maloja.

            “ahsoka didn’t make a mistake   —”             her voice trails and she looks at him in abject disgust, her emotions, her steely control lessened by the alcohol in her system.             “you of ALL people defending the council that’s done so much wrong.“             and because they’d done her to much wrong for her to imagine forgiving. they’d left her masterless on rattatak when she’d been found by the sith, after she’d clawed her way to the top of the desolate heap. she’d been a padawan once, a slave before that. there’s no way to find her less pitying than to bring mention of the council before her feet. 

            ‘you are no jedi,’       a legend had once said, once told ventress while her heart was still enshrouded in the darkness of being a dark acolyte,       ‘you are hatred and bile given form.’

            ventress had killed her, the jedi master had given the last of her strength to kenobi and now the man stood as a blight against her memory. the taint on what should have been the accomplishment of killing a legend.

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            asajj stands, snarls at anakin and throw her pack over her shoulder, saber audibly clinking against the clip of her belt.             “i don’t care. the girl won’t fall, but one day you will, she should be kept a far from you as is galactically possibly,”            asajj accuses. she has no basis to believe that skywalker will ever truly fall from the light, but the darkness and anger in his step make her believe it’s enough of a possibility to strike a nerve regardless.

            kill me, she dares with the steel in her eyes. strike down someone who’s attempting to reform from the sith, claim it was because the jedi blood on her hands   —   the force would know. prove her right. it wasn’t as though she’d not earned a death sentence.             “don’t look for me again unless it’s your intention to put that saber of yours through my heart. i’m no longer your enemy.”

               THERE ARE UNKNOWN parallels between the two of them; unacknowledged && uninformed. What if the Sith had found him before the Jedi? Would he be the same as Asajj? Or would Dooku have succeeded with Anakin what he could not with Ventress? The possibilities don’t seem to matter much anyways, not with Anakin’s fingers clenching around a throat too far away from him to reach physically. He throws his fury out into the Force, seeking to disarm her in a way that would do little more than earn him begrudging respect in a cantina this far underground

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              ❝ Shut up! ❞ He roars, && the cantina goes quiet around them. He has it in him, death, this silence, he gives it off in a cloud. A feral, subliminal hum that grows teeth with her words. Has Anakin’s arc of his self-destruction become that glaringly obvious? Even his enemies can see him inching towards the edge. A precipice he needs only fall from in order to be fully consumed. 

               Anakin feels himself slipping further && further with each day this war rages on. In a sudden flash of clairvoyance he knows that he won’t make it out alive

               Kill me, her stare seems to say, && Anakin can feel his fingers growing tighter around the resisting energy that acts as Ventress’ throat in the Force. He wants nothing more than to go through with it. Velvet heat curls deep within his senses, && he reaches into it, drawing it up through his body with a violent twist. Something gives, renting open with a ripple that seeps through every muscle && nerve. Loosens him into a whirlwind motion as everything bounces back into cutting focus. 

               The Dark Side.

               Anakin’s grip relaxes as if he’s been burned, && he shies back into his seat && away from the burning knot of emotions sitting on the edges of his awareness. No— this isn’t what he wants. This isn’t what Ahsoka would want.

     ❝ Just— go. ❞

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