[font=arial" size="1] Just like that he snapped out of it. That passionate, overtaking anger. Every negative aspiration he had toward the female dwindled when that weakness flushed over her features. It ate away at him. He didn’t even realize what he was doing at the time. The possible damage that he was spreading throughout the female with his harsh actions. Gentleness was usually a foreign concept to the Mandalorian, who was all-too used to using force and violence to get what he wanted. With this female he would have to change that. If he pressed too hard with his normal ways then she would inevitably break, and it wouldn’t be into pieces that could be put back together. At this point, could he even save the situation? Were his actions able to be overwritten? It was unknown. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, in her body. The female was just barely clinging onto the fringes of consciousness, and it was likely only because the Mandalorian had forced her to do so. How cruel of him.
The entire time he had managed to keep his focus on the female, but the vision of his was tunneled. Maybe he did only see things the way he wanted to. Perhaps at a later date he could grow to understand this female better, to actually be civil with her. It was a desirable motive, but he questioned the possibility of it. Yet even in his fit of volcanic passion and anger he had noticed that one particular detail about the female; she never attempted to fight back by violent means. Had he overstepped boundaries? It was likely. Her assaults were moreso on the mind, like nails on a chalkboard. They nagged and pestered. In a way, Demagol and Rhailo were opposites. In another way, they were all too similar. That merciless attitude of his waned away and was replaced by empathy. Just before he was about to speak the Mandalorian peered down at his open hand and closed it into a fist. “.. Sleep, Rhailo. You need it.” He cut himself off from saying anything else, from attempting to twist those words into a sentence that made it sound like he needed her rested for his own purposes. No, he had already said too much. It was time to let silence embrace the two during those in between moments. It was all he could do for her right now.
Fingers unrolled from the palm and the fist was released, the hand sliding backward to Demagol as he turned his body and flattened himself back out on the bed. His words had ceased, but his thoughts had not. For some ungodly reason his past came back through his thoughts, like a tape recorder. People, countless people. All of the ones he had either killed or captured on a whim. Throughout all his days he had never paused to ask the story of any these people he hunted. He had never tried to understand them. In his code, they weren’t to be reasoned with. Their stories didn’t matter. They were simply pricetags, cash-in lottery tickets. But what if that was all wrong? What if he had been wrong all this time? Did that mean all of those people in question were good? No, it could never mean such. But there were always exceptions. Rhailo Destros could be such an exception, and Demagol would give her a chance to prove she was. For a woman who spoke so arrogantly all throughout the night and mission, Demagol had successfully broken her will. Weakness betrayed that female, though that was the Mandalorian’s plan all along. He won. But now he would have to build her back up. It was his responsibility. Fate had this tendency to work in cruel ways. There was always a light to be found if one was willing to search, though.
Outside the weather had begun to pick back up again, a rainstorm blowing inward upon the area. The sound of water droplets pocking against the roof and windows helped to ease that chaotic silence, to add a constant cadence to that emotional night mixed with turmoil. The bed was large enough for the two of them to have space between them, and Demagol in no way demanded the female to be against him by any means. She wanted space, he knew that. After everything he had just done he couldn’t blame her. Little regrets pinged at his heart and mind, one that for the longest time knew only of destruction. He didn’t face away from the female, but laid there completely flat on his back. One of his hands was drawn upward and placed underneath his head, the other on his stomach. A contemplative gaze was held on the ceiling above, a million thoughts accompanying that fogged-over look. When everything had been said and done, Demagol was pretty tuckered out himself. He had expended countless stores of physical energy to do everything he had done that day. All of the mental demand and stress just to chase this woman like an animal off its leash. That fight which had caused bruises to spawn along his muscled torso and which was responsible for the sealed gash that laced his side.
It was just another mark of his job, falling in line with several of the others which decorated his body.
An idle hand brought the covers up to his stomach but no further, leaving most of his upper half exposed. These motions were less calculated, made moreso with laziness and a mind too busy to concentrate. Was he tired? Probably not as tired as he should have been. That altercation he flared up earlier had caused every fiber in his body to come alive. It was like a waterfall of adrenaline accompanied by a bunch of incomprehensible emotions. A deep breath slowly vacuumed in only to be exhaled in the form of a sigh. What was he sighing for? Why was he so afraid to appear weak in front of this woman? Because he was her captor–her owner? It was probably because their lives held in the balance of his decisions. Weak minds made more mistakes. Mistakes caused needless death. So many whys. So many questions in general. Was he afraid? What was there to possibly be afraid of? The Roth Khaanians? They were busy with the S'zari. Would the S'zari want him to atone for how he took the female to himself? It was a possibility, but they too, would be busy with their syndicate counter part. Maybe it was just because Rhailo and him weren’t off this dreadful planet yet. He wanted to think that things would get substantially better once that was accomplished. He had a personal frigate in cruise past the planet’s gravity well. It would come in upon calculated coordinates when Demagol uplinked them.
Yet even with all of these plans in thought and motion he could not take his mind off of Rhailo Destros. Why did he have so much interest in her? Part of him wanted to think he could answer such a question, but the reality of the matter was that he didn’t know. There was just something about her. It sounded selfish of him. It probably was selfish of him. Even in his wrongs he had made the decision though, and now he would have to make the best of it. A combination of two words floated at the back of his mind, a combo that he almost never uttered to begin with. Yet there they hung, foreboding, stubbornly. Should he even say them? The female likely wouldn’t even notice. She resented him. He saw it in her eyes, that terrified expression, that narrowed gaze. She had every right to, which is why he didn’t try to patronize her. No matter how dismal things seemed those two words still remained, digging closer to the front of Demagol’s mind. He couldn’t hold them back, like there was a knot in his chest which would clot if he refused. They transferred to his lips and his voice, which uttered almost inaudibly in the near-silence of that room. Regardless of how she perceived it he would say it anyway. It was necessary, it was needed. He was not a robot. He was human. Lips parted in an usher.
