Mind Games (JA)

Tears??? How, Why? Explain? That is a totally new phenomenon to me! So now that I have finished all my assignments (for the moment) and gotten off that sinking ship which was my Drama play.
Man the lifeboats Acutally that is unfair it went very well. Anyway...here is a little more to keep you occupied for a couple more days. It does have a point so bear with me. I wrote it listening to Titanic music so it may sound soppy. Anyway, I want critism people!!!!!

*NOTE* THe above was suppose to read Martin not Marcus. Otherwise I'm really stuffed.
Kithera

*****************

*

TO MARKET, TO MARKET TO BUY A FAT HEN
HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN, GIGGERTY-JEN.

They arrived at the city just as night fell. The guards smiled in amusement as Dmara undid her sandals and picked up her skirts to run the last few meters to get to the gate in time.

"You're lucky miss, any later and you might have had to spend the night outside. You never know what kind of disprespectful people that hang around here now." His mate laughed, but Dmara could feel the sincerety in the speaker's words. She smiled and sashayed past them, much to the bemusement of Qui-gon who grinned at Dmara's sudden turn of mood. She could feel the guard's eyes appraising her as she slipped on her sandals back on. The market smells greeted them, the smell of cabage and other smells, spicy aromas of cooking meat and deeper ones of freshly carved wood. Somewhere ahead a Cow lowed softly, Dmara surged foward confident for one of the first times in her life. This was her place, the place she had felt most familar with from the moment she could first remember. Hawkers cried their wares and some reached eagerly towards them. Dmara brushed their compliments and urges to one side.

"Know where we might find cheap lodgings?" she asked one.

"Over there miss, old Veren will give ya good lodgings. Especially for one so pretty as yourself." He smiled and Dmara felt herself colour. She gave the man's cheek a graceful pat before summoning Qui-gon and Obi-wan to follow her. The man tuged at Qui-gon's sleeve as he passed.

"She good stuff that 'un make sure you take good care of her." he smiled roguishly and winked. Qui-gon just smiled softly more to himself then the man.

She's more then you realise. he thought.

Obi-wan was lagging too caught up in the wares and cries of those around him. Smells, sounds, sights surrounded him almost suffocating his senses. He opened his mouth to breathe in the warm aromatic air. The taste was suprising spicy, but there were other tastes as well, soft greasy ones and hard ones like tanned hides. Dmara was at his side again, her cheeks had a pink flush even under the make-up and her eyes sparkled. From the moment they had entered the city the guarded looke Dmara had always worn had vanished. She now looked daring, ready for anything that might come her way. A group of over dressed girls started to make eyes at Obi-wan. They smipered and smirked waving their little lace fans to get his attention, one bent slightly to reveal something of an over ample bosom. Dmara looked at Obi-wan and laughed as a slow red blush began to invade his cheeks.

"Evening ladies." Dmara said joyfully, she smiled as they turned away muttering. Dmara picked up his hand and began to lead him through the crowd to where Qui-gon stood waiting.

"You look like you are enjoying yourselves." he said, Dmara smiled guardedly.

"Obi-wan had a slight run in with some over amorus ladies." she said laughing Obi-wan began to blush again.

"There is the tavern." Dmara cried over the noise. The three picked their way through the crowds to get to the tavern. It looked like it had been piled on top of the other buildings. Qui-gon pushed his way through the door and into the interior. The place was clean and dry, people of both sexes loitered around with mugs in there hands. Or ate sitting or standing leaning against the wall. A balding fat man wobbled towards them.

'How can I help you?" he asked smiling. A shean of sweat covered his pink forehead, he was wiping his hands worriedly o

 

"I just wanted to...What I meant was...I was thinking...could I borrow your make-up?"

WHOOPS, WRONG THREAD!

Sorry, couldn't resist. (Smirk.) No, really, great post. The descriptions really made everything come alive, especially the smells. The lowing cow was a good touch, and the way the girls were ogling Obi-Wan and showing ample cleavage to get his attention was great. I like the way Dmara changes her demeanor here in familiar surroundings, which is typical human behaviour.

So...who are they fighting, if not the Jedi? Don't make us wait so long for the answer!

 

sorry, I don't. Anyway, I personally loved it. I saw Shakespeare in Love, and didn't really like it that much, but it was good. GLIL captured the same creativity, and , being a SW fan, I loved it (especially the way the force was inspired by an acid trip.)

 

Excellent post Kit'! And the Ides of March has arrived, errr, in a couple of hours anyway.

 

Sorry this took so long to put up!!! watching Ewan at the moment. YUM!! Anyway, Yes Jane I was hoping someone would pick up on that. Thanks for sticking by....

***

****


Why were memories the hardest thing. Dmara stealed herself against the onslaught of picture, sounds and smells. Damn Obi-wan! Why did he have to this to her here of all places. Dmara sighed abruptly the images wouldn't fade. Wouldn't go away, not until she told someone. She sensed Qui-gon comming to stand near his padawan. The sooner she told, the sooner the images would fade, wouldn't they?

