(( Original Poster on RoH Side: Fourth ))
Edited from live play.
The ties that bound one another together seemed rooted in the heart, though Melanie's connection to those she cared for was born within the fractured microplanes of her skewed perspective. Where a human saw the now, Melanie saw the here as if looking through the facets of countless diamonds, each face different, each face seemingly random. Years worth of labor, hidden practice and silent suffering, had given her some measure of control. It was through these strange senses that she discerned, upon mounting the porch, that Terry was at home. Melanie hadn't been at home last night, nor had her phone been turned on. In fact, the device was inert and had been left atop the table found in the foyer. When she breezed through the door, she might have seemed more exotic than before. She'd been home, or as close as she could have been. Rather than dressing like the urbane siren she so typically was. Melanie's clothing was that of desert born royalty, black silk, elegant in it's simplicity. Flowing pants, loose and seemingly flimsy, were near hidden under a split tunic of the same color and the same cloth. Ballet slippers, or so it might have looked, graced delicate, dangerous feet. As she rounded the door, she did so quietly, but with an obvious sense of annoyance and confusion. Though she knew Terry was here, she knew not where, nor did she know the mood she'd find her counterpart in. Perhaps she'd been seeking privacy after the court date? Rather than force her way into the world around her, she paused in the kitchen and lifted her voice into a sibilant rendition of, "You're around, yeah?
"Not too loud." Came the sound of Terry's voice some moments later as she came down the stairs. "Mary's got classes in the morning." School had started this past Monday. While Terry missed taking the child to school for her first day, she had picked her up after it was over. "Was jus' stitchin' her name into her uniforms." Which was why a few of her fingers had already held bandages; it seemed she couldn't help but stick herself with a needle with her fumble fingers. Terry had still been dressed in a tracksuit -- it seemed she hadn't changed out of her own work wear. Going from court earlier this week to right back to work; life didn't seem to stop for anything. The jacket had been removed though, so that left her in a simple long sleeve top. She looked tired. "Welcome home." Conflicted thoughts of what happened earlier in the week wouldn't stop her from offering Melanie a smile. "I was worried that you didn't have your phone."
"Do you know how to sew?" Melanie was, before she had been anything else, a soldier. Trained to survive where death ruled, trained to conquer when cut off and thrive where only the heroes walked, she had been built to exist entirely on her own. Therefore, she could sew in a rudimentary manner. It wasn't pretty, but she was able to fix a tear and mend a rip with some skill. She, as well, seemed exhausted, exhausted, angry, fatigued and broken down in a manner so few had ever seen her. The clothing was another rare form of her being, almost ceremonial. "Yeah, it's right there." She pointed down, the black object rested still and silent. All of the sudden, maybe due to the days spent away or the small amount of empathy Melanie laid claim to, she danced within Terry's grasp and drew the other, voluntarily or not, into a close, warm embrace. "I went home, sort of. Or at least close to where my home was. How was court?" Mary was still here, so it obviously couldn't have went that poorly.
"You kinda' have to learn.. I wore a lotta' hand me downs 'n stuff when I was younger. Mom taught me a few things." It was one of the memories she enjoyed; her mother showing her how to stitch. Sure, Terry stuck herself more than normal, but she kept up with it and could easily mend clothing to the point of looking `okayish`, or at least not so visable by the naked eye. She'd never get a job in the department though. She had seen the phone upon her return, so she had known it wasn't taken. Terry hadn't expected the sudden embrace and found herself surprised within Melanie's arms. Her own rose soon enough to hang about the Mandalorian's waist. "Fine.. Things got a little rough," She wondered if she should go into detail. The urge to bite back and keep it within had been there. Not for Melanie's benefit, but more so for her own. "It's hard listenin' to the bad parts of your past bein' brought up.." She'd then shake her head. "You went into space?" Curious.
