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Thread: The Rainbow Connection (Lyydea)

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    Closed The Rainbow Connection (Lyydea)

    Have you been half asleep?
    And have you heard voices?
    I've heard them calling my name
    Is this the sweet sound
    That called the young sailors?
    The voice might be one in the same

    I've heard it too many times to ignore it
    It's something that I'm supposed to be




    Outside the light frigate Aranar, space slid by in colorful swirls while her inhabitants slept. While most of them slept, anyway. The bridge was manned by Jeng, overseeing second shift duties, and his fellow Mando'ade who were keeping the night oil burning for the rest of the crew. The crew meaning everyone who was on board - most were Mandalorians from Onderon, though there were a few newer faces among them. Lyydea Amarra was one of those faces, and she was among those who were sleeping.

    Lilaena De'Ville walked the main passageway in the living quarters. There were just a handful of matching cabins, one bunk room, and one of the cargo areas had been retrofitted into another dorm-like room. Since they had met back up with Bretak and the Haran, the crush of having nearly eighty beings on board one ship (capital or no, it was still on the small side) had been eased. Still, five thousand people spread over seven ships of various sizes was not a comfortable fit. A more permanent solution was being sought.

    Returning to Onderon was not an option. A'na had made sure of that - burning bridges behind Lilaena had nearly been an art form with the woman when she had been alive, let alone a vengeful spirit. The only way forward was...forward. And part of that momentum had gathered up some of the flotsam of the galaxy, those who were forgotten, or misused. Rescuing Force users from the clutches of their abusers was something Lilaena felt very strongly about. Lyydea was grateful for her freedom, but she didn't seem to know what to do with it, and at times Lilaena wasn't sure the girl even knew what 'freedom' meant.

    Her potential in the Force was reason enough not to simply drop her off on a neutral planet, but her naivete, coupled with nearly manic mood swings, made her as changeable as the wind. She was as dangerous to herself as she was to those around her. No, Lyydea needed more help than simply being rescued from a slavers market. She needed direction. She needed not to be controlled, but to learn how to control herself.

    It was nearly breakfast time, and soon they would be coming out of hyperspace in the Dantooine system. Lilaena rapped lightly on Lyydea's door with her knuckles.



    oh what a tangled web I weave


  2. #2
    This dream, this dream, this dream! I hate this dream! It's so loud and unpleasant. Oh sure it starts fine, a smiling face, a happy breakfast. But then there's so much fire, so much pain, some woman screaming but it doesn't make me feel all happy and warm inside like it usually does. No, no, no. I hurt when she screams, and try to reach for the sound, and I never get there! FRUSTRATING! I'm lifted by arms, and carried away like a torrent from the noise, the world goes quiet and black. When color fills my eyes again it's a world I finally recognize, steel bars and iron chains. An owner's smiling face telling me what a good girl I am. I should be happy, I should be smiling. I smile big and wide, and inside I scream. I scream like she screamed because I can still feel the fire, I can still hear her sound, I can still taste the smoke, I...

    Knock, Knock, Knock.

    I'm pulled from my dream by a new sound and wake sharply. Eyes scanning, searching, no one here. No master holding me down, no arms pinning me. I hug my knees for a moment, swallowing to clear the taste of ash from my mouth that lingers. I hate that taste. I always hate that taste.

    "C... coming!" I manage to squeak out in a sing-song, pleasant and warm and ever so sweet. I'm supposed to be that way, I was told to be that way. Yes! No pain, no fear, no fire, I bounce from my bed with a spring in my step and pull open the door to see who is there! Eyes widen in surprise.

    "Mistress De'Ville?" I manage to choke. I do not know when she has called on me this late. Have I done something to make her angry, or does she want my company? Other owners - no no... not an owner, she insists - have wanted my company in the late hours before. I lower my eyes, and curtsey, grabbing at the hem of my nightgown. "How may I serve you?"

  3. #3
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    She fought the urge to roll her eyes, or grab the girl and shake her out of her subservience. For all that Lyydea was willing to do to others weaker than herself, she seemed incapable of any sort of defense against those perceived as stronger. The Zeltron fought a yawn, and Lilaena forced a smile on her own face. "I thought we could have breakfast together. It ...it's a little early. If you would rather sleep..?"

    She paused, waiting for Lyydea's answer. Would she acquiesce to her not-master, or stand up for her own needs - sleep, in this particular case.

