Flashes of past
and betraying mind,
An unknown future
with unchecked time
a pressing weight of uncertainties
in promises made wholeheartedly.
A long kept Memory pressing down,
the fear growing without a sound
alethophobia and biting tongue
The 'almost' in hoping of dying young.
For so did the hourglass sand stop,
a cut thread to end the time.
the flash of life to be ripped away,
and take what once was mine.
Mortality and love, swift as a falling feather.
regrets of things I can now never say,
for not rushing what would've been forever.
But when the Fates deem my time is up,
and my clock winds down to zero...
I'll come for you as you o
Cjarsa was drunk again.
Not surprised in the slightest, Etain took the empty Survapierre bottle and went outside. The heat shot to her core instantly, and slick sweat soon covered any exposed skin and sunk in anywhere else. Tatooine was beautiful, in its own way, and the Dune Sea had a special appeal to her. Her mother, now passed out over the table, had exiled herself a long time ago....bringing her daughter with her.
Etain didn't like remembering why.
Shaking her head free of the memories before they rooted, she threw the bottle as hard as she could and swung up a Tusken-liberated rifle. It was the only weapon she had any sort of talent wi
A touch of mind
did act which give,
of yours toward me
of rare relive.
A spark of ache
in empty heart,
your presence gave
upon depart.
A virgin regard
I dare not name,
Enigma--late blooming
revealing my shame.
A secret life
do mine eyes behold,
what they bear witness
do my lips withhold.
A burden, yet free
of mortal trials,
to watch removed
of conscious wiles.
An imitation mirror
no essence of own,
Yet how did I give
a heart of stone...?
How did she get here...? The 8 year old girl was bent over in the cargo bay of a ship bound for Hutta. She was to be sold apparently, and she found herself petrified at the idea. Young, yes, but not stupid. She knew what happened to attractive slaves. In fact she was quite brilliant, but that's what landed her here in the first place more or less. The pair of Rodians that now furiously piloted the ship had tricked her mother into giving them her life savings. Etain did not like that one bit, and had found them. Everyone left a trail. It had not been hard for a mind like hers to slice into their computers and take everything. And just like tha
The cold was nothing now. It was a watchful friend. A protective mother. Laaran breathed in the chilled air, covered from head to toe in white fur. Her Echani white hair and pale skin made her nigh invisible, and creeping up on the hunter was easy. Yet another blizzard whipped the terrain, and this man had been unlucky enough to be caught in it. Probably a pirate, and Laaran had no qualms on killing them or any other....besides he had a nice looking gun. Would make things easier for her, as the old blaster in her hand showed just how long she'd been alone.
How old was she now?
The thought gave her pause. She had stopped keeping track, but
The cold was biting. It was the kind of chill that froze spit the moment it left the mouth. But this didn't stop two young girls from weaving through the caravan, tossing snow at each other. Their mandalorian kin paved the way as they had their fun, casting wary eyes over the landscape through t-shaped visors. Hoth was dangerous after all, and not just because of the sub-zero temperatures and nearly constant blizzards. The local wildlife blended into the flurries of white, and they had already lost a few to the opportunistic whitefangs.
Bundled against the cold but not much else, the caravan didn't stand a chance against the dar'jetii that
Flashes of past
and betraying mind,
An unknown future
with unchecked time
a pressing weight of uncertainties
in promises made wholeheartedly.
A long kept Memory pressing down,
the fear growing without a sound
alethophobia and biting tongue
The 'almost' in hoping of dying young.
For so did the hourglass sand stop,
a cut thread to end the time.
the flash of life to be ripped away,
and take what once was mine.
Mortality and love, swift as a falling feather.
regrets of things I can now never say,
for not rushing what would've been forever.
But when the Fates deem my time is up,
and my clock winds down to zero...
I'll come for you as you o
Cjarsa was drunk again.
Not surprised in the slightest, Etain took the empty Survapierre bottle and went outside. The heat shot to her core instantly, and slick sweat soon covered any exposed skin and sunk in anywhere else. Tatooine was beautiful, in its own way, and the Dune Sea had a special appeal to her. Her mother, now passed out over the table, had exiled herself a long time ago....bringing her daughter with her.
Etain didn't like remembering why.
Shaking her head free of the memories before they rooted, she threw the bottle as hard as she could and swung up a Tusken-liberated rifle. It was the only weapon she had any sort of talent wi
A touch of mind
did act which give,
of yours toward me
of rare relive.
A spark of ache
in empty heart,
your presence gave
upon depart.
A virgin regard
I dare not name,
Enigma--late blooming
revealing my shame.
A secret life
do mine eyes behold,
what they bear witness
do my lips withhold.
A burden, yet free
of mortal trials,
to watch removed
of conscious wiles.
An imitation mirror
no essence of own,
Yet how did I give
a heart of stone...?
How did she get here...? The 8 year old girl was bent over in the cargo bay of a ship bound for Hutta. She was to be sold apparently, and she found herself petrified at the idea. Young, yes, but not stupid. She knew what happened to attractive slaves. In fact she was quite brilliant, but that's what landed her here in the first place more or less. The pair of Rodians that now furiously piloted the ship had tricked her mother into giving them her life savings. Etain did not like that one bit, and had found them. Everyone left a trail. It had not been hard for a mind like hers to slice into their computers and take everything. And just like tha
The cold was nothing now. It was a watchful friend. A protective mother. Laaran breathed in the chilled air, covered from head to toe in white fur. Her Echani white hair and pale skin made her nigh invisible, and creeping up on the hunter was easy. Yet another blizzard whipped the terrain, and this man had been unlucky enough to be caught in it. Probably a pirate, and Laaran had no qualms on killing them or any other....besides he had a nice looking gun. Would make things easier for her, as the old blaster in her hand showed just how long she'd been alone.
How old was she now?
The thought gave her pause. She had stopped keeping track, but
The cold was biting. It was the kind of chill that froze spit the moment it left the mouth. But this didn't stop two young girls from weaving through the caravan, tossing snow at each other. Their mandalorian kin paved the way as they had their fun, casting wary eyes over the landscape through t-shaped visors. Hoth was dangerous after all, and not just because of the sub-zero temperatures and nearly constant blizzards. The local wildlife blended into the flurries of white, and they had already lost a few to the opportunistic whitefangs.
Bundled against the cold but not much else, the caravan didn't stand a chance against the dar'jetii that