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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 11, 2006 8:13:20 GMT -5
I don't know! I haven't thought it all out yet!
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 11, 2006 12:07:24 GMT -5
Then start thinking about it!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 11, 2006 14:38:29 GMT -5
Bahhh, too much to do. Lectures and suchlike.
PS This reply was brought to you by Drunk Katie, so she may regret it in the morning.
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 11, 2006 15:30:43 GMT -5
Right. OKay.
How drunk?
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 12, 2006 2:50:32 GMT -5
At the time I wrote that, I was quite light-headed and wobbly after my college parents got me to down two glasses of wine.
It was NOTHING compared to how I got later...
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 12, 2006 12:31:18 GMT -5
Do anything REALLY embarrasing?
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 12, 2006 16:59:50 GMT -5
No, thankfully. But if I'd stayed at that nightclub much longer... that guy was starting to look WAY too attractive.
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 12, 2006 17:03:05 GMT -5
Ah.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 13, 2006 17:22:30 GMT -5
Indeed.
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 13, 2006 17:37:06 GMT -5
Hmm.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 15, 2006 13:09:32 GMT -5
Oh god, we're getting into this kind of conversation again. Must update.
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 15, 2006 13:15:04 GMT -5
Yes, you must.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 17, 2006 15:49:04 GMT -5
*HAS WRITTEN MORE*
*IS SMUG*
Sethan looked tired. “Jaceth and I were identical in every way. The Emperor was thrilled, of course – two extremely powerful apprentices for the price of one. He raised us and taught us the ways of the Sith.
“But the Rebel Alliance learned of our existence. They decided that we were too dangerous to be left alive. There was… a raid, on the Imperial Palace. They were determined to either capture us – or, if that proved impossible, kill us.
Sethan took in a deep breath and let it out. “The fighting was ferocious. I don’t remember much of it, I was only young… but I remember that Jaceth wanted us to go out and join in the fighting. I insisted it was too dangerous, but he didn’t listen. He left our room to go fight. I remember sitting there for a long time by myself.... until Rebels came and found me. They just grabbed me and took me away. When I asked later about Jaceth, they said he was dead.”
He paused, looking down at the floor. Neither Lucy, Obi-Wan nor Xanden could think of anything to say.
“The Rebel Alliance raised me after that – made me realise how wrong the Emperor was. I began to work for them. They were also able to tell me more about my heritage, and what it meant to be a Time Lord. But even then, I never imagined…”
“I saw Jaceth,” said Lucy, “In my head. He didn’t look like you.”
“No.” Sethan sighed heavily. “He wouldn’t.”
Ashara was sure she saw something flicker in Valistar’s face. “Jaceth?” he said in an exact impersonation of a nonchalant person, “Hm. I’ve never heard of him myself.”
“Apparently he looks exactly like Sethan,” Ashara persisted, “And they were saying that he led the attack on Mirkwood. The one that killed my parents.”
This time, nothing flickered. But that was disturbing in itself. His expression was being all too secretive. “Is that so?”
“Mm.” Ashara looked hard at him. “They told me about that on the Falcon. They-”
Valistar suddenly sighed heavily and stood up. “Look,” he said, in an entirely different tone, “I’ve had it with these funny little how-much-does-he-know how-much-does-she-know games. Clearly you have already decided that I am ‘evil’. So let’s just stop pretending, shall we?”
Ashara immediately sat up. “Fine. You’re working with Jaceth, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“Er, no. I AM Jaceth. Funny story, actually-”
“YOU’RE Jaceth?”
“Yes, please don’t interrupt. Where was I? Oh yes, the funny story-”
Ashara scrambled out of bed and threw herself towards the window. Before she got there, however, she felt herself freeze in place. “That’s terribly rude, you know,” he said reproachfully, “You’ll miss the humorous conclusion.”
She was turned round, and came face-to-face with him. He looked utterly relaxed, and as though he was having the time of his life. “Look. Ashara. You can’t escape from here, so don’t bother trying. I know, I know, I’d hardly tell you that you could escape – ‘Oh yes, you can easily escape, the guards change shift every three hours and there’s a handy-dandy tunnel that leads right outside’ - but you really, really can’t. If you try, well, I won’t kill you – I still need you – but I will cause you extreme pain. And I’m quite good at that.”