  4. #4
    I tilted my head to stare at Mistress De'Ville, curiouser and curiouser! Breakfast could be good, and would help to wake, wake, wake me up. Sleep would also be good, but could wait. If mistress wanted something it could wait. A pull ran through me, a chill in my back, that dream would be waiting for me if I went back to sleep. No, no, no. Food and obedience was a perfect combination for this morning.

    My smile returned, brightened, shone! "Breakfast, yes, yes! Mistress has such wonderful ideas. May I be allowed to get dressed? If we are to eat, I should be appropriately dressed."

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    The emotions at play in the young woman were an interesting combination. Some fear, yes, but not directed at Lilaena, and quickly masked by artificial cheer. "Please, yes. Get dressed. I'll be waiting out here in the passage."

  6. #6
    I gave another polite curtsey and spun on my heel, back inside my room I went, straight away to the simple closet the room provided and flung it open for the world to see! All my treasures contained within. A red dress, a blue dress, a yellow dress, A few ugly clothes that weren't dresses, but why, why, why would I ever wear those?!

    I slipped out of my nightgown and pulled out my blue dress, then my yellow one.

    "Blue dress... yellow dress... blue dress... yellow dress..." I debated with myself, holding up one then the other as I considered. "Blue dress!" I finally decided, a touch of nostalgia for the days that all I had was my old blue dress to wear worming through my skin like a prickly little caterpillar. Next came my shoes, black and shiny.

    "Over, under, around and through, meet Mr. Bunny Rabbit, pull and through~"I hummed the words to myself as I finished lacing and kicked my feet to look at first the left shoe then the right. Then quick as Mr. Bunny Rabbit I hopped, back to the door and opened it wide to smile bright and happy at Mistress De'Ville.

    "I'm ready!" I chimed pleasantly, giving a small curtsey and spin to show off how pretty my dress was.

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    "Excellent," smiled Lilaena. They walked down the passage together, the Zeltron skipping every now and then to keep up, her blue skirts swishing in a way that brought a burst of pleasure from her. As they got closer to the galley they began passing people in the hall, all Mando'ade in various types of outfits. The modern jumpsuit was being slowly integrated into their native garb, which led to some interesting conglomerations of armor pieces, boma leather, and high tech fabrics.

    "How do you like living here, Lyydea?" She looked sideways at the girl, and stopped to let her enter the galley first. It was too small to truly be a cafeteria, but there were a few tables and chairs bolted to the deck and a (currently empty) buffet table directly in front of the kitchen area.

  8. #8
    I immediately looked where normally I found the food, hoping, hoping, hoping to find some delicious, sweet pancakes. Someone had made them a few days ago, and I'd wanted more ever since. So light and so good, pour the syrup on and gobble them down!

    I'd make them myself, but one of Mistress's helmeted men told me I shouldn't play in the kitchen without someone around. Something about eggshells in their omelet. Whatever.

    I looked back to Mistress as she asked me another question, I was paying attention! I really was. Mostly. Sort of. I wonder if she wants pancakes.

    Question! She had asked me a question! How did I like living here? What a silly ting to ask, I liked being anywhere that she told me to be. Though, I knew that's not what she wanted me to say. So what did I feel about this place, outside of it being where my owner, master, mistress, or whatever title I should be using, was?

    Well... no one here was mean to me, though I get much fewer hugs than I used to. The food was definitely much better, pancakes! Mmmm. I got my own room, with sheets and dresses I could choose from!

    My smile almost broke my face, ear to ear and hap-hap-happy! "I like it very much! There are so many nice people, and so many fun things. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

    I fought back the urge to hug Mistress De'Ville, it wasn't proper, it wasn't my place.

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    "I am glad to hear it, Lyydea," she said. Pancakes. Why was she thinking about pancakes all of a sudden? Lilaena resisted the urge to rub the spot between her eyebrows. Ever since the... incident with A'na's spirit, she had been picking up on stray thoughts. She had even begun to be able to impress her own words into the minds of others. It was a startling, intoxicating feeling, one she simultaneously wanted more and less of. Asking another for help with the new abilities hadn't been an option, so she was learning the best she could.

    "Do you want...pancakes?"

  10. #10
    The corners of my face pulled tighter, my smile beamed at Mistress even wider. She was sooooo smart! How had she known?! "Yes, yes, yes! I looooove pancakes. Pancakes would be soooo good right now!"

