Absolution

[Keagle]

A gentle cawing echoed through the sky, bouncing effortlessly off of the nothing that filled the space between Keagle and the horizon. Green fields served as a platform for the sun to leap from on this beautiful morning, and he stood, watching it rise in complete silence. Like a lover's breath, throwing beauty to each and every cloud in the sky, the sun first met Tom's eyeline, and then continued upwards, until it marked the coming of mid-day. Still he stood, staring ahead. Unmoving, and without a single word. Almost without a single breath.

Anyone who had seen him would have either stared or run. Naked as the day he was born, the twenty-something year old showed off every inch of his muscular body. His eyes blazed, like two fragments of the sky itself trapped within his head. His hair (straight, and dark brown - an incredible contrast to his startlingly light blue eyes), peaked upon his head in several places, the messy effect matching his stubble with deadly accuracy. Here was a man who had never slept in his life. Yet, as wild as he would have seemed to any onlooker, he knew he wasn't there. He was dead inside since the minute his lover was stolen from him.

He had not even seen Jezebella die. All he felt of the event was a scream through the Force, penetrating his mind and killing him immediately.

And then he was here.

The sun was directly overhead now, and as if on cue, the figure began to sway slightly in the wind. His eyes flickered around, as if he was slowly coming to life, but in fact rather the opposite happened; he dropped to the floor with a muffled thud.

"Jezebella..."

[Jezebella Shadana]

He hadn't been there for a long time. That man she had fallen in love with in her dreams. Suddenly, he had just disappeared as if he had been ripped from the dream-world. It was hard to swallow the feelings she had begun to feel toward the man, but it was silly when she thought about it; falling in love with one's dream like some wide-eyed child who still believes in unpractical things. Her dreams had been so empty without him, soon she had just stopped sleeping. With him gone, there seemed no point.

Of course you would never hear Jezebella admit that she had fallen in love with someone whom didn't exist, let alone fall in love at all. She strove to convince the universe, as such, that she was some being that simply couldn't be touched by love. So, keeping her intentions masked to those she knew, she left early one morning and decided to journey until she found something else to dream about.

She was about to give up and go home, approximately a week later, when an almost profound sense of familiarity struck her and drove her to continue. Planet by planet, she searched for the answer, planet after planet was a wasted attempt. Until...

Departing from her ship, Jezebella brought her hand up to shield the intense blaze of the sun beaming down upon her from above. The planet, though seemingly unruled by the galaxy's most notorious forces, called to her, oddly. And thus, she set out into the vast scape. One particular morning, she discovered someone. Someone whom had haunted her. Someone whom she never imagined she'd see again.

You.. I must be dreaming...

Kneeling down next to the man's slumped, unclothed form, Jez placed a gloved hand upon his shoulder and stared down at him intently.

'Tom...?'

[Keagle]

The man she saw was far from the one she would remember. A week had passed since Keagle had found himself here - a week of cold nights and unbearably bright days. The very light irritated him; nomatter whether he closed his eyes, or shielded them with his arm, it always found a way into his vision. He just wanted to roll over and die. Without Jezebella, life wasn't worth it, he just didn't care for life anymore. Yet somehow, he had survived a full week. His skin was red and peeling, his lips dry and cracked. There were patches of dry blood around his nose and mouth, yet there was no sign of the waste a man would usually produce in seven days, quite simply because there was never anything to pass through him in the first place. This body was miraculously empty of all food.

He didn't dare believe what he had heard. Just another trick of his senses, teasing him, trying to trick him into holiding on for just a while longer. He knew it couldn't be true; he knew Jezebella was dead. When he was dead too, he could meet her. He could be with her forever when the damned light would stop shining.

[Jezebella Shadana]

'Sir..?

No answer.

The empty shell of the man simple lay there, unmoving, life simply drained from ever quarter of his hollow being. Normally, Jez would have up and left had it been any other man, but then again, this was the twin soul of the man she had met in her dreams. He wouldn't even answer her.

Sighing softly, Jez wrapped her arms around his waist and made for her ship. He didn't protest as he was dragged away, which, at this point, didn't surprise her in the least. It was as if he was dead. But where had he come from? Why was he like this? Who did this to him? Questions that could not be answered unless she got him to talk to her.

She felt odd, dragging the unclothed man all the way to her ship, but it wasn't like she had anything to spare. She didn't bring much to begin with. Upon reaching her ship, she slunk into the refresher and sat him down, retrieving some cleaning towels. Kneeling beside him, she set to work, washing him off and making him appear as he had in the midst of her dreams.

[Keagle]

He blinked. This time it was over, his eyes wouldn't open. He would just be allowed to waste away and die, to end his suffering.

