My face is almost healed.
My pride, however, wants some maker-damed revenge.
Going to try and get in touch with Rinn. She’s got her fingers in all sorts of pies, all across Nar Shaddaa. I know that if Rodo’s in hiding - which he is, the little akkshit - she’ll be a good place to start the search. Get her in on the planning stages. Make sure something like this never, ever happens again.
I also think I still owe her a drink or two for letting me try that coat on.
Dhen’s getting transferred for training or something. Fuckin’ hate that. First Bald, now him. If fuckin’ command takes Jerax from me, I swear to the stars I’m gonna take up bounty hunting and start shooting bitches.
Jerax and I…
We’re still doing. We’re okay. Sort of.
I feel like I’m holding on by the absolute edges of my fingernails. But I’ll be thrice-damned down the gullet of a starving sarlacc before I let him go. He says he wants to be with me. I know I want to be with him.
Everything just feels so complicated lately.
I just want everything to be simple again.
Every now and then I realize, when I’m in the middle of a scene, or RPing with a big group of friends, or just talking OOC about characters, that RP is one of the greatest things I’ve ever taken part in.
I seriously have to thank all of the people I know on Tumblr (whether I know you intimately or not, or have RPed with you or not) and all of my RP partners now and over the years for making my roleplay endeavors so much damn fun. The stories have been great, and while some of it has been really intense, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
But I think that it goes beyond the IC portion. Sometimes I worry that my main partner/partners will wake up one morning and think, “wait, why am I playing with you?” And that, in itself, is why I RP. It’s a confidence builder for your own ideas. It lets you know that you can and are willing to throw yourself on the fire when you think no one else will like you just to see if just maybe your idea, as inconsequential as you think it is, is a good one. And sure, you might get a few bad reactions. But then you meet people who make you feel like, “hey, I can do this!” I think RP is really all about personal growth. Confidence in yourself, in your ideas. Because, yeah, sure, it’s just RP. You don’t have to see these people face to face. But throwing yourself and your ideas when you feel like you’re being scrutinized out there can be really, really daunting.
((ITT: my best friend is awesome.))
They found me and got me out of there last night.
I’m back on my ship. Nea’s still camped out in the cargo bay.
I don’t know what to think any more. To do any more. Maybe it’s just the last bits of spice in my system, maybe I’m still…
I’m not going anywhere. I just signed that damn contract. I’m the primary shipping contractor for the 7th, that’s not changing.
Even if Jerax is acting like he wants to leave me. I didn’t even fucking know he was there last night until we were back on my ship. Fucking Dhen’s the one who carried me out of there, picked me right up and threw me over his shoulder, while Ihlrath ran distraction. I didn’t even fucking see Jerax until Dhen was patching me up and resetting my nose.
And he wouldn’t even fucking look at me. He wouldn’t touch me until he curled up on the med bay bed to go to sleep. I guess I should be thankful for that, that he slept with me instead of in the other room. But… did he think I was in that cage for fun? That that’s what I wanted to do?
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe his feelings for me aren’t like mine are for him. I guess we have to have that talk.
And this is two life-debts I owe Dhen now. Damn it. Can’t buy those away with whiskey and rum, no matter how classy the label. And fucking… I don’t even know. It must have been the spice. Pretty sure he wasn’t looking at me like that later, when we were talking. Like he wanted to just pick me up and kiss me right there. Must have been the fuckin’ spice.
I fucking hate that shit.
I fucking hate everything right now.
Things were supposed to get better. I was supposed to go away for a day or three and come back and everything was supposed to be better.
Nothing is better.
Oh maker, it hurts.
Vyen’a’s eyes opened slowly, painfully; eyelids caked with blood stuck together by the lashes and crunched as she tried to focus on the wall in front of her. Every nerve ending in her face screamed in protest, and she lay still, focusing on her breathing, counting fingers and toes, taking careful stock of her person.
Pants on. Good sign. Cement floor. Bad sign. Tasting blood. Worse sign. No blaster. Fuck.
She groaned slightly, pushing herself to a half-slumped position against the wall, eyesight sliding in and out of focus as she wracked her brain. How did she end up here, where is here, why is here?