"Well, that makes sense, I guess." She'd not thought of it that way. She'd been the elite, the point of her people's spear. Her word, inside and outside, when at home had been a law few dared to even consider questioning. When she needed something, it was provided, when she asked, she was served. All because of what she was and all because of what Terry swore she was not. Her people valued bravery and courage, she had that in spades. Her people valued skill and prowess, they worshipped weapons. She, through her blood and her destiny, was the final edge on a martial machine's long reaching blade. When Terry spoke, she understood instantly. Her sins were aired in the depths of her mind on a day to day basis, more so now than ever before. While she didn't pry, she leaned her cheek against Terry's own and murmured a soft, "I won't ask if you don't want to tell, but if you ever do..." She left it at that, a quiet promise fit for the half light of a private moment. Compassionate she was not, she rarely cared. But for this one? She'd tear a star down from the night's hand and lay it at her feet, should there be a need. When asked, she withdrew slightly, her hands loosely on Terry's shoulders, and shrugged. It seemed as if they both didn't want to speak, or couldn't just yet. "Close enough, yes. Things like....uh..." She faltered on the words, these were not things spoken of often. "distance and even time, reality I guess, don't really matter much to me. If I need to somewhere, I can normally get close enough. So, yeah. They called me home and I went, hence the clothes." At least she'd taken the blood spattered armor off and left it in the garage.
"Thanks." Quiet. A single word. But there had been some sort of feeling behind it. Thankful for the woman's understanding. When Melanie pulled away, Terry's arms would extended some to allow for it. Hands now on the woman's waist, though one did rise to feel at the fabric which adorned the others flesh. "You look nice." An idle observation. "Is this what they wear on your home?" Her vision rose from the fabric so that she could look to those dark eyes. It was only a glance though and instead fell to the side. "This is your home too though, you know.. How was it? Did anything happen that I should know about?" The glance returned.
Melanie didn't expect to hear it, not tonight. Sometimes, however, she felt that it was better to offer nothing more than the simple words of acceptance that showed another's willingness to listen, to try to understand. She knew Terry well, she understood the other's hesitance to step into anything quickly. As she pulled away fully, she instinctively smoothed the mark of her station. Centered on the front of the black tunic was, of course, her people's horrid skull, a picture stitched in white and grey. "No, not really. It's sort of a mark of station? I can wear it because I don't need my armor to defend myself, you know? It's a constant reminder, a few people in normal clothes around an entire legion armed and armored. By saying that I don't need it, I'm essentially daring anyone to, I guess, challenge me?" It most likely didn't make sense. As she toyed with the fringes of her clothing, she shrugged and took a moment to compose herself. "More lies, yeah?" Her eyes were wide, her expression volatile and almost, almost unhinged. "I thought they were all dead, yeah? My son, his father, my family. Fabricated, just so I'd hate more. We trade hate for power, yeah? Turns out they're not. They, well...." She paused her, feet scuffing the ground. "Think I should go back. Trying to force me back didn't work, so they are asking now. I guess they think that's a better idea."
"You're asking for trouble, but I'm glad you didn't get into any." At least it didn't sound like she did. "I mean, I guess it would clash with whatever I'd wear if we went walkin' about." An attempt to find some silliness -- an attempt to bring humor, but the way she said it, it might come across a little harder to pull off. Even more when she found herself silenced by the discovery Melanie spoke of. Her expression fell, it mixed well with the look of surprise that crept along soon after. "That's good.." that's a lie.. She felt guilty for thinking any different. In reality, it was like another rock being thrown through a broken window. ".. I mean, that they are alive." She swallowed back then, nervously. Her hands, unsure what to do with them, slipped into the pockets of her pants. "What're you going to do then?"
"I'd have to go alone, Terry." She did not have pockets, but her arms folded across the flowing material that covered her chest, effectively hiding the symbol she once wore with such pride. "My people, Terry, despise the existence of other humans who won't join us. We kill them if they don't. You're a human." She thought the point was clear, but there could be no assumption when the matter was of this much importance. "As in, they'd see you as unclean, unpure. I'd not allow you to take the oaths, so it'd me leaving, not me and you." She didn't give the matter much thought, nor did she bother with allowing time for doubts to form. "I'm a weapon, sweetheart. You told me I'm not, but you're wrong. That's all I can be for them. They asked me to choose, this world or my own. A fighter here, your lover here, a friend to some people here or royalty there, a killer there." She didn't quite smile but her voice held some measure of mirthless humor. "And while I gave it some thought, I couldn't help it..." It'd been, for a moment, the easy choice. Just run away, do what you know. "I can't have him back, and the man's not the man he was, nor am I the young girl I was. Besides, I've got you." Uneasy and shy, she shrugged and glanced into the mirror that stood atop the table within the foyer. "I didn't stay there."