He sounded as nonchalant and cheery as he had when they’d been discussing the cake at the picnic. “Now,” he said, “I’m going to release you – and you’re not going to run away, are you? No? Good girl.”
She felt the invisible force holding her suddenly dissipate, and immediately swung a leg at him.
“Ah,” he said, that also freezing in mid-air, “Should have specified. Please don’t hit me, either. It hurts. Just warning you now, I’ll hit you back. Got that? Good.”
Once again, her leg was released, so that she almost staggered over. She glared at him, breathing heavily – but knew she could do nothing.
“Right,” she said finally, “So you’re evil.”
“I prefer ‘ethically diverse’.”
“Whatever. You’re planning on releasing Morgoth, and you need me for some reason. So – you brought me here to marry you??”
“Oh, no. I never would have married you. But it was an interesting challenge for my people skills to try to make you fall in love with me, and most humorous to see you actually doing so.”
“I didn’t,” insisted Ashara.
“Ashara. Please. I’ve been inside your head,” he said, “Don’t embarrass yourself.”
Ashara didn’t care that he’d stop her – she struck out as fast as lightning. Without blinking, he caught her fist, unfolded her hand and snapped her middle finger backwards. “I told you,” he said calmly as she cried out and snatched her hand back, mind filled with pain, unable to process anything other than her finger shouldn’t look like that, “You hit me, I hurt you. Have you learnt a valuable lesson?”
“I HATE you!” she screamed at him, staggering backwards, cradling her hand.
“I’m hardly fond of you.”
Ashara swung her leg up at his head, and managed to land a blow before he snatched it. “Are you going to make me break this as well?” he asked wearily.
“I don’t care if you break every bone in my body, I am going to KILL YOU,” raged Ashara, trying to pull it out of his grasp.
He looked at her. “Shame.” He didn’t even shift his grip; her ankle just suddenly exploded in pain, and she fell backwards, her head cracking against the wall as she fell.
She lay curled in a heap, pain burning not only in her ankle and her finger, but seemingly throughout her body, eyes scrunched shut as she tried desperately not to black out.
“Now, are we going to have to do that again?” she heard him say.
She’d found her anchor in reality. Her eyes flew open, and she looked at him, feeling as though she was about to explode with hatred. Rage was burning throughout Ashara, and she felt like if she found the right combination of words she could send it in a torrent of flame at him, “You’re – you’re SICK, you’re EVIL, you – what do you want with me?”
Jaceth stifled a snort and grinned widely. “Oh, please. Like I’m going to tell you.” With that, she felt herself lifting up into the air and back onto the bed. “Don’t you like surprises?”
“Not particularly,” she forced out through clenched teeth.
He shrugged. “Me neither, come to think of it.” He watched her as she lay still, clutching the area around her ankle, breathing in short gasps. “Does that hurt?”
“Not in the slightest,” she spat, with considerable effort.
He smiled. Suddenly the pain vanished. Uncertainly, she lifted away her hands and looked down at her ankle. It looked perfectly normal. So did her finger. She looked up at him.
“I expect they don’t now,” he said.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded.
“Would you rather I’d left them broken?”
“Yes.”
“Now that’s just being unnecessarily stubborn. Besides, I need you on your feet tonight.”
“What for?”
“I’m having a few friends round for a little get-together. You’re a guest of honour. There’s a dress in the wardrobe for you.”
Ashara looked at him. “If you think I’m going to-”
“Yes.” Jaceth beamed. “I rather think you will.”
Then he tapped her forehead and everything went black.
I enjoyed writing Ashara getting beaten up WAY TOO MUCH...
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Post by goblingirl on Oct 18, 2006 2:06:13 GMT -5
My inner 14-year-old is torn between Sethan and Jaceth.
I don't like having an inner 14-year-old.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Oct 18, 2006 4:01:48 GMT -5
What do you mean, they're torn?
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