“I’m sorry..”
The entire time he had managed to keep his focus on the female, but the vision of his was tunneled. Maybe he did only see things the way he wanted to. Perhaps at a later date he could grow to understand this female better, to actually be civil with her. It was a desirable motive, but he questioned the possibility of it. Yet even in his fit of volcanic passion and anger he had noticed that one particular detail about the female; she never attempted to fight back by violent means. Had he overstepped boundaries? It was likely. Her assaults were moreso on the mind, like nails on a chalkboard. They nagged and pestered. In a way, Demagol and Rhailo were opposites. In another way, they were all too similar. That merciless attitude of his waned away and was replaced by empathy. Just before he was about to speak the Mandalorian peered down at his open hand and closed it into a fist. “.. Sleep, Rhailo. You need it.” He cut himself off from saying anything else, from attempting to twist those words into a sentence that made it sound like he needed her rested for his own purposes. No, he had already said too much. It was time to let silence embrace the two during those in between moments. It was all he could do for her right now.
Fingers unrolled from the palm and the fist was released, the hand sliding backward to Demagol as he turned his body and flattened himself back out on the bed. His words had ceased, but his thoughts had not. For some ungodly reason his past came back through his thoughts, like a tape recorder. People, countless people. All of the ones he had either killed or captured on a whim. Throughout all his days he had never paused to ask the story of any these people he hunted. He had never tried to understand them. In his code, they weren’t to be reasoned with. Their stories didn’t matter. They were simply pricetags, cash-in lottery tickets. But what if that was all wrong? What if he had been wrong all this time? Did that mean all of those people in question were good? No, it could never mean such. But there were always exceptions. Rhailo Destros could be such an exception, and Demagol would give her a chance to prove she was. For a woman who spoke so arrogantly all throughout the night and mission, Demagol had successfully broken her will. Weakness betrayed that female, though that was the Mandalorian’s plan all along. He won. But now he would have to build her back up. It was his responsibility. Fate had this tendency to work in cruel ways. There was always a light to be found if one was willing to search, though.
Outside the weather had begun to pick back up again, a rainstorm blowing inward upon the area. The sound of water droplets pocking against the roof and windows helped to ease that chaotic silence, to add a constant cadence to that emotional night mixed with turmoil. The bed was large enough for the two of them to have space between them, and Demagol in no way demanded the female to be against him by any means. She wanted space, he knew that. After everything he had just done he couldn’t blame her. Little regrets pinged at his heart and mind, one that for the longest time knew only of destruction. He didn’t face away from the female, but laid there completely flat on his back. One of his hands was drawn upward and placed underneath his head, the other on his stomach. A contemplative gaze was held on the ceiling above, a million thoughts accompanying that fogged-over look. When everything had been said and done, Demagol was pretty tuckered out himself. He had expended countless stores of physical energy to do everything he had done that day. All of the mental demand and stress just to chase this woman like an animal off its leash. That fight which had caused bruises to spawn along his muscled torso and which was responsible for the sealed gash that laced his side.
It was just another mark of his job, falling in line with several of the others which decorated his body.
An idle hand brought the covers up to his stomach but no further, leaving most of his upper half exposed. These motions were less calculated, made moreso with laziness and a mind too busy to concentrate. Was he tired? Probably not as tired as he should have been. That altercation he flared up earlier had caused every fiber in his body to come alive. It was like a waterfall of adrenaline accompanied by a bunch of incomprehensible emotions. A deep breath slowly vacuumed in only to be exhaled in the form of a sigh. What was he sighing for? Why was he so afraid to appear weak in front of this woman? Because he was her captor–her owner? It was probably because their lives held in the balance of his decisions. Weak minds made more mistakes. Mistakes caused needless death. So many whys. So many questions in general. Was he afraid? What was there to possibly be afraid of? The Roth Khaanians? They were busy with the S'zari. Would the S'zari want him to atone for how he took the female to himself? It was a possibility, but they too, would be busy with their syndicate counter part. Maybe it was just because Rhailo and him weren’t off this dreadful planet yet. He wanted to think that things would get substantially better once that was accomplished. He had a personal frigate in cruise past the planet’s gravity well. It would come in upon calculated coordinates when Demagol uplinked them.
Yet even with all of these plans in thought and motion he could not take his mind off of Rhailo Destros. Why did he have so much interest in her? Part of him wanted to think he could answer such a question, but the reality of the matter was that he didn’t know. There was just something about her. It sounded selfish of him. It probably was selfish of him. Even in his wrongs he had made the decision though, and now he would have to make the best of it. A combination of two words floated at the back of his mind, a combo that he almost never uttered to begin with. Yet there they hung, foreboding, stubbornly. Should he even say them? The female likely wouldn’t even notice. She resented him. He saw it in her eyes, that terrified expression, that narrowed gaze. She had every right to, which is why he didn’t try to patronize her. No matter how dismal things seemed those two words still remained, digging closer to the front of Demagol’s mind. He couldn’t hold them back, like there was a knot in his chest which would clot if he refused. They transferred to his lips and his voice, which uttered almost inaudibly in the near-silence of that room. Regardless of how she perceived it he would say it anyway. It was necessary, it was needed. He was not a robot. He was human. Lips parted in an usher.
“I’m sorry..”
Forever?
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
The following 1 user Likes deific's post: Kat
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:27 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:30 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:38 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:40 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:41 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:42 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:44 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:46 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:47 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:49 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:50 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:54 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:55 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:56 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:58 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:59 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:00 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:01 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:02 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:04 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:05 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:09 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:10 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:15 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:17 AM