His eyes opened.

Life was too confusing for him to comprehend what he was seeing. The young woman had picked him up, taken him to her ship, and begun to clean him. That much he could decipher from the images being thrown back and forth across his eyes, but there was one thing he knew beyong doubt was not true. When the woman had first come to him, he could have sworn without a doubt that she was Jezebella Shadana, his lover, whom he had seen die just before being thrown into this field.

He looked down to the sponge she held, being pressed gently against a sore which had developed on his side. He had barely noticed that he had been lying on a rock; the pain had just melted away with the rest of his torment. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask her why she was helping him, but he couldn't. If he spoke he would be prolonging the inevitable - it was far easier to just close his eyes and die in silence.

"..."

[Jezebella Shadana]

It was as if he wanted to say something but didn't have the will to do so. Maybe he was just thirsty. Rising slowly, as not to startle him, Jezebella moved back through the ship quickly and found a fresh water bottle. Returning a moment after, Jez knelt back down beside him and gazed up into his washed face. It was surprising what benefit a little soap and water had on human skin.

Twisting the cap off of the bottle, she leaned forward slightly and caressed his chin, coaxing him to open his mouth,'Your body is so dry. You really should drink all of this.' Her other hand rose slowly, bracing against his shoulder gingerly.

[Keagle]

He turned his head, offering a frail resistance to her fingers. He had barely thought about eating or drinking in the past week; the only ways it had passed his mind had been in the context of never letting either pass his lips again. A slow, saddening suicide was all he could hope to achieve, and he would not go through this again. He would not give in to this eternity alone.

He looked away for a moment, considering his situation. He could barely bring himself to look this woman in the face; her beauty and resemblance to his lost lover only stoked his grief. Yet somehow, he did. As if his head weighed more than a thousand tons, his face turned to her, reluctantly setting his greying eyes on her own. His eyes welled, his lip quivered, but still no sound came from him.

"Jezebella..." He couldn't bring himself to speak. The first word he uttered in days was through the force, no more than a gasp from his mind to hers. "Is it you?"

[Jezebella Shadana]

Yes.. it's me.

Her words to were but a whispered parted from her mind to his own through the intricate waves of the force that balanced between the Ghoul and the once inanimate man that had haunted her dreams. He remembered her. Was it possible? He certainly knew her first name, and yet he spoke it with such uncertainty that she wasn't sure if she was one in the same as though he was talking to a ghost trapped within the shell of her being.

'Why are.. you so.. different..?' She whispered, the question posed mostly toward herself than to the man.

[Keagle]

"You..." His hand raised, and the strength it took him was evident across every inch of his body. He tensed, his face curling into a grimace that caused the first of his tears to drop, and rested his palm against her cheek. She felt so real, so alive, but there was something so different. He was so finely attuned to the force presence of his lover, that everything about this woman was so alien to him, even if she looked the same.

"You died. I saw it happen."

[Jezebella Shadana]

He was either delusional or she was definately not the person he thought she was. She didn't recall dying recently, except. There had been that one dream, of course. It had been horrid. Her sister, Razielle, had come with a pack of Sith to destroy her and Tom, though she wasn't aware of introducing the two.

In the end, the lovers had faced certain peril, though she could exactly remember seeing the end of Tom, she did, however, remember the lack of dreams that soon followed afterward. It was surprising that she hadn't realized it before.

'I'm here. I'm alive, obviously what you saw was not real.'

[Keagle]

"You're not the one I love." His words blunt, but true. He could feel how different she was, and that was made him feel as if his heart was being wrenched from his chest. Not only had he watched Jezebella die, but he was being tormented with a woman who was the spitting image of her in every way. The only real difference - the only one that mattered - was that it was not her.

He dropped his hand, brushing it lightly across her chest as he did so. He had a sudden pang to hug this woman, to make her the one he loved - but it could not be done. He merely turned his head to one side, and spoke once more through her mind.

"Let me die."

[Jezebella Shadana]

The words stung, for some reason, though Jezebella would never let a soul know. Foolish of her to think that he could ever mistake her as the one he once loved, or the frail person he might have met some odd nights in the park. He looked away, as did she and a sigh escaped past her lips as his hand gently whisped across her chest.

You want to be with her. She thought to herself, glancing back up at him for a moment. She could never admit to ever feeling the same way about a particular person, having had one hell of a childhood, Jezebella had learned to cope with losing those she loved, if one would call such affections that.

'I can't do that.'

[Keagle]

"Why?"

Again he turned to her, his faded blue eyes beginning to burn with a desperate intensity.

"Why must you put me through this?"