//Don't tell them anything they don't deserve it.//

The voices which had lain dormant for so long were back to haunt her.

//She'll have to to tell them or her sanity will suffer.//
//What sanity, she gave it all up on the night that....//
//Shut up! Shut up I tell you!// Dmara mentally shouted at them but they wouldn't heed her they just went on.
//She owes them nothing, she should gain revenge.//
//Ahh, the old argument back to haunt us I see//
//What of it? It is the truth you know that as well as I//
//But does she? She has found a different side to them.//
//What is different to a murderer, underneath they are still evil//
//You are stupid! you show your ignorance little minded one. They are not evil, a murderer is still a person. Still a human...//
//But they are not human//
//No they are more, they are kind. Shut up, before you shame me further with your tattleing//
//She should still seek her chance it will come. And I claim the moment, when blood spills from the knife then we shall have our revenge.//
//What revenge, revenge is nothing but a word that you use to hide a hurt you cannot run from//
//Revenge is everything. Revenge is sweet//
//Even sweet things corrode away at one's soul//

Dmara realized that the Jedi were staring at her, their faces were a mixture of pity and kindness.
Let them choke on their pity. Dmara thought angrily I will tell them nothing. But it was too late. She couldn't stop the memories that threatened to drown her in their intensity. She went to move, to deny them, but suddenly her mouth opened and the words dribbled out.

"I.....it started so long ago, our history claims that the Jedi were responsible for the death of our elders. That they wiped out an entire population. Then one day a man came...he came and saved us all from the curse that was the Jedi. He was a hero, but he couldn't stop everything. Couldn't stop the hate that simmered just below the surface. The hate for the Jedi." Dmara spat the words out. "That term has always been used to incite the people, to bend them to the emperor's will. I heard it all my life, as a curse, a word to fling at someone when nothign else would do. As an excuse to excuse the unexcusable. As a taunt. There were some who didn't believe in what was said, like Julius, like my father. They were always put down by someone else excused as Jedi lovers." Dmara paused, she knew she wasn't making any sense. She slowed to collect her thoughts.

Slowly and carefully this must be planned out like a well planned drill. she thought. Dmara smiled slowly, more to herself then the enthralled Jedi. Her smile was tinged with sadness and regret.
"I was a little older the fourteen when the soldiers came to the village. They wanted to children and young adults between a certain age. They said they would only take one from each family. I was the eldest and a girl so therefore I was picked to go."

***
"You get in line there. Stop sniveling you little trollop."
"You won't cry for long my boy, tears don't work against the Jedi."
"Come on girl, there will be no time for this once you've signed up."
***

"They chose. Some went bravely they wanted to defeat these accursed jedi as the called them. Others went only because they were picked, or because their families couldn't pay the price. I went and I hated them. For what they had done to me, to tear me away from my family. I lay in bed every night thinking of ways that I would get these soldiers back." She breathed in slowly. "When we got there they

 

Excellent post! I can't believe that Dmara had to go against her own village. No, I can't believe how cold-blooded the Caesar is, murdering so many innocent people--and for what? Power?

I like the voices in her head and how Dmara realises that they are more than Jedi. They are kind. Great!

So what does Dmara do? Does she strike down her fellow villagers, or does she run away and hide somewhere until it's all over? Waiting anxiously to read more!

 

Oh my! What did she do? This is such a tense thread. Post soon, please.

 

Hi guys, I was just going to let you know that there might not be a post for a while because me computer just deleted my entire Mind Games file. Including the new bit.
Arghhhhh well there should be something up there soon. I'll retype during lunch.

Kithera

 

to the top...

I'll be waiting when you get back to post Kit'. Please come back and visit!

 

Sorry to hear about your computer eating your whole file but maybe this will cheer you up some. I was listening to one of my cd's that I hadn't listen to in quite some time and thought immediately of this piece and I just had to share it with you.

It's called the price of command and it is from Michael Longcor's and Emrys Atkinson's CD called Field of Fire.

This is the price of command.
That you must always stand alone.
Letting no one near,
To see the fear,
Behind the mask that you've grown.

This is the price of command.
That you must watch you're dearest die.
Sending women and men to fight again,
And you never tell them why.

This is the price of command.
That your mistakes are signed in red,
And that you will not pay,
But others may,
And your best may wind up dead.

This is the price of command.
O' the deaths that haunt your sleep
You hope they forgive,
and so you live,
with the memories buried deep.

This is the price of command.
That if you won't that others will,
So you take your post,
for each ghost,
you have a debt to them to fill.
This is the price of command.

My apologies if this doesn't have anymore relevancy to your piece. I must admit I have gotten dreadfully behind in keeping up with all of the fan fic I try to follow. So I am now setting off to go and catch up on this story.

Toodles,
Igraine

 

interesting cool.gif

 

You know Igraine, leaders who lead wars from behind the lines are always consitered more cowerdly than those who fight, but I think that song shows that it's not all peaches-and-cream for them either. Thanks for posting it.

