Overture: We’re In This Together Now [complete]

[Devin Ducat]

Continued from 'Brena' (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=27823)


We’re In This Together Now

I've become impossible
Holding on to when,
When everything seemed to matter more
The two of us
All used and beaten up
Watching fate as it flows
Down the path
We have chose

You and me
We're in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through somehow
You and me
If the world should break in two
Until the very end of me
Until the very end of you

Awake to the sound as they peel apart the skin
They pick and they pull
Trying to get their fingers in
Well they've got to kill what we've found
Well they've got to hate what they fear
Well they've got to make it go away
Well they've got to make it disappear

The farther I fall I’m beside you
As lost as I get I will find you
The deeper the wound I’m inside you
Forever and ever I am a part of

You and me
We're in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through somehow
You and me
If the world should break in two
Until the very end of me
Until the very end of you
All that we were is gone we have to hold on
All that we were is gone we have to hold on
When all our hope is gone we have to hold on
All that we were is gone but we can hold on

You and me
We're in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through somehow
You and me
Even after everything
You're the queen and I’m the king
Nothing else means anything

***

dripdripdripdrip…wakeup

Devin’s eyes snapped open, and a terrible feeling of nausea swept up from his gut into his throat. Bile spilled out of his lips as he scrambled up to his knees, feeling about on clammy concrete for something to hold onto as he wretched into the gutter. For a long while he sat hunched over the flood drain, watching nothing in particular as the rain water cleaned away the vomit from the curb of the street.

“Where am I?”

He looked up, and around. PJ’s, the bar, was right in front of him, though all the lights were out – his mind told him quietly that this meant it was past 4 O’clock in the morning. His body groaned under the strain of holding itself up, and slumped down against the road, confident that there would be no speeders in this area to endanger his health.

“What am I doing here?”

His memory was slowly jogging up to speed with his awakening. It told him he had been out walking, walking with Brena towards PJ’s to get a drink – but they had never gotten to have their drink together. Someone had arrived and in a flurry of pious rage had struck both himself and Brena to the floor.

Devin began to get up, but quickly found his left foot would not hold the weight applied to it. Yes, that was right – an old man had disabled him by knocking his feet from beneath him. Grumbling, he pulled a piece of street flotsam from the road sign, using the reeking plank of wood as a crutch for while he was standing. He breathed out a deep sigh, trying to mentally smooth over the pain in his ankle.

… where was Brena?

[Brena Ducat]

A flurry of images whirled by, at a speed too fast to be recognised. Yellow eyes tried to distinguish what was happening, but to no avail – thought progression moved at such a speed that she was unable to.

stand up… pain in foot… walk… walk… where is Brena?

Almost like watching a holovid, from a first person view, a scene unfolded. Someone looked around an alleyway and groaned in distaste. Unfortunately, Brena could taste the thick bile of their mouth on her tongue – but she couldn’t quite tell where her tongue was. It seemed very dream like, as though she was watching the world through some very wet and dirty glasses.

pain… where am I… I can’t see Brena… what’s happened?

Where was that voice coming from? If she had a face to scowl with, she would have done. But no – there was no face, no physical form. Only a view out of the eyes of … Devin. It sounded like Devin, and it smelt a little like Devin, wherever she was.

A pang of panic struck her mind, and she saw through the eyes of what she could only guess was Devin that he paused, frightened also.

… Devin?

[Devin Ducat]

… Devin?

Devin stumbled and maintained his balance only thanks to the plank of wood he held. Something, like a dull headache, was throbbing in his mind. It caused him to squeeze his eyes shut, though when he did so it only made the pain worse. He looked back around and felt all at once breathless and unsure of himself.

DevinwherethefrellamIwhat’sgoingon

“Brena?!”

He had heard her voice, and whipped around as fast as he could, but saw nothing in the darkness. His eyes roamed back and forth, but still saw nothing. A few ginger steps backwards towards PJ, and he heard it again.

Youbastardhelpme!

The curb was right behind him and caused him to trip backwards, right into someone leaving PJs. The man behind him grunted and Devin slurred an apology as he frantically looked around.

“Brena, quit the tricks… they aren’t funny.”

[Brena Ducat]

Whattricks?!IthinkI’munconsious!Findme

The view she was given was of Devin having bumped into someone then continued looking around for her, and although she shouted at him and he appeared to respond, she was beginning to feel doubt creeping over here. If he could hear her, yet could not see her, and she felt no physical presence … where was she?

Whathappened?WheredidWarlockgo! she screamed out as loud as she could into his mind.

[Devin Ducat]

Devin whirled around straight into the door of the bar, his chest thudding against the heavy wood as he pushed both hands desperately to find the door handle. It yielded eventually and the thing swung open, tossing him into an inferno of cigarra smoke and rough jazz music. People barely noticed his entrance as he stumbled forward, and if they did so attributed it to a little too much port.

Shoutforhelp!!!