Unclean.. unpure. Words she thought of herself before meeting Melanie.Yet hearing them caused her vision to lower and set on the counter top instead. Hearing Melanie speak -- it reminded her of a position she put others in. Just say it.. she felt herself thinking. Just say the words, cast her aside. She could feel the nervous, cold sweat returning to her. Her stomach felt far too alive for comfort. Yet, it did not come. What she heard instead had been something far different. She looked to Melanie's eyes once more then and couldn't help but stare. ".. So, you chose to be here then." Came her voice after a few moments of silence.
"There'd be no point in being a mother to someone who'd never understand who I am." She seemed angered by this, hurt more than anything. Her fists balled, an involuntary reaction, and for a moment her eyes sparked with livid, blatant purple streaks. Before the taint had taken her, before she'd given so much of her sanity, they'd been that color, royal purple, soft purple. "Even there, Terry, I'm an object. I'm a freak, you know? We aren't supposed to be Force users, we aren't supposed to be me. I'm a mutant, a genetic flaw, yeah? I can be used, but I'm best on a leash, controlled and pointed in a direction, then let go." She muttered the words, small things. "I will not be used." She finally looked back up, the weight of guilt in her eyes. "I'm not a painting on the wall. You don't treat me like that. I don't need to be anything more than what I want to be with you. It's not like that..." She unclenched one hand and gestured up, towards where the night sky should have been. "there. I'm too different. So yeah, I'm here."
Guilty. She felt even more guilty. For allowing herself to doubt the woman -- that among other reasons. Terry's own hands clenched inside her pockets. "You're here.", she repeated the phrase. Her fingers uncurled and hands slid from the pockets. A step taken then, one so that she could draw closer to Melanie and reach to take her within her arms. "Welcome home." This was home, wasn't it? She had said it once, but now it had more meaning behind it. "I'm glad you're back.. and here to stay."
Though she wore the emblem with apparent pride, she called this place home. It was not her way, not her principal, to turn her back on what she believed. Through another's teaching, she'd come to realize that the twin tusked skull stood for what her people could never be, not again and not anymore. As she gave this thought, she spread her hand, fingers held wide, across the symbol so prominently displayed. She could be that, the last scion of a forgotten idea, even if she was here. Here, that strange idea. Here to stay. She'd spent so much time on the run, years hiding and years retreating in the face of a battle she couldn't win. She didn't stop the embrace, nor did she enter it fully. Her arms remained down, she still seemed confused. "Home, right. With you."
t sounded selfish. Here to stay, as if she had any power over it. She couldn't even push away her own problems, so how could she expect anyone else to do the same. When the arms remained down and she felt, even at this distance, the hug being something less than it should -- it had been when Terry's own grasp on Melanie began to loosen; until she pulled away all together. ".. I'm sorry, if I said anything wrong.. This can't be easy for you."
"It's easier than it might seem, I guess." She shrugged, a lame response that was quite typical of her introspective nature. "I mean, it was be alone there, like I always was before, or not be alone here. You taught me a lot, and so I learned, yeah?" The past few months, the past year, had done more to change her than an entire lifetime's worth of education and schooling. Keenly aware of the manner in which Terry turned away, she instantly regretted her actions, her words. Selfish? She couldn't even say the words, not right now. Hopefully, she placed a hand on the table, palm up, and edged it closer towards Terry, inch by inch. "Hard time for both of us. She's here though, so that's good?" As she spoke, she ticked her chin upwards and in the direction of Mary's room.
Her own hand had reached to take hold of a chair. She pulled it out and lowered herself to sit. When Mel's lingered close, it had been her right that reached to take the hand without delay. "I wouldn't know how to feel.. I've never been in a situation like that, so i'm a lil' stupid when it come to it.. I jus' want you to know, I'm here for you." She is. Even through the dreams and doubt -- she had still been here for Melanie. She would swallow all of it for now and maybe, just maybe, the dream meant nothing. There's no reason to even bring it up and into the open. "Yeah, I mean.. she's still here. I'm goin' back to court in a few weeks, an' then who knows.. Right now I'm lookin' at no jail time, all that's left is the stuff with Mary."
