Cacophony of Sound

[Vinny]

A swirling kaleidoscope of color and light swirled before a man's eyes. Did he have eyes? Was he a man? Words, a voice, hateful and full of resentment roiled in his ears like a thundering storm. "You took everything!" The angry voice cried. Did he? Why? It did not make any sense. Visions assailed him, he watched a world die as a column of power pierced it. Souls burned in the vacuum of space. Screams, shouts, rage, fear, hate, madness. "You are a monster!" Another voice, female, he felt a wetness on his cheek, spittle? A man in armor. Bleak skies above a jungle world. A building, a church? The world churned beneath him and he felt himself heave. Black walls, a throne, men falling to their knees in agony. Tears on a woman's face as she took her own life against her will.

Shuddering gasps of terror, sobs of wretchedness, an ocean. What beauty was there in nature? Destruction was the only beauty. But what is the cycle of life but death and rebirth? Destroying without creating is a fool's errand. Only because the end is nothingness. A child's face, smiling up at her father. Who was she? A thunderous wail of a thousand voices. "Rise my friend." "Sleep forever, demon!" "Suffer as we suffered!" "Die! Die a thousand deaths!" "Take back what was yours!" "Just give up!" A cacophony of sound, voices, so many voices, so many minds, swirling endlessly in an ethereal madness that threatened once again to consume him. Again? How many times had he fallen? How many times had he drowned in this madness?

"I forgive you." Another voice.

"Stand up." On what? He had no legs to speak of.

"Of course you do, you have two." He looked down at his feet, he could see them. Legs. Narrow, ending in feet with five toes each. Fascinating. He wiggled his toes experimentally. There was a strange substance beneath his feet, it was warm and soft and grated between his toes.

"That is sand, Wake." The voice instructed, he blinked, sand, a curious thing it was. What happened to the other voices? What is Wake?

"You are Wake, and I am the only voice you need hear for now. It is the least I could do after I failed you so," the voice said, she sounded so very sad. Wake trembled, looking at his hands.

"What happened to you?" He asked aloud, experimenting with his own voice. It sounded so strange, light, and humorous despite how pained he felt.

"You will remember, eventually. I hope that you can forgive yourself for it when you do," Said the voice, he felt his heart sink. Had he killed this person? Why was she helping him? What had he done? What madness had possessed him for so long that he could not remember anything?

"The corruption poisoned your mind until nothing was left, your body would not die, but your mind was on the verge. There was a glimmer of hope for you in that moment, I took it, for your sake, Wake. Please do not waste it," Wake shuddered and fell to his knees, grief taking him. He sobbed into the sand until it stuck to his face like mud. He did not understand why he was crying, why his body hurt so badly, it felt like he was falling to pieces and coming back together in and endless cycle. It was agony.

"Don't go! Don't leave me here!" He sobbed, curling up on the ground. Matted brown hair sticking to his face and naked shoulders. She did not call out to him again. He did not know if she hadn't the strength to do so, or if she simply had done what she needed to do. Pity. Why did pity burden his heart so much?

The world went dark, and he was left at the mercy of the sandy world around him.

 

[Shax]

Volken had spent several weeks on Tatooine on an open ended quest assigned by the Grandmaster and her Marshal's. Specifically, he was supposed to spread the faith to outer rim worlds. Quickly, he had discovered how foolhardy that quest was; it would never come to fruition, the people of this galaxy were never going to be as in need of worship as the old worlds. It had become an almost never ending chore, surrounded by failure and frustration. The heat of this world only amplified his frustrations, hundreds of hours had been wasted trying to help the stubborn moisture farmers and nigh impoverished shop keepers of Tatooine to see the truth of the Maker. The sun beat down on him, making him sweat in his armor; one needs to look official after all, and his armor was the most official Paladin memorabilia he could get. The rented speeder he was in was almost tan due to sun bleach, the paint long peeled off in the dust of the desert world. Its unairconditioned interior acting like a hotbox for the sun.

It seemed like decades since he had embarked on this foolhardy and wasteful mission, though in truth he had only been at it for a little less than a year and a half. He looked around, hundreds of kilometres of sand in every direction. At a spur of the moment decision, he stopped the speeder at the top of a dune, and let his frustrations and fears run through him. He beat his fists on the dash of the poorly maintained speeder, at the same time a low growl began in the back of his throat. He got out of the speeder, and slowly removed his helmet which he haphazardly dropped into the sand; he removed his left gauntlet and then his right which he also dropped in the sand before running his hands through his hair. He screamed loudly, and heard the noise echo off the dunes and into the distance. He bent over in sudden exhaustion, placing his hands on his knees for a few moments before looking around at the desert, desperately looking for anything. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he wanted to just find something.