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    The Zeltron's face smiled even larger than before, and Lilaena offered a small one of her own in reply. "Come on then." You didn't live on your own for years without being able to cook, and pancakes were very easy. After fifteen minutes of mixing and cooking they managed to create a large stack of pancakes. Lyydea helped - her enthusiasm was childlike, and her skill level matched, leaving the galley with a fine coating of flour by the time they were finished.

    Lilaena handed off the bowl of batter to an incoming Mandalorian, and joined the girl at a table just as she was beginning to pour syrup generously over her breakfast. She spread some butter on hers. "We haven't really talked much about you, Lyydea. About what you want for your life."

  12. #12
    They were perfect, amazing, wonderful, delicious! My smile all but exploded across my face as the gooey, warm syrup slowly slid down the sides of my stack. Was it possible to drown a pancake? I was going to find out!

    Then, without warning, a question. My smile slid just enough to make me realize it. Happy, happy. Have to keep happy, happy. I forced my smile brighter. I wanted to do whatever Mistress De'Ville told me to. More and more a tickle had been creeping into my head, a thought, stray and running like a wild puppy - Mistress wanted something else from me. Something that wasn't simply my obedience. Which was just crazy! Obedience, unquestioning and unthinking was what I was supposed to show. So many questions, questions, questions about what I wanted, rather than simply telling me what I wanted.

    I felt my lip tug between my teeth, a sharp grind, a pinch and the taste of coins fell over my tongue. Sticky, sweet goodness would replace it soon though. Yes, yes. A bit of color was okay, and I did so very much like red.

    But why, why, why did I have to answer such a question? I couldn't let Mistress see I wasn't happy about the question though, could not let her see. So in a big bite of pancake went to hide my answer. I mumbled around a mouthful of the breakfast goodness, hoping she'd hear an answer in it that she was expecting.

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    The girl tried to hide her discomfort, but Lilaena was very good at reading emotions through the Force. "Lyydea, if you do not tell me the truth I will be upset with you. You have lived here on the ship for a while now, and you have played the perfect servant girl the entire time. If this is all you are, that is fine. If you want more from life, then you're going to have to break out of your habits and talk to me."

  14. #14
    My cheeks puffed with the weight of the food, and I felt my shoulders slump. Unhappy.

    I was unhappy. I wasn't supposed to be unhappy. Why did I have to explain this to Mistress, even if she said it was fine for me to be the servant, even if she said that, why did I feel that's not what she wanted.

    Why did being asked this make my head swim, make my thoughts all itchy? Why did this have to be so difficult? There was so much simplicity in what I was. I was the servant, she was the mistress. She told me what to do and how, and I did it. No problems! No headache! No, no, no unhappiness!

    I swallowed my pancake and drew circles in the syrup with the prong of the fork. I barely managed to speak, but I knew I had to say something, couldn't just sit here not saying anything, she'd be even more upset, even more angry with me.

    "M'not sure..." it was barely a whisper, an embarrassed tone. I couldn't look up, afraid of seeing a gaze that was angry for me saying anything. "I don't 'member anything else." I wasn't supposed to talk about anything else, wasn't supposed to mention that there had ever been a time I wasn't the property of another. That was forbidden, that was against the rules.

    But this mistress, she was so different than any owner before. I wasn't even allowed to call her owner. "I'm just..." I trailed off, feeling my shoulders tighten and my gaze fall further, to the floor, I wanted to be anywhere else, somewhere, where I didn't have to explain, didn't have to talk, didn't have to feel her eyes on me.

    "I'm just a thing." I mumbled through sticky lips, pushing my plate away as I felt my appetite vanish into the air. "And...and... and... things don't want. They just... we just... I just... do what I'm told."

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    And there it was, finally, a crack her her persona. A glimpse into what lay behind Lyydea's carefully crafted happiness. She'd used it as protection for probably her whole life, and Lilaena regretted that she had to peel it away to expose Who Lyydea Really Is.

    She didn't touch her, or even move, afraid that the girl would pull the curtains closed and retreat. "You are Lyydea Amarra. You are not a thing."

  16. #16
    Lyydea Amarra, it was such a stupid name. Why not just call me girl, or yes thing or toy or whatever else my master or mistress wanted me to be. That's what I was. It was so much easier, I could smile and beam and be happy because I knew where I fit, and how I worked, and I didn't have to think, and I didn't have to remember, and I didn't have to...

    I slid my hand under the plate, under my uneaten pancakes and flicked it, the sticky mess sailing across the dining hall and shattering against the wall.

