Selinica Miriya
Sep 12th, 2015, 03:05:55 AM
Of mistakes, she had made several. How many times had she been dragged out of a mess of her own making by those still foolish enough to care? Rhuan, oh how he would be disappointed, she knew, were he still living and breathing, but she'd been complicit in the act which ended that for him, and he was the only other conspirator. It was his idea, and no part of her regretted going through with the slitting of his wrists as per his instructions than the part that craved his guidance when all seemed lost, when life looked bleak, one way or another. It had turned into a prayer, an unintentional idolization of the man that had in several definitions raised her and mentored her. The first and only one to which she had attributed affection that was beyond that of a child for a parent, a friend for a friend, and it was unrequited in the ways that her teenaged mind had desired. Only as the years wound on and on had she been able to see, one, maybe two snippets at a time, that he had felt this in his own way. Hindsight, to paraphrase, is the sharpest of all; she grieved anew at each instance.
This was the way her mind turned as without the drink for numbing, a depression fathoms-deep came to the surface as the very cause of the way her life had been lived since leaving the world she once called home, at the age of eighteen. There was a searing clarity, in addition, that seemingly only served to tell her in no uncertain terms that she was damn well lucky to be alive at all.
She sat numb when the line was drawn and Corellia ended up on the wrong side of it; she watched numbly when the landscape shifted around her and people flocked in what seemed to her like droves to abandon the Alliance and 'express' their love for that one world in countless billions across the galaxy. Pins and needles pricked at the depths of her when the first great act of terrorism tolled a loss of life there, and she again found the ability to shed a tear and then wave after wave of tears when the news came that her parents had been among the dead. Her parents, from whom she had been estranged; only when she had begun to contemplate the eventual possibility of reconciliation was the chance lost forever.
All of this lead to one evening in which she could be found tilted against a wall across the way from the entrance to a cantina and fighting the urge to cross and go in, because it wasn't that she wanted to, she had made it this long without... rather, it was because she didn't know what else to do.
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OOC Note: This could be anywhere. A planet, a ship, wherever. I've lost track of where this gal is or where she's supposed to be, I felt like writing her, and the way I write her has changed considerably since the last time I wrote her here, around three years ago.
This was the way her mind turned as without the drink for numbing, a depression fathoms-deep came to the surface as the very cause of the way her life had been lived since leaving the world she once called home, at the age of eighteen. There was a searing clarity, in addition, that seemingly only served to tell her in no uncertain terms that she was damn well lucky to be alive at all.
She sat numb when the line was drawn and Corellia ended up on the wrong side of it; she watched numbly when the landscape shifted around her and people flocked in what seemed to her like droves to abandon the Alliance and 'express' their love for that one world in countless billions across the galaxy. Pins and needles pricked at the depths of her when the first great act of terrorism tolled a loss of life there, and she again found the ability to shed a tear and then wave after wave of tears when the news came that her parents had been among the dead. Her parents, from whom she had been estranged; only when she had begun to contemplate the eventual possibility of reconciliation was the chance lost forever.
All of this lead to one evening in which she could be found tilted against a wall across the way from the entrance to a cantina and fighting the urge to cross and go in, because it wasn't that she wanted to, she had made it this long without... rather, it was because she didn't know what else to do.
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OOC Note: This could be anywhere. A planet, a ship, wherever. I've lost track of where this gal is or where she's supposed to be, I felt like writing her, and the way I write her has changed considerably since the last time I wrote her here, around three years ago.