"It is what it is and it will be what it has been, Terry. I've rarely been in control of my own life, and now I am. I just didn't want to give that up." Feeling closer to her normal self, quite feline in nature, she wasted no time in dropping atop the chair, which of course was Terry. She sat facing away, perched on the other's lap, and dragged Terry's hand around her waist before settling it in her lap. With no real purpose, she began toying with the other's fingers, a placid gesture of affection. A strange quirk, her fascination with other's hands. Her own looked so different, at least in her mind. Maybe that'd change at some point. "I know. It's why I came in the first place. I mean, through the first shit storm, and now this, it's kind of always been the two of us.Why leave what works? All I really know is that I've lived with you and without you, and I'm happier when I'm with you." As she spoke, she turned quickly and offered Terry a peck, a short thing, to her cheek. "So I can't break you out?" Mock sadness coated her words. "You know, I had an idea about that...."
"I can't really say what happened, maybe my Mom said somethin' to him, or maybe my lawyer said somethin'. The charges were dropped, somehow.." She really didn't know. It felt awkward and strange that she didn't. Being kept out of the loop hadn't exactly been the most fun of things. The peck to her cheek drew her back more into reality. Terry blinked and looked to Melanie's mockingly sad look. A rather content smile found her face. "You did? I wouldn't want you blowin' up or hurtin' anyone for me though.."
"Well, I mean, maybe if they knew that there was someone else here, someone else to help with her..." She let it die there, the subject being quite a touchy one indeed. As to the nature of the politics, the matters of court, she could offer little .She, after all, had only been arrested once. She'd also reminded this city's Watch why that was a horrible, terrible idea and had not quite made it to court. All of that, the matters that pertained to it, were quite strange to her mind. She'd heard the speel before, the 'don't hurt anyone.' As her lashes fluttered, a rare blink, she shrugged and offered a benign smile that never quite lost the look of a viper. "But I would, though."
"They know. I went on the stand and told the judge what we did over the holidays, everythin'. About Rocky, about how she scraped her knee when she tripped over the rug.. There's only so much I can say, an' that's outside of draggin' people through the mud.. Right now, I'm guessin' it's just the waitin' game.. They want Mary to see a doctor hired by the court, prolly talk some things over.. So, whatever she says -- I guess. This new year started off rough for the both of us.." She finished her words with an easy observation as she squeezed the hand she held. "An' I know you would, but if you were to break me out.. I'd rather it be all stealthy."
"I'm not very good at that, actually." Though she had the tools, she had little to no inclination. Why, she wondered, should she bother with remaining hidden when she could simply glance at a wall and watch it fall apart? Not often, not often at all, but often enough it seemed. She'd spoken quietly, as if that was not the point to any of this. In her mind, the point was that she'd spoken of her, of them, in such a public place. For one who'd been kept in the shadows for so long, acceptance, a claim, tugged at the heart strings Terry held in both of her hands. She'd been sitting with her back to her counterpart, but upon hearing this most recent confession, she turned quickly, an effortless motion, that left them face to face. It was a tender thing, the kiss that looked for no cheek and found only lips, she hoped. Tender and slow, more sweet than anything else. "You've no idea how much I love you for that, Terry. Each day, yeah? You make me feel like you're proud to be with me, and that..." She settled more fully and pulled back from the remnants of the kiss, a comfortable thing. "is so important to me. No one else ever did, so why would I want to leave you?"
"I dunno, you're petty good at sneakin' up on me sometimes." The small weight atop her lap shifted then. Now they were face to face, and Melanie's own had dipped in to press her lips to Terry's. The tanned woman sat there, though after some seconds she'd raise a hand from Melanie's and press it to the woman's cheek instead. A tilt of her head to allow the slow kiss to be something more until they parted ways. "I told you. You're my girl.. Why wouldn't I talk about you?" She'd purse her lips some then. "Mel." What she said, that Melanie was hers. Anyone else in the past she could say that to without batting an eyelash, but here -- after the dream, it made her feel guilty. "I had a dream about Peaches.. We were naked, we kissed." The confession came out suddenly as Terry turned her head. "I'm sorry." Twenty and still worrying about something that could be considered something so highschool in thought. Terry lowered her gaze while lips took on light pout. It wasn't faked, it wasn't there to try and sooth any feelings. She truly felt bad.