Whiskey. Thinking about Jerax. Bar, 14th level lower, Nar Shaddaa. Heard my name, turned…
She groaned again, this time from the memory.
That little pindick Rodo always wanted to be a badass; looks like some Hutt gave him the chance. He was a lousy fuck and I told him as much. Figures he’d be bitter. And this Hutt. Who’s this Hutt…
Her brain flipped through its index of clients she’d shipped and smuggled for, both taken and rejected. Spice was always the offer from Hutts; spice was the one thing she refused to smuggle. Ever. Slowly the two faces merged together; human and Hutt; a business meeting one particularly hungover morning after, some eight months back.
Oh, this isn’t good.
She carefully brought her hand to her face, touching swollen and split lips. Her fingers traced the outline of her nose and she hissed in pain. Yeah, that’s broken. She tentatively ran her thumb across the old scar crossing her cheek, checking nervously to make sure the flesh had remained true.
Okay. I’m alive. In a room. Clothes on. Weapon gone. That sarlacc shit Rodo is out there somewhere. What do I do. Think, woman. Thi—
Her internal planning is halted as the door to the room slams open, and Rodo strode in, smirking. “The little slut is awake! Fantastic. Bring the chair, boys.” Vyen’a smirked up at him as best she could, eyes barely open from the bruising. “And here I thought you forgot all about me.”
Rodo laughed. It was not a happy sound. “Bitch, I’ve been waiting for this for damn near a year. Grab her.” The surly looking Trandoshans shrugged, setting down a chair and a bag and reaching for her. Vyen’a put her hands up in a placating gesture. “C’mon. A whole year, Rodo! I’m sure you’ve had a better fuck than me since then. Let’s just go get a drink or three. I’ll eve—” Her words were cut short by the man’s hand cracking across her mouth. “Shut the fuck up, slut. You always did run your mouth too much. I’ll be sure to use it for a better purpose later.”
Vyen’a spit on the floor and watched as the blood seeped into the concrete, then looked up, a snarl on her split lip. “I fuckin’ dare you. If you could even find it with both hands and a map, it’s barely bite-sized anyway.” The man scowled and brought his blaster up into Vyena’s nose, sending her reeling backwards as stars and fireworks of pain exploded across her field of vision. One of the Trandoshans caught her as she stumbled, looking at Rodo. He smirked triumphantly. “Strap her down.”
Vyen’a struggled feebly against the vice-like hands clamped down around her and kicked out with a snarl, sending one of the men hopping back with a yowl. Rodo’s hand cracked across her face again. “We’ll take that fight out of you, you haughty bitch. You’re mine now.” Her eyes sparked fire and she spit at him. He just sneered as the projectile missed it’s mark, watching as the men lashed her arms to the chair. “Yeah. First thing’s first. Lemme introduce you to your new best friend.” He pulled a syringe from his coat, filled with a liquid so vibrantly blue is almost sparkled. Vyena’s eyes widened slightly.
No. No. No, maker, no…
Rodo smirked at her expression. “Yeah. Not so high and mighty now, are you, bitch?” Vyen’a looked at him, fear apparent for the first time in her eyes. “C’mon, man. Anything but that. C’mon.” She strained against the bindings around her arms, trying to pull free. The man laughed, gripping her wrist. “Fuck. You.”
Vyen’a looked away as the needle pushed into her skin, squeezing her eyes closed. Fight it. Fight it. Do that Jedi meditation bullshit. Fight it, baby. Rodo laughed at her expression, waving the men out of the room first, then slamming the door behind him as he left, calling out to the other men. “Find her an outfit. We’ll have her dance in one of the cages tonight.”
Vyen’a’s fingers gripped the edge of the chair’s arms.
Fight it. Fight. Fight, you bitch! Fight!
She choked on a sob as the first tendrils of the drug started to curl around her consciousness.
I’m sorry, mama. I know I promised. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Vyen’a opened her eyes, the walls weaving in and out around her, everything laced with glittering stars.
Jerax. Please find me.
Her lids fluttered, eyes rolling back.
It’s taken me a week to process this. An entire week.
We’ve been moved off Voss. Everything is wrong.
