Ghosts and spirits (open)

[D'Mourning Orb]

In the ghost's transparent stare there was an innate sense of beauty, predicated by the votary cause of spirits. A man did not need eyes, for in his heart, he knew them. D'Mourning Orb could feel them. We are all merely a manifestation. The Holy Ghost unifies us all, our souls' sanctity in a heroing cause for fulfillment. We are all ghosts, all spirits. In that moment, sitting there in the light of introspection, grace filled the void embodiment of D'Mourning's complete, utter discontent. His fingertips found the bar's omnificent lights, and with a sure motion the brights followed the ghost of his hand, a glow of remarkable radiance dilating the eyes of all pupils in his wake.

The clock ticked... and the ghost sat, his eyes surveying the room. A spirit would find him.

[Gia Van Derveld]

I stumbled into the bar, and sat glumly on one of the stools. I managed to order a drink before burying my face in my hands to hide the tears trickling out of my eyes.

My shoulders hurt from holding in my emotions, and yet I hardly knew why I cried. No..I knew. I knew too much. I had a gift...a curse. And it had been fully restored to me just a week past.

And once more, I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to Prent had befriended me on Coruscant, and now, thanks to Sasseeri, I had some money (and my memories back..that bitch!). I was free to go, but I knew that she could recall me at any time. I was helpless once more.

I sniffled, and wiped my eyes hurriedly as the 'tender placed my drink in front of me.

[D'Mourning Orb]

D'Mourning's stare became rather taut, narrow as a lonesome stranger entered his focus. Her expression, faceless, as belittled by the gentle streaming of malcontent's sufferage, galvanized by a weak moment of empathy for her sorrowing ghosts. A tedious sorrow, shook the very essence of her being, and sculpted a fallen frame of bated breath ominous to her anguish. A tear found the round of her disingenuous, quivering lips...

D'Mourning felt a napkin in his grasp. Before he knew what he was doing, he found a pen transcribing his effort.

He wrote upon the fabric: A penny for your thoughts. No one knows them better than you do.

D'Mourning, through non-verbal communication, asked the bartender to relay the message.

[Gia Van Derveld]

I sniffled, and reached for my drink, but found a note written on a napkin that was lying beside the sweaty glass.

Fingers shaking, I pick it up, and then look around, trying to locate the writer of the message. Eyes refocusing, I re-read the note in my mind. A penny for your thoughts. No one knows them better than you do.

Oh how true that was. I look down the length of the bar towards a quiet man, and our eyes met, a question in mine.

[D'Mourning Orb]

Approaching the stranger from her right, akward moodiness estranged by the dark hues of the establishment became the residue of D'Mourning Orb's wake. In his movement, subtle eye contact was made with the Swan's Down of innocent eyes. He approached further. Only the plauge of suffering, alone, could only cause such an abrasion, a chalice of irratation in the form of tortued eyes. In them, he felt a marigold wither.

D'Mourning found a stool, sitting beside the one with fallen wings. A napkin, guided by his fingertips, came to rest in front of her.

In black ink, I am deaf. So, i can't actually listen. But if you need someone to talk to, I can sure read lips.

A few inches below read, My name's D'Mourning.

[Gia Van Derveld]

Deaf? I remembered hearing that those who lacked a sense, such as sight, or hearing, made up for it other ways. Such as acute hearing would accompany the blind, tremendous visual skills the deaf - I shook my head slightly, once more tempted to go back to Sasseeri and ask her to drain my mind of its memories.

My Alderaanian heritage held much for me, although I had no homeland. I only knew of Alderaan through holos, and from my father's faded memories from when he had been just a boy. But I carried each detail with me..and would continue to. Forever. There had been one other kinswoman of mine who had my gift. Her code name during the Rebellion had been "Targeter."

I smiled a little at the man sitting next to me, and wiped at my eyes again. "Well...D'Mourning... I don't know. I just have no where to go. Can't go home. Can't go back to Coruscant. No where to go but forward, and I don't know where that leads." I laughed bitterly, and reached for my drink.

"The only thing I don't know is the future. I wish I could forget my past."

[D'Mourning Orb]

D'Mourning turned over the napkin and wrote rather quickly a
response.

No. The future is predicated on our past. Afterall, If we have no past, we have no identity. We are all thoughts without any reference. I do believe in changing our identities, though. But, in order to do so, we must build a new past, a new foundation for ourselves. And not to sound too preachy, but the means with which to make such a bold move has absolutely nothing to do with wishful thinking.

[Gia Van Derveld]

I set my drink down, and read his words carefully. I had no need to re-read the note, but I did so anyway, or at least, I stared at the napkin while reviewing what I had read in my mind.

"I feel like a thought with no reference sometimes." I turned my eyes back towards the man. "But I have no way to build a new past. What is done, is done, is it not? I cannot forget it, so it will always be my past." I unconsciously rubbed my arm, where once I'd sported a bruise from my husband. I'd left him on Umgul. If he ever came looking for me....

[D'Mourning Orb]

Your past is your past. And for that we should feel so fortunate. For we can build a new one, right now, this very instant. By the end of this sentence, you will have a new thought, a new memory. We are constantly building a new past, a new path for ourselves. All of what I am writing here, it may not be considerable to you. But consideration is in the eye of the beholder, and if you are willing, I know I can help you overcome, miss.

He left a question mark after miss, as if to ask for her name.

[Gia Van Derveld]

"Gia. Gia Thorn." I shrugged. "It makes sense now, I suppose. But you can't help me. You see...I can't forget anything. Anything I see I remember.

"Even if I don't want to." My voice wavered as a tear dripped out of my right eye. "I just need to move on, but I can't...can't seem to make myself."