Lamar Starworth
Oct 23rd, 2008, 12:11:23 AM
Smile Boy
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
From the highs of Cloud City his eyes saw Bespin. The beauty of the clouds, and all the people stuffing it with sound and life. Everyday there was something going on in the city. Every moment there was something happening. So, he sat, and so he watched.
He was all alone now. There was no longer the cold of his armor to hide his pain. There was no longer the shield of Imperial duty to call his name. There was no longer anything. He was all alone now.
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
At the edge of the bridge, seperating the two points of bustling life moved the regal to the regular, common folk. Above perched were eyes, from the crouched man, hidden behind his garbs and cloak to fight against the cold of empty space. Beside him was no one, under him was everyone, and above was nothingness, and such was his life. For years he had dedicated himself to ranking, progression, and greatness. A physique built by the sharp tools of Empire's rule, and Jedi discipline had mixed to fix his body to a peak that only the two together could forge.
He was an example of training. He was an example of practice. He was an example of a weapon.
Yet, there was no enemy on this day. Atleast, there was no enemy his eyes could see. However, there was an enemy somewhere his eyes could not find without assistance. Only a mirror could help him in his search for his true foil. No one else was out there. Even as the whispers of his betrayl seeped through the Empire and it's ranks, he didn't see a single enemy. Even as Rebels hid in the depths of the very city he looked over, and an Imperial station hummed nearby, he saw not one enemy but himself.
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
Alone.
Then, a second passed. Then, another second passed. Somewhere between those two seconds he was gone. He was still alone, but at least he was surrounded. In the sea of faces, he swam, lost without his hood to guard him from curious eyes. Pain had made him a handsome one. Maybe someone would notice him and his anguish.
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
From the highs of Cloud City his eyes saw Bespin. The beauty of the clouds, and all the people stuffing it with sound and life. Everyday there was something going on in the city. Every moment there was something happening. So, he sat, and so he watched.
He was all alone now. There was no longer the cold of his armor to hide his pain. There was no longer the shield of Imperial duty to call his name. There was no longer anything. He was all alone now.
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
At the edge of the bridge, seperating the two points of bustling life moved the regal to the regular, common folk. Above perched were eyes, from the crouched man, hidden behind his garbs and cloak to fight against the cold of empty space. Beside him was no one, under him was everyone, and above was nothingness, and such was his life. For years he had dedicated himself to ranking, progression, and greatness. A physique built by the sharp tools of Empire's rule, and Jedi discipline had mixed to fix his body to a peak that only the two together could forge.
He was an example of training. He was an example of practice. He was an example of a weapon.
Yet, there was no enemy on this day. Atleast, there was no enemy his eyes could see. However, there was an enemy somewhere his eyes could not find without assistance. Only a mirror could help him in his search for his true foil. No one else was out there. Even as the whispers of his betrayl seeped through the Empire and it's ranks, he didn't see a single enemy. Even as Rebels hid in the depths of the very city he looked over, and an Imperial station hummed nearby, he saw not one enemy but himself.
Crouched.
He sat there.
Crouched.
Alone.
Then, a second passed. Then, another second passed. Somewhere between those two seconds he was gone. He was still alone, but at least he was surrounded. In the sea of faces, he swam, lost without his hood to guard him from curious eyes. Pain had made him a handsome one. Maybe someone would notice him and his anguish.