    "Maybe I don't want to be Lyydea." I groused, I was being bad. I was being disobedient. I'd be punished, but didn't I deserve that? Wasn't that what I'd earned. "Lyydea was such, is such, is always such a stupid girl. Stupid. Stupid. Couldn't do anything right, couldn't be good. Had to be taught. Taught. Taught. The whip and the smile. The whip and the hand."

    I twirled a curl of fiery red hair around a finger, pulling and twisting, knotting it around my knuckle until my pink skin turned red, until the strands I held pulled free from my head, tempted to repeat the process.

    "... I don't deserve to be Lyydea." I sank back further, wrapping my arms around my knees, tugging my chin to my legs. "Lyydea did it. Lyydea is responsible. If I'm a thing I can forget."

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    She ignored the thrown plate of pancakes and focused on the girl, needing to press further but cautious lest the child completely fractured. Lilaena gently pulled the yanked out curl from Lyydea's hand, laying it on the table. There were people coming in for breakfast, but a look from her made sure that they gave the two of them plenty of space.

    "What did Lyydea do?"

  18. #18
    I watched her over my knees, my eyes were leaking. I hated when the leaked. Wrong, wrong, wrong. It was the opposite of happy. I tucked in tighter, trying to hide, trying to curl away from her. "I don't want to say." I mumbled through my dress, burying my face again. "I didn't mean to." I bit my lip as the memory, nightmare and dream hit me much harder than it had earlier. The fire, the taste and smell of the smoke, her scream.

    "I just wanted breakfast." the words were barely a whisper. "I wasn't trying to be bad, I just wanted breakfast."

  19. #19
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    She shouldn't play with things she didn't understand. Lilaena knew that some things were just a bad idea, including what she was about to ask Lyydea to do. After all, she hadn't even had telepathic abilities until after she had defeated the spectre of her old master in a hellish dreamscape inside her own mind. A part of her was just curious to see if it would work, when she put her hands out toward Lyydea and said, "Show me."

    Another part of her saw this as an experiment worth taking, a way to help them both - training in her new abilities, and for Lyydea to open up. A much smaller part was scared shitless. Lilaena used that trickle of fear to open herself up to the maelstrom of the Dark side as Lyydea took her hands and they both closed their eyes.

  20. #20
    I am a good girl, I do what I am told. Mistress takes my hands and closes her eyes? Of course, course, course I'm going to do the same. I am a good girl.

    ---

    Warmth, a breeze catches my hair through an open window and blows it away from my face. I'm much shorter. This is long ago. I don't want to remember this, but I can't stop the images. I let out a soft breath I'd been holding in my chest and let it happen.

    My finger wrap against the door, a soft knock and then I push it open. Inside she is there. The happy woman, the smiling woman. I bound over to her bed and jump into it without a care. A soft laugh, a cough, I hear her say something to me, muffled by the soft comforter I have sank into.

    "Lyydea, Lyydea... it is too early. Mommy's tired right now, hon." Her smile is bright, and happy and warm and makes me want to smile, smile, smile! She's such a good owner. She's my first one I think. Always giving me hugs, the soft kind not the hurty kind. And making me food, and doesn't ask me to do anything I don't want to - lately she hasn't done as much. She is tired a lot. Usually asleep, or at the store picking up the bottles full of candy. She tells me it's not candy for me though. It's special candy to make her better.

    I hope she's better. She's such a wonderful owner. "I wanted to make you something!" I squeal in girlish delight as she pulls me closer to her in the bed, hugging me warmly.

    "Oh?" her soft voice questions, and I smile.

    "Yes, yes! I know'm not suppose to use to cook without you but, I wanted you to feel better so pancakes and bacon and..."

    There's a buzzing in the distance, a soft wail of warning. I see fear in her eyes, worry and concern as the smell hits me. The roiling black that rolls across the ceiling is the next thing I remember, the choking, gagging heat and her arms on me, pulling me stumbling. Then red and orange and the sound of screaming, and pain. I try and move her, but she's too big, I'm too small. I scream. She doesn't move.

    Everything is black, when I can see again, cough again, breath again it's not her voice I hear.

    "...cky anyone survived." a man's voice, a deep voice. "Where did it start?" A different voice, "Looks like the kitchen."

    It fades and I do too, everything turns grey and dark around me and it is quiet all but one sentence that repeats, always repeats, forever repeats. "Only one survivor."

    ---

    I pull back from the touch, the hands, her grip - I clench and clench and clench my head, hands digging into my hair as hot warmth spills from my eyes. "No, no, no. Didn't mean to. I'm a good girl. Didn't mean to."

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