Remedial Mistrials and Errors (Open)
  • Posted On: Nov 5 2001 5:11am
Theed, Naboo


Tears engulfed a young woman's eyelids as she laid focus poignantly upon her modest home -- or merely its remains. Her valiant and silent gaze soon depleted into short glances, separated by surrenders of all nonchalance...violent sobs of anguish closely followed. Despite the mixture of sweat and saturation rolling brashly down her scarlet cheeks and into quivering lips, a subtle courage embraced her womb to where her hand clutched that of another...perpetually in stasis, pale of tone.

A male and female, both rooting tresses of gold and skin of porcelain, lay to rest in coffins of ash under the impression of shattered stone. Arms intrepidly strung between each other with only eternal love to serve as their savior, the young newlyweds entered demise hand-in-hand with simply lost hopes and dreams representing the demonstrations such love could have exhibited.

All futures, aspirations, loves, and attractions...all void in a second's burst; ultimately tainting a future that could have been existent, but wasn’t -- infinitely undone.


***


Xylon skulked amid eradicated dwellings and piled corpses with a stricken composure seeming to pain him with each blink of either eye. Satchels of agony dominated the heart of several whom innocently gaped at his presence; most yelped pleas for mercy and wishes of redemption according to a bureaucracy thought to have abandoned their suffering.

Empathy meant nothing; the victims tasted auxiliary efforts all too often...the pain continued to linger.


"H-Help...m-my mom...she w-won't wake up!"

"I-I can't find my son and daughter...please, they didn't d-d-d-d...I kn-now it.


Every face and murmur clung to Ranthra to where reality and nightmare no longer endured boundaries or moral. His cheeks virtually began to swell in the wake of redundancy observed in every sullen gesture. Past exploits haunted him torrentially, and the eyes of those he had once daunted incorporated into these severely distressed statures now planted before him.

A past once buried in denial only to be revealed once again....
  • Posted On: Nov 5 2001 11:39pm
Inside the Theed Royal Gardens, things were at their usual serene normality. The gardens had become a trully beautiful thing since Gash Jiren had begun working there... something the former Sith took great pride in. A snip here, dipped in root-stim serum, grafted to another plant. A new species created, hopefully a worthy addition to the gardens...

Gash was startled from his botanic activities by the commotion outside. Through the primarily transparisteel walls of the domed greenhouse, the Jedi could see a crowd near several homes.

Burnt down homes.

Homes he'd burnt down.

Looking away, closing his eyes as if to take the brunt of the sting the truth carried, Gash gritted his teeth. He didn't want to think about what he'd done- he was a different person then.

He was.

HE WAS, DAMNIT!

If keep telling yourself that, you do, then begin to believe it, you might.

The voice of Rakili, the small green sprite of whatever mystic species Yoda belonged to, boomed in Gash's mind.

So? Perhaps it would be better that way.

Better that way, it would not be. A lie it is- and it was said by yourself delusion is a path to the darkside.


Gash nodded, and sent back an affirmitive sensation to his mentor.
* * * *

Seeing and sensing the nucleus of the crowd, Gash made his way through. Placing his hand on the shoulder of his fellow Jedi, Jiren spoke quietly.


"Help needed, friend?"