A pained grimace passed over his face as he stumbled his way into one of the empty booths in the room, trying to quell his panting and wheezes as the noise from the bar seemed to lull.

[Nameless Jedi]

It was customary for Jedi of the Greater Jedi Order to do routine checks in Coruscant. Often a group, or a single lightsider, would go out on a patrol of the streets, just to make sure that nothing untoward was going on. Tonight, one such Jedi was in Peter Jenkyns – or PJs as it was more commonly known – sipping on a flavoured tea as she listened to the melodic sounds of the Corellian Light Strings band. As was expected, she wore light brown robes, and carried a metallic cylinder on her waist. On the small stage ahead of her seat the band played a slow repetitive tune, whilst a man in a dark beret and skin tight clothing read out a piece of prose.

She smiled in appreciation, though the look faded as she felt a small disturbance in the Force. A quick glance behind her and she saw a man fumble his way into the bar. Apparently, she was one of the only people to notice him, as most others ignored the man, even though he looked in need of help. Perhaps, she though, he was drunk. If this was the case it would be better not to meddle.

She would bide her time.

[Devin Ducat]

His head was cradled in his hands, palms pressed against cold sweaty temples.

“What the frell is wrong with me,” came a slow mutter as he rubbed at his eyes, as though trying to remove this nightmare from his vision.

“DevinHelpme…”

The voice became irrationally loud for a moment as Devin stared downwards, though as his mind tried to calm him, it silenced. A small smile irked over his lips.

Brena?

There was no answer. At least for now he was actually alone with his thoughts. Now, to what was going on – she had obviously passed some spell onto him. Perhaps after the man had attacked them she had sacrificed his mind in return for forgiveness? It didn’t sound likely, but it was one of the only plausible excuses for this phenomenon that he could dream up.

“Can I get you a drink?”

He almost jumped out of his seat, startled at the female voice. For a second, he had sworn it was Brena. Luckily, it was only a waitress.

“Vodka and orange, please.”

[Brena Ducat]

… man I haven’t had a good vodka in a long time… I miss coming to PJs… what the frell is going on right now…

She felt unable to speak. Or at least, if she was able to speak, unable to be heard. The image of a waitress, in skimpy clothing, came into view. She smiled and asked a question, though made no sound. The view nodded, as Devin did, as the waitress departed.

… damn she looked fine… wonder who that old guy was… dren, hope this drink doesn’t cost more than a few chits…

Again, the train of thought passed by. It seemed now that she had lapsed out of Devin’s focus, and was pushed into some realm where she held no sway. Though she screamed and screamed for his attention, his mind didn’t not respond, nor did he give any physical indication that he was hearing her cries.

[Devin Ducat]

Once his drink arrived, he quickly forgot what had been going on. Vodka shot after shot numbed his thoughts to the prospect of Brena’s hex and allowed him to concentrate on what he would perceive as more important things. He tired of the repetitive satisfaction given by the women of the local brothel and was eager to find another companion. PJs had never been an excellent place for finding women – seeing as how most of the people here abstained from relationships, favouring to further their own ‘spirituality’ and ‘oneness with the Force’ – but there was no harm in giving it a go.

He approached a young woman at the bar, leaning against the counter as he spoke with alcohol laced breath:

“Hi, I’m Devin… can I get you a drink?”

[Nameless Jedi]

She rose her glass of cordial, giving a polite smile.

“I already have one, but thank you very much for offering.”

As a Jedi, she was trained to deal with all sorts of people, and had long ago become immune to the stench of liquor tainting someone’s speech. None the less, she disliked being around drunks as they had a tendency to act out of character, and thus get a usually innocent person into all sorts of bother. For this reason she offered another smile before beginning to head off back to her seat amidst the other music fans.

[Devin Ducat]

Not one to be shunned so easily, Devin reached out his free hand and lightly took ahold of the girl’s shoulders. He could feel, even in his partially drunken state, long dark hair under his fingertips. Though she dressed a bit oddly, this one was daintly beautiful, and her ashen features were framed well by her long hair.

“What’s your name?”

[Nameless Jedi]

sigh

The moment his hand had touched her shoulder, she’d felt the need to reach for her lightsaber – but abstained. She turned back around slowly, and gave another petite smile. Although she did not wish to encourage this ‘Devin’ character, she was also hoping to convince him to leave her be without the use of force.

“Emiliana,” she lied convincingly.

“And if you don’t mind Devin, I’m going to get back to my seat. I don’t want to miss Ziggy’s last poem,” she added, the smile ever-present.

[Brena Ducat]

… she’s giving me the brush off… isn’t she hot?... come on, keep at it…

It was infuriating that she could not hear what the woman was replying, but none the less with Devin’s mind giving a running commentary she could piece together what the possible words could be. From the looks and sounds of things, drunken Ducat wasn’t too smooth with the ladies – and Brena was frankly not surprised. He became rude and boorish after he’d taken a drink or tw…

As the woman turned away, Brena spied something as Devin’s gaze dropped to admire Emiliana’s behind. A thin cylinder, made from metal, clipped against the woman’s belt.