Just as he was about to turn back to his speeder in disappointment, he saw what he mistook for a slight difference in sand tone and thickness. There was a man laying in the sand, unclothed and unmoving. He was maybe six hundred meters away from Volken. First, Volken called out a quick "Hey!" Though he knew he wouldn't be heard at this distance. After that, still in his slightly hysterical state, he started running towards the curled up figure. It was relatively slow going, the sand and the dunes slowed his progress, though he still reached the apparently unconscious man in a few minutes. He leaned over the man, trying to wake him with a few waves and whistles, though when he didn't stir Volken was suddenly at a loss for what to do. He looked up at the sky, the Sun would kill this man if he didn't help, not he would allow himself not to help. He could run back to the speeder, which in hindsight he should have brought along in the first place; or he could carry the man with him.

In what seemed to be a series of bad decisions, Volken decided the latter. Ignoring the mans nudity, Volken picked him up in a fireman's carry and spent the trip back to the speeder at a measured jog. When he reached the mechanical means of transportation, Volken placed the man in the passengers seat and almost collapsed as he grasped one of the the lukewarm canteens of water and took a long drink from it. He took a jacket he had folded in his travel pack and threw it over the mystery man, before once again trying to wake him up to no avail. Making a quick decision, he grabbed his discarded and now sand ridden pieces of armor and hopped into the drivers seat of the speeder, before continuing on his journey to Mos Eisley.

 

[Vinny]

Images swirled beyond rational perception. Wake did not know whether or not the voice he heard from afar was real or a fantasy. All he knew was unbearable heat and drought of the body. It felt like the oils in his skin were beginning to boil. The world was spinning again, and he was diving. He could hear the voices once again in the distance. They were so close. He saw things in his minds eye, a darkened world covered in red sand. Bleak, unforgiving. He saw a barren plane that seemed unnaturally empty, like there should be some manner of structures dotting it. There were none. He saw a chamber, and beyond it he saw a passage.

Another jerk of motion brought him out of the vision. He was seeing clearly now. He blinked a few times, regarding himself and the cloth covering his nakedness. He was in some manner of transport, a speeder? Who was driving it? He glanced up to see a man in the strangest clothes he had ever seen. Bits of metal armor like ancient knights of old clung to his chest. Wake rubbed his face and tried to sit up.

"You? Who? Where am I?" He asked, slipping back down into an awkward position as he found his sweat slaked body was too slick to sit up in the seats. He rubbed the back of his head, collecting his thoughts. "You saved me... thank you." He said to the strange man.

It felt so odd to feel gratitude, which disturbed him. Though he did not find it surprising. If the man he had been had harmed the person who had saved him from his swirling madness, perhaps the man had also been devoid of gratitude and appreciation as well. Or perhaps he was just so broken he did not understand the sensation fully yet. Whatever the case, he gave as good a smile as his tired body could.

"What world are we on?" He asked finally.

@ Dawnrider

 

[Shax]

Lost in thought as to who this mystery man was and what Volken should do with him, he almost didn't notice the man begin to move out of his unconscious state. Before the man could even croak out a word, Volken thrust a canteen of water into his hands and spoke one word "Slowly!". By the mans words, he was obviously frazzled to say the least, and Volken's initial cynical assumption that the man was a drunk who got lost in the desert melted away. Though it never left, after all, how drunk would one have to be to no know what world they were on?

He nodded silently when he was thanked, and returned the mans tired smile with one of his own. Running several hundred meters in desert heat exhausted him, and he was just happy that the man was awake. "We are on Tatooine." He spoke with a cautious yet friendly tone, hoping not to betray any of the secret fears or concerns he had about the man, or the frustrations that still bothered him.

"My name is Volken Sandanar, Paladin of Mortis. Currently I'm headed to Mos Eisley, where I'll be leaving this planet." He spoke in a much more confident, formal voice. As if he was getting pleasantries out of the way in thinly veiled excitement to learn more about the mystery man. As he was speaking of his, and therefore both of the two men's destination; the speeder crested a dune revealing the titular population centre on the horizon. He hoped his words implied his want for more information; by giving his name and title, and his objective, he hoped the other man might reciprocate in kind.

ooc: Sorry for the wait.

 

[Vinny]

"Tatooine," Wake said quietly, musing over it. Images came to mind, words, statistics, details...battle plans? He shook the thoughts from his head, trying to force himself to focus. He had to focus. It was the only way to keep the strangeness at bay. He looked up at the man after taking a long drink from the canteen, sighing in relief and looking down at his naked state. He frowned, supposing there was not much he could do about it at this juncture. The man gave his name, title, and objective. He also gave his destination and goal. Why did that amuse him so much? He bit his lip and settled the emotion.

"Something tells me I have met one of you before," he murmured, taking another sip of water. "You have done me a kindness that I cannot repay. I... believe that my name is Wake, I do not know my surname, title, or mission. Save that I would very much like to know how I got here and who I was before," He winced, holding his head for a moment. He shook off the pain and let out a small laugh. "Best not to ah... try to think on it yet, I suppose."

An image did come to him, it shook him for a moment, a blue and green world filled with the trappings of modern society. It was a glistening, progressive world. It was also his. His homeworld, of course. It did not belong to him, right? Strange thought. He shook the thought away, looking for the name of the world. "Corellian, I am Corellian,"