"You just don't pay attention, that's all." As she moved, the light, small as it was, fell across her shoulders. Where a shadow should have been, where the twisted mass of living darkness should have crawled, nothing showed. For now, at least, the murky gloom that followed her, another's presence and another's twisted mind, had been forced to the side of this world. How long she could keep the monster at bay, however, was never a sure thing. Damaged bridges, burned bridges, were hard to rebuild. "Well, I mean, the other people didn't really talk about me outside of sleeping with me, so I don't know. It's just a big d-......oh." She paused mid sentence, the words having taken a moment to register in her mind. At times, her thoughts out paced her ability to react to them, though this was a ahmmer's blow, or a beacon in the night. "Why the-......., I guess no one can be blamed for thoughts." Always quiet, her voice dropped octaves until it reached a level that was difficult to hear, even due to the proximity. The distance grew, marginally. Forever one to jump to conclusions and habitually on the edge of a downwards spiral, she shrugged and glanced to the side. In her mind, it made sense. The night that she wasn't there, the night the other was alone in a hotel. It was a hollow feeling, one choked back quickly and harshly. "Maybe it was just stress? I'm sorry I wasn't there." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that.
"I think I jus' miss her.. she's been gone for a while," It sounded like excuses to Terry. Her eyes, still lowered and looking to the table instead, felt as if they could not turn fully to Melanie. ".. It could be, but it was still wrong.. I shouldn't of brought it up." Her body slouched a little. Everything felt heavy. Melanie had spoken of walking away from the father of her child and the child as well -- to return to her side, yet Terry felt the need to make a moment of comfort into something possibly more damaging. "But.. I didn't wanna hide it. You shouldn't be sorry, it was my fault." Her bangs fell over her eyes some as she dipped her hed. It was a clear sign that her hair had grown out some; that she needed a haircut. "It was jus' a dream.. I wouldn't think about doin' somethin' like that for real, believe me."
"Dreams are subconcious thoughts, Terry." She snapped, the words harsh and quite clipped, terse and angry. Quick to blow things far away from reality, she fell silent almost instantly. Terry didn't deserve those words, not now, most likely not ever. Even as soon as she'd said them, she felt the stream of hate rising, a caged animal that filled her mouth with a bitter vitriol. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." A murmur, quite a whisper. The words were strange, the flavor odd. Twice in one night, she'd apologized. You just miss her, or you miss kissing her? I wanted to be your dream girl, Terry. It should have been me. No matter the words she said, those thoughts weighed down the pit of her stomach like a rusted anchor dragging a ship to certain doom. "I would rather you have told me. I was under the impression that we didn't keep secrets from each other. Isn't that what you told me once, that you wanted to know everything, all of it?" This next sentence was less angry, but still far from pleased. Her eyes, suddenly logical and chillingly appraising, drew a line through Terry's forehead, even as one hand idly tussled with the hair. Truth be told, she liked it longer. "I'd hope not." It was all she had, this faith. Quite literally. She'd thrown everything else away, all of it. "You're it for me, Terry King. I gave everything else up for you, every fucking thing I'd ever known. But thank you for telling me." An after thought, something muttered and something drawled in her own language, almost a reflexive action. "Na'ha tratto'ka, Mesh'la."
The snap not only silenced her, but also caused her body to tense. She felt a lump in her throat, and no matter how many times she swallowed, it wasn't going away. Terry felt terrible, not only that -- she felt scared. All she could do was nod her head slowly when Melanie spoke her apology. "That's why I said it.. I don't wanna hide anythin' from you." She snorted back some, then turned her head. This shift hadn't lasted for long as she raised her chin a touch so that she could dare look upon Melanie once more. You're it for me.. Those words that caused Terry to feel even worse about the dream. Melanie had given up much -- and here she is. "I'm sorry." She repeated the apology. "I know.. You've given up a lot for me, that's why I felt so terrible.. I did miss you, but it's no excuse."