A few days after Jerax and I got back from Corellia, back from visiting his family, the seventh was escorting Ihlrath and that bitch Alysen or whatever her name is to some fancy-ass Jedi or Voss temple. I don’t even know. They were taking that holocron that they found there for safe-keeping.
And we were ambushed on the way. Fucking Sith. And it was a total clusterfuck and Jerax… he panicked. Morgan had more in-field experience and he screamed for a retreat while still standing his ground and Jerax listened instead of stepping up and taking charge.
Morgan and Jayl were captured. Sargis and Lugah and Astor were injured, badly.
And that fucking bitch Alysen thought that her little glowbox was worth more than the lives of Morgan and Jayl. And she half got her way. They traded it for Jayl.
We didn’t get Morgan back. He’s gone. The Sith took him.
We’ll never get him back. I know what Sith do; all I have to to is ask Bald’s girl, still huddled in my cargo bay. Her eyes turned even more haunted when I told her what happened.
And she’s got a roommate now. Morgan’s girl Katalin didn’t take the news well. Obviously. She’s some little Jedi padawan but apparently she and Morgan had a little something going on the side. So now she’s in my cargo bay with Ty’nea, both with their little corners and their little bunks and crying themselves to sleep every night.
Jerax is a mess. I’ve never seen him like this. He completely blames himself for everything: the ambush, the captures, losing Morgan. I try to do what I can for him, but there’s only so much I can do. He’s not sleeping; when he does, he has nightmares.
And I feel horrible because I still have Jerax here with me. He’s not on the other side of the galaxy. He’s not been dragged off by Sith to an unknown end. But I don’t know how long that’ll last. Every day brings a fresh new hell and I’m terrified that one day soon I’ll be curled on my bed weeping along with Nea and Kat. I’ve half a mind to ask him to marry me; so he’ll know that even if that day comes, I wanted it to be forever with him. So he can have some security out here.
Maybe so I can have some, too.
And the Marran retreated to Tython. Ihlrath packed them all up off Voss to recuperate. Less than impressed with him right now; all he lost was a glowbox. He’s not answering his comm. Jerax needs strong allies right now and he took his jedi club and left.
I wish Bald was here. I wish Morgan was here.
I wish I never heard of Voss.
Visual Feed attached. Commence playback?: Y/N
*The loud roar of a transport ship filters through the speakers before the static stops, settling on a familiar face. Her eyes, however, are bloodshot and puffy, her cheeks drawn, and her mouth in an unsettling frown. She sniffs before opening her mouth, laughing sharply. It’s not a happy sound.*
I should be happy. I should be fuckin’ ecstatic. Morgan’s back. They found him, and got him free. Alive, too. Pretty fucked up, but alive. Last I saw him, he was floating in kolto on the fleet, Katalin practically hugging the tank to be near him.
*She grimaces, running her hand through her hair*
Fuckin’ Ozakif had to start picking. And picking. And…
Fuck. I hate it. He’s right. That fuckin’ busted chronometer was right on time for once. The lieutenant pays more attention to me than he does the seventh. That ain’t good for anyone. And yeah, maybe I am just a dumb fuckin’ whore. I sure as shit was before I met Jerax. One or two nights and then just set them free.
*She swallows, voice cracking*
And so it shouldn’t have fucking mattered when Jerax said no. I shouldn’t have had to play it off like a joke. Like asking him to marry me was something I thought up on the fly to make him laugh on the way to that meeting. It should have just been a joke. Not real.
*She wipes her eyes quickly, scowling*
Dhen-zaka found me bawling my damn eyes out like a kid on the way to the Nar Shaddaa shuttle. I took it instead of my ship, since the girls are living in my cargo bay still. I don’t even have my damn ship any more. He’s such a sweetheart. Four months ago I would have fucked him just for fun, but now the idea of anyone else but Jerax in my bed makes my heart hurt. He calmed me down and set me on my way with a hug.
I’ll buy him some whiskey when I get back. Niatara doesn’t know what she’s missing out on if she lets him slip through her fingers.
*She sniffs and tilts her chin almost arrogantly*
So fuck it. Fuck all of it. I’m going off the grid for a few days. Seedy bars and bottomless whiskeys and dancing with the spiceheads like I used to do. Get my own head clear twenty levels down on Nar Shaddaa.