 

Once I said that I would never become a Lwyn' a JOWK maybe but not a Lywn. JOWK joked that that would mean I would post once a month. Here is this months post..... Sorry it took so long

Thanks for the song Ingraine I might try to use it.

***

Dmara stopped in her tracks. Around her the soldiers kept scrambling desperate to get into the action. Something tugged at her sleeve and she turned to see Mus grinning at her. His smile faded as he saw her face and then turned into downright horror as he read the sign.

"Dmara?" he asked, but she didn't respond. Her mind was a reeling whirl of of confusion. This was her town, her town. Her parents, her frineds everything she loved was here and now she was being asked to destory it.

"I can't do it." Dmara shouted. Mus gripped both her arms and stared at her.

"You have to."

"I can't Mus, I can't kill them."

"Then don't. Dispatch the wounded, help the medics. Just don't kill them." Mus said in exasperation.

"What all this 'ere then. What is this soldier chicken or sommot?" The centurions' ill-bred voice cut over the top.

"Nothing, sir." Mus said back, Dmara had begun to shake. Animals were screaming in panic and their frightened voices were joined by human's yells and screams.

"Looks like yer seen a ghost. Cem' on I've got a coupler nice ones that won't fight back." The centurion leared at Dmara. Dimly she felt Mus push her to follow him. They picked their way through the crowds of fighting soldiers. The well-trained men had out-numbered the farmers, even so they were fighting back with anythign they coudl lay their hands on. Pitchfork, scythes and clubs joined the foray, a farmer rose to meet the centurion. The older soldier just laughed as he cut the young man down. A toddler was standing crying by its mother. The girl looked almost like she was asleep, lying peacefully on the ground, the only betrayal was the crying child and the bloody tear that rent her tunic. Another mother ran madly through the knots of soldiers a child in her arms, a soldier sut her down ruthlessly. Dmara looked desperatly at the blood soaked ground, there was young Bec, she was only twenty-five and from the looks of things heavily pregant. Besides her lay what was obviously her husband. Even in death their fingers were still intertwined. Dmara searched for faces: Marec, the baker, sweet little Haita and...and, her mind stumbled over what she saw, her father. His hand seperated from his body at the wrist. Dmara felt sick.

"'ere they are then. See yer got nothin to worry 'bout." The centurion pointed his blood-stained sword at the cowering captives. The women looked up from a curtain of hair. Blood smeared across her once immaculate tunic. As their eyes met, a shudder of realization swept through Dmara.

Mother?

The woman stared wide-eyed at her, the centurion was gesturing widly, for a few second Dmara couldn't work out what he was saying.
"Go on get on wiff it, yer stupid cow. Kill 'em."

"I can't." Dmara whispered. The centurion almost groaned.

"What good are yer then. You know the penatly for disobeying an order." he sneered.

Dmara was searching desperatly at ther mother's face. Her mother looked her once in the eyes before she mouthed. "Kill me." Dmara shook her head.

"Yer know if yer don't kill her. Then I'll git rid of yer before I takes care of 'er." The centurion said again.

"Kill me." her mother suddenly shrieked. "My husband is dead, my children all sold into slavery. Kill me. Kill me. I will pray for my murderer."

The centurion stepped forward to backhand her across the mouth. Dmara went to stop him and then paused, it was no good. This was her fate.

"So what'll it be then?" the centurion asked. As if in answer Dmara's sword scrapped from her scabbard.

//Forgive me mother.//

 

Hello?

Biggest revelation fo this story and no-one was around. OH well

starts studying anciet History back to the drawing board.

Kithera

 

Hi Kit!
Remember me, thought I'd drop in, I'm in a computer room for English. Well anyway, drop me a line sometime, e-mail me this story if you can copy the entire thing into an e-mail, because I can't stick around long enough to read it all, but what I have read sounds great.
seeya
lv
Nicckia

 

Kit' all that I can say is that I'm speechless.

Please most more soon!

 

Well! Good descriptions of the carnage, especially of the girl who looked like she was asleep. I liked Mus' suggestion that Dmara dispatch the wounded instead of kill the people that she knew. The old centurion just had to get in the way, didn't he, forcing Dmara to kill her own mother quickly and cleanly to keep her (probably) from a worse fate. Brrr, makes me shiver!

 

Like mouse2 I'm speechless. I can't imagine having to kill one's own mother. It makes Obi-torture seem almost painless.

[This message has been edited by HealerLeona (edited 03-29-2000).]

 

Hmmmmm....


Good storyline and premise, Kit'

 

That post was great Kit'! Killing one's own mother...disturbing.

I'm hoping for more soon!

 

Ohhh she had to kill her mother how horrible.
If I were her I wouldn't have done it though.
Nope sorry.

Good story Kit now post more. LOO

 

People jump to conclusions too easily. This post is really iffy....but I couldn't just stand by and watch as Dmara killed her own mother....could I?

Signing off with an evil laugh
Kithera

***

"So you killed you mother?" Obi-wan broke out incredulously