"I don't want excuses, Terry." She sounded as if she was pleading, or if she was just exhausted. Emotions were her weakness, emotions she didn't understand. She leached upon them, drew them in and fed on the residual energy. When there was nothing but confusion, her mind burned and her body felt heavy. "Don't fuck up, more or less. Literally, 'Don't fail me now, beautiful.'" This was an addendum, she'd quickly realized her hypocrisy. Muttering in her own language was another secret kept, another poor reaction. The tensing, the snort, the very look at the sight of Terry's features, all in turn, mitigated the rising tide of anger like a dam thrown before a wall of rushing water. The hand that'd idled within tangled locks shifted down, ever so slowly, until her palm rested on Terry's cheek. For a moment, she stared silent before resting her cheek against her own hand, quite close. "I believe you, on both accounts." This from one who trusted a number she could count on one hand. "I don't think you'd do that, I won't allow myself to think it." Abruptly, she stood, though her hand lingered. "I'm going to sleep." You can come if you want, or not. It wasn't said, but the intent shouldn't have been hard to see, expressive as she was.
Don't fuck up. Easily said than done. Much of Terry's relationships ended like that -- fucked up. It was a fear going into this one. She had allowed herself to be open more, to have faith, and she didn't want that to be stricken down so soon. The hand pressed to her cheek, then Melanie's own cheek pressed to that hand. Them lingering like this had been nice. The closeness shared after being apart for only a few days. When Melanie stood and spoke, Terry sat there with her thoughts. "I'll be up in a lil' bit.. I need to finish a few things down here." she said while touching her own hand to Melanie's. "I won't be long."
For a moment, Melanie stared over her shoulder. Her eyes, things that varied like a mid summer sky, seemed blank, almost empty. I won't let myself think that she's going to text her, or call her. I won't, I won't just fucking fade out and stand right here. Her thoughts were dangerous things, paranoia drawn from age old wounds that'd never been healed. She'd been the product of betrayal, an ugly thing, and it was all that she feared. "Don't take too long, please?" Shoes akin to ballet flats slipped up the steps, a ghost's whisper of sound. She paused long enough to, for whatever reason, poke her head into Mary's room, curious and habitually nervous. Satisfied by the sight of a sleeping body, she turned through their door. Clothes were left in a haphazard pile, soft garments thrown towards the wall in a rash motion. When she finally fell into the bed they shared, she did so on the far side, close to the edge. Sleep never came easily, she'd no doubt it'd be any better on this night.
Alone in the kitchen then. Terry kept to the seat in silence while looking down at the table. Then, with a shift of her body, her head would tilt back so eyes could look up to the ceiling that seperated the first floor from the second. "ugh," Not much of a word, but the expression of disgust in herself had been there nonetheless. A soft mewl from Trouble had finally caught her attention. The cat seemed to be hungry. While Terry's first idea had been to just gather her thoughts, this turned into her standing up and opening a can of cat food. Once the feline appeared to be happy with its meal, Terry would wrap the remainder of the can in tinfoil and place it inside the freezer. She watched the cat eat, then slowly crouched down to give Trouble a few strokes along its spine. Five minutes would pass before Terry entered the room. Quietly, she changed from her clothing and into something more reasonable to sleep in -- a simple top and pajama pants. She lingered close by the bed and looked to Melanie on the far other side. Slowly, she climbed into the covers and took the very same position on the opposite side of the bed. Even together like this, it felt far apart.
Quite like she'd once done, countless nights ago when she'd slept angry, or tried to, Melanie found that she couldn't. A whirlwind of emotions, she understood one thing in the strange combination of this and that, the pervasive notions that danced through her mind like errant storms waiting to give birth to petty outbursts. She could feel the weight shift, the subtle change, quite as easily as she could hear footsteps that were never so quiet. She turned slowly, her eyes open and her chin held up on one hand, posted and curious. Ever so slowly, in inches and shudders, she closed the distance. Not quite all the way, but when she finally felt comfortable, she found that her hand rested atop Terry's hip, her elbow barely bent by the extension. Oddly enough, she discerned that the distance, something she'd created, was to be blamed for the feeling of instant loneliness. While not wrapped around the other's form, simple shared warmth seemed like a bridge in the darkness. "G'night, sweetheart." Muttered into a pillow, soft last words.
Text to Terry ----- I'm sorry for last night. I want you to know that I trust you, not because I have to, but because I want to. In the end, you'll do what you do, Terry. I fell in love with you, you fell in love with me. I trust that. I hope you have a good day. <3 :*