner of your mind. Your job will be to make sure that mental prison stays in tact while we figure a way to eradicate it. I don't think I need to speak to the dangers of this for you or myself. If it breaks free in your mind while I am in there, it could tear both of our consciousnesses apart."

He took a deep breath before looking in her the eye. "Are you ready" he said quietly.

He then closed his eyes and began clearing his mind, as he took deep, controlled breaths. After a few moments, he began reaching out to her mind. As he drew near he felt her presence, but then he also felt that cold, menacing presence as it hid deep inside her mind.

 

[Ivaris]

Muirgheal removed the small vial from her pocket and administered the chemical that negated the death stick's effects. She got it once thinking to be prepared in the event of an overdose. The drug wasn’t as commonly used as one would think. It was expensive—almost half a year’s wages for the common worker if bought through legitimate means. Muirgheal didn’t so it was even harder to find. It took only a few minutes to work; by the time Reeland entered her mind, she would be Force sensitive again.

Sitting on the plush rug, she crossed her legs and took Reeland’s hands in her own. All at once, she could finally feel. A thousand senses, suddenly painfully aware of every thought, feeling, beating heart, and breath taken by living beings nearby. Her sight had once been trapped in the dark, only to have the mask ripped off and the terrible, blinding lights turned upon her face. One part exhilaration, another part too dangerous to process all at once. She hated it, but it made the colors brighter. So She didn’t fight it, riding the course until she could come to her senses and filter out the influence of all that was around her.

After several moments where her body was rigid and her eyes cloudy and unfocused, she relaxed and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

She bowed her head and closed her eyes, shutting out distractions and centering herself. First order of business was to build walls. She wouldn’t wast energy attempting to wall off everything from Reeland, like her memories. Even if she was still slightly wary of others learning her most intimate thoughts, he wouldn’t be focused on them today. Drawing from the force and her own strength of will to prod Gohan and wake him, enabling the monster awareness. Then the fun would begin.

She visualized a thin, icy finger to prod the being of darkness. It was already stirring, so with the touch it snapped to attention and screamed. Nothing would be heard to outside ears, but as echos in the force it was excruciatingly loud.

Walls fell from her inner, imagined stormy sky to fall around the spirit. They slammed down and shuddered as the final placed itself on the very top, forming a complete seal. They held for a few moments before they began to crack, Gohan’s will overpowering Muirghel’s. She summoned more will, fighting and white-knuckling Reeland’s hands in attempt to lash out more willpower at her enemy. The walls still continued to crack.

Suddenly very afraid, Muirgheal resorted to using the only thing that came to her. It was an act of desperation. If he could use the dark side, so could she. The dive back into that hole of darkness was intoxicating and corrupting, imbued with pain soon forgotten on the rush of power. Almost maddening rage flooded her veins, burning her and threatening to destroy her. But it wouldn’t, for her aura was great and powerful, a whirlwind of anger and hate with her consciousness at the center. She threw everything she had at that monster to keep him contained, the imagined walls repairing themselves and gaining incredible strength. Gohan screamed again, but she screamed back, sending him reeling within his artificial prison.

@Raydo