[Jezebella Shadana]

'Because...' She started, pondering why indeed she wanted to go against this man's wishes and help him. It was obvious he didn't want her help, or anything to do with her for that matter. She was beginning to think this man was just a familiar face lacking the spirit of her beloved dream.

'I want you to see that it is possible to go on, even if you don't want to.' Jez gritted her teeth together and scowled. That was a poor reason.

[Keagle]

"No."

The force of this place was different, somehow. His talents felt raw again; untrained - yet somehow, he could still sense this womans emotions. As if the bond between him and Jezebella still existed. Frail as it may be, he could feel this woman's mind in his own - and they fit together with disgusting perfection. He was abusing Jezebella's memory. If he didn't die, he knew what would happen. He would love the woman before him. He turned his head back slowly to face her, and sighed silently, his breath not even approaching anything that could be considered a voice.

"You want me to stay. You want me to stay with you."

[Jezebella Shadana]

'Maybe I do..' She replied softly, looking away from him. Were her emotions so frighteningly bare before him? Had she become easy to read like some love sick sop? She didn't like it, nor would she stand for it. If he wanted to leave she would let him go and she never look back, she thought fiercely. She wouldn't become a victim of love, affection, or the like.

'But I can't make you do anything. If you'd like to be dropped of somewhere...' She sucked in her breath, finding it painfully hard to talk as if nothing mattered to her,'I'd be... happy to oblige.'

[Keagle]

"You deny me the one thing I ask for. Why bother?"

For a moment he remained mostly expressionless, the same mournful look in his eyes, yet inside he was being ripped to shreds. Her amber eyes. Just like hers. He would have to do it; it was so easy.

Reaching out with one arm, he placed it softly begind her neck, and bowed forward. Falling against her, he began to sob softly, his tears dropping against her chest.

[Jezebella Shadana]

For a woman who didn't care much about anything, Jezebella was at quite a loss. She knew that any normal, caring person would cuddle and comfort the forlorn man, but Jez was by no means normal. But wasn't this the man she loved..? Did she even understand the terms for such affection? She never would, but she didn't need to to comprehend that he was torn by the parting of his now dead lover.

'I don't know..' She stated, wrapping her arms about his back. This was no embrace of a lover, but the comforting hug of a new friend that didn't quite understand the means of his sadness, but knew what it was doing to him.

Laying her head on his shoulder, Jez smiled sadly and listened quietly for the beating of his animated heart.

[Keagle]

Composing himself with worrying speed, the man pawed the back of his hand against an eye, brushing the tears from his cheek. Again he turned his face to one side, straightening away from Jezebella. Far from as he expected, her touch maddened him with grief, and after a few moments of her embrace he was filled with nothing but guilt. He opened his mouth to mutter a few words to her, but again opted to speak through the Force:

"Please... I think I need a hospital."

In truth, he merely wanted this woman to begin the take-of of this ship, and be away from him. In time, he was sure he would not resent her, but now a glimpse of her face was equivalent to a punch to the gut.

[Jezebella Shadana]

What you need is a wake up to reality call...

Jezebella suddenly was struck with an annoyance aimed toward this man, though her thoughts remained unheard. She was allowing herself to sink down to a shallow level of uncontrolled emotion, toward a man that hardly felt the same about her. Hell, the once untamed murdering Ghoul had turned into a pitying blossom of hugging and comfort.

A hospital. Well, wherever the ship's navigation took her, she would leave him. She didn't need to be dragged down by his overpowering saddness toward the loss of his lover, nor did she need to drag him down with her stupidly open emotional self.

Snapping away from him violently, her expression returning to its normally cold and stoney appearance, she nodded in conformation of his request and left him there. The ship took off a short while later, placed on autopliot in mode of piloting to the nearest hospital. This is not how he is suppose to be.

[Keagle]

He looked at the water bottle, placed teasingly beside him on a table. Any man this thirsty would have literally thrown the contents of the bottle at their mouths, gasping for the liquid. Keagle was not any man. He was as stubborn about ending his own life as he was about everything, he would not let himself drink that water. Raising a hand feebly in its direction, he let out a short force-blast, doing his best to knock it onto the floor of the cabin and out of view. He frowned, puzzled. Nothing happened; no ripple of distortion around his fingers, not even the slightest sense that he had used the telekinesis which had been coming to him so naturally for so long. There was clearly something different about the Force here.

He glanced grimly in Jezebella's direction. The woman seemed resenful of him, but looking over his actions since she had found him it was hardly suprising. He had been less than thankful that she had bothered to save his life.

"Thankyou for trying, Jez. I mean that. I'm sorry that I can't just let you help me."