Find Vyen’a again. Be who I’m supposed to be again.
And I’ll come back and shit will be good.
Please, let it be better.
!!! VISUAL FEED ENDED! SAVE RECORDING? Y/N !!!
Visual Feed attached. Commence playback?: Y/N
*A flicker of static gives way to the lush reds and oranges of Voss trees, silhouetted against the perpetual golden sky. Vyen’a’s smile nearly splits her face in two as she looks over her shoulder, then at the camera.*
We just got back to Voss. The last few days in Corellia have been some of the best I’ve had in a very long time. Just when I think Jerax can’t amaze me any more, he goes and tops himself.
*She chuckles, flexing the fingers on her left hand a few times.*
Of course, I nearly ruined my chances with his folks right off the bat - or so I thought. His ex girlfriend heard he was coming home - that ex, the bitch who broke his heart so bad - and acted like some prissy little bitch princess. She didn’t like me much. The feeling was completely returned.
Unfortunately for her, she didn’t know when to shut the fuck up. And I ended up breaking her nose, right in the middle of Jerax’s parent’s front room. Like I said, thought I ruined my chances with his parents at that very moment.
*Her grin widens.*
Of course, that was before I found out his mom never liked that bitch anyway. Score one for the good guys.
His mom is amazing. And she likes me. She really likes me.
Hell, at the end of the very long, pretty scary talk we had, she asked if she could start introducing me as her daughter-in-law to-be.
*Vyen’a’s smile grows damn near shy at that point.*
I told her she had to take that one up with Jerax.
But his family is wonderful. Corellia is beautiful. Did some great shopping - found that thing for Dhen-zaka that I said I’d look for, for his girl - and now we’re back.
And this shit with the Marran and those glowy boxes of doom will be over in a few days. We’ll be escorting them to some fancy-ass Jedi sanctuary or Voss temple or something. And that’ll be easy.
*She laughs, looking up.*
Things are finally starting to make sense again.
Thank the fuckin’ maker.
!!!VISUAL FEED TERMINATED!!!
So my leg is better, which is a blessing. Apparently I nearly bled out all over Jerax in the middle of Gormak lands, which was probably about as traumatizing as it sounds for him. Poor love.
Of course, I’m still limping around a bit, a bit more now since I went on that operation with the Seventh and the Marran. Better doesn’t mean all healed for me, really, but I’d be damned before I let them all go back out into Gormak lands to hunt some sith… thing without me there to keep an eye on everyone and make sure they all got back in one piece.
And they did, no thanks to some bitch Jedi who decided that caution was for the weak and tore out ass over tea kettle toward where the whatever was. Even though Jayl had just disarmed a bomb attached to the tiniest tripwire I’ve ever seen.
So sick of force users in general.
Some are okay. Like Master Johv - who got hurt while we were out; never seen a man that big get dropped like that - and Master Ihlrath.
Ihlrath, actually, is rather charming. He got hurt, as well; had to be carried by his padawan back to the med tents at Talanis. I was checking on him when he came to, and he looked at me like…
Let’s just say it’s probably a good thing Jerax didn’t happen to see that particular look. There’s already enough tension between the 7th and the Marran, even though both groups are working hand in hand, mostly friendly, that an unwarranted flareup of jealousy on Jerax’s part could be disastrous.
Especially since there’s nothing there.
It was odd, though. When Ihlrath woke, I could almost swear that he had fangs curling down over the edge of his lip like a vorn tiger. I checked later, though, when I went back to see how Master Johv’s concussion was treating him, and they were gone. Probably just a trick of the light.
This little excursion in the rain and mud was Jerax’s final straw. He and I are going to Corellia in a few days: he’s taking me to meet his parents. I am not and have never been the take home to mom and dad sort of girl. I can’t remember the last time I was so nervous.
I really hope they like me.
I mean. Of course they’ll like me. I’m fucking fabulous.
But I hope they like me for Jerax. He’s their only kid.
Thinking about it makes me feel almost sick.
Of course they’ll like me.
I should check out that noise in the hyperdrive exovalve system before we leave for Corellia.
…I’ll do that now.