archaeologix.

MY  FAULT  ,  MY  FAULT  ,  MY  FAULT  ;  the  voice  ━━━  her  voice  ━━━  is  screaming  in  the  back  of  her  mind  ,  the  guilt  she  has  not  allowed  herself  bubbling  to  the  surface  like  HOT  TAR  .      It  sticks  to  her  ,  burning  through  AGONIZINGLY  SLOW  ,  leaving  her  mind  raw  and  bloody  where  it  touched  .

                                    (  How  could  it  not  be  her  fault  ?      The  little  voice  needles  her  ,  PRICKING  at  her  insecurities  ,  her  failings  ,  memories  that  still  left  the  taste  of  regret  bitter  in  her  mouth  .      She  had  let  Zella  die  ,  had  let  Sana’s  HATRED  fester  like  an  open  wound  ,  had  let  ━━━  had  let  Ahsoka  leave  her  .      ABANDON  HER  ,  for  reasons  that  had  never  been  explained  .    )

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She  is  the cosmos  ,  vast  and  deadly  ,  its  DEPTHS  hidden  from  the  eye  ;  the  danger  that  lurks  within  the  emptiness  the  same  as  the  danger  that  lurks  within  her  .      (  She  is  SHARP  -  TOOTHED  ,  she  is  poisonous  ;  she  is  the  black  hole  ,  the  supernova  ,  and  the emptiness  between  it  all  .  )

Her  blade  ARCS  through  the  air  ,  fueled  by  that  heady  mixture  of  rage  and  misery  ,  her  own  SUFFERING  lending  her  strength  to  continue  .      Physical  pain  can  be  IGNORED  when  mental  anguish  rules  her  ;  burnt  hand  all  but  forgotten  ,  her  body’s  exhaustion  unnoticed  .      She  swings  heavily  ,  ARTLESSLY  ,  against  him  ,  as  words  spill  in  a  heated  whisper  ,  ragged  and  feverish  ,                        There’s  nothing  guiding  me  ,  you’re  just  TORTURING  me  !      ❜

               THE FORCE COMMUNICATES in a madman’s fervent whisper: show me your greatest regrets && I will show you how to turn your suffering outwards. To dash your losses on the backs of smaller, softer things. Some may call this cruelty, but you will call it retribution

               Vader feels Aphra’s rage, her eager submission to a transitory fever. Her violent distress when her sentimental delusions expose their cores of treacherous, selfish need. The Sith believe in no side but their own. Even their allies exist as dormant enemies, each one poised to strike when cards are in their favor. 

               He had once been foolish enough to believe that love could subsist in the midst of such despair. The dark side anchors to their emptiness, embodies infinity in its breathing vastness. It fills their souls with fire && spite && a terrible potential. She could watch the galaxy fall at her feet, but she’d have to fall with it.

               Such is the price of the darkness; consumption to the point of immolation

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     ❝ You have yet to know true torture, my apprentice. ❞ He echoes, meeting each of her clumsy blows with fierce, striking precision. It’s not a promise, or even a threat, just a warning. She would do well to recognize the generosity of that fact. 

 
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independent & private roleplay blog for anakin skywalker/darth vader of all star wars media. written by scout. || est. feb 2016.