“She’s a Jedi! JEDI DEVIN!”

[Devin Ducat]

“Sh—a—J—i—ED-- IN!”

Devin blinked. He had been about to respond to Emiliana, emploring her to reconsider, when he’d heard the quiet voice. What it said made no sense but for some reason at that very moment he felt the urge to be violent. Whether it was the alcohol, or some other force, directing him, it was telling him to break something. Anything.

With a snarl he cast his shot glass down onto the ground and amazingly ten or so faces turned at the sound of the tinkling shards. Quickly they looked away, and Devin let out an angst-driven groan before storming off out into the street once more.

“Good boy.”

[Nameless Jedi]

That was… unexpected.

The Jedi turned to look at the barman, who gave a non-committal shrug. From simply brushing her mind gently against his she could tell this was an out of character display of aggression from the man who had said his name was Devin, though she could gather little else. Her best instincts told her to let it go, to stay and listening to the reading, but the will of the Force and compulsion to uphold the Jedi code commanded her otherwise.

She sighed, paid for her drink and said her goodbyes, before pacing out towards the door.

[Devin Ducat]

Inside his mind, commands were being delivered – and in turn over ridden.

As he walked out into the street, cursing under his breath, he was almost knocked over by a speeder, which swerved at the last minute to avoid him. Somehow, he didn’t really care. He wandered across the now open road, and spied a piece of piping on the road. His ‘conscience’ told him to scoop it right on up, so he did so, testing the piece of metal in his grip.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he questioned why he was doing this, but a little voice just told him:

“Because.”

[Nameless Jedi]

To a Jedi, anger is painful. When ‘Emiliana’ felt it, it ached in her mind. As a Jedi it was her job – if not destiny – to try and free people of anger and hatred, forces which bound them to the path of the Darkside. Sadly, some were incurable as they had gone too far over the edge – but there was always hope for those just teetering on the edge of collapse.

The Jedi stepped out into the cold night, and saw the back of the leather jacket that Devin war, as it advanced away into the night. He was walking with unsure footing, and seemed as though at any minute he would fall – quite possibly resulting in his death, should a careless speeder drive not notice him.

“Devin!”

[Devin Ducat]

For a moment his brain congratulated him. She had followed him outside; ergo she was interested in him. Quickly however the synapses in his mind sent another impulse, that she was simply there to scold him for his actions inside of the bar. The two opinions collided and struggled for residence in his head as Devin himself replied, shakily:

“Yes?”

[Nameless Jedi]

It was literally impossible to distinguish what emotion Devin was feeling. All in one, a cocktail of anger, happiness, distaste and jealousy were radiating from his mind.

“You don’t want to hang about on roads like that,” she called out.

“It’ll end up getting you killed.”

With quick steps the Jedi moved herself forward and upon reaching Ducat outstretched a hand for his shoulder, as he had done in the bar.

[Devin Ducat]

“You don’t want to hang about on roads like that,”

Devin stopped, in mid step. His body slouched somewhat, relaxing as he stood in the middle of the road. His arms were crossed over his chest, and in his right hand he held the lead piping. His posture suggested the attitude of a portly drunk, who’d had perhaps one too many sips of the wine. His mind, however, suggested otherwise. It was a torrent of emotion, fuelled by the caged Brena.

For that was her location – locked inside his mind, and she was beginning to understand this. Somehow, when the Warlock had attacked them in the street, he had torn her spirit from her body and imbued it into her ex-husbands mind. The result of this was a combination of the two personalities, though it appeared that the Sorceress had a stronger effect upon Devin than his own mind did, however this was only at certain times – at points her voice was silenced, and his took control.

“It’ll end up getting you killed.”

Brena nodded slowly. Devin nodded slowly.

A hand touched against Devin’s shoulder, and Brena reacted. If she was going to be trapped here, she would not have Devin consorting with and unavoidably bedding people. Devin’s fingertips tested the lead of the pipe, squeezing it gently in his grasp.

Without so much as a second for the Jedi to gain knowledge of his, or her, intentions, Devin spun on his heel and struck out. The metal connected with the woman’s forehead, spilling out a crimson convulsion across her face. The spew of red veiled her vision, and the pain from the wound surge her forward into what would soon be unconsciousness.

Her body collapsed to the floor, and for good measure Devin gave her a solid kick in the side. Brena laughed through his lips and threw the pipe off to the side of the road, causing a clatter in the silence. A whimper came from the Jedi, who Devin knelt beside, at Brena’s command.

“It’ll end up getting you killed,” he mimicked as his hand was guided to her waist.

The lightsaber was still there, and he took up it with the smile of a child who had just received a new toy. Slipping it down into the pocket of his coat he backed away from the slumped body, leaving it in a pool of growing fluid.

“We’re in this together now.”

Continued in In the House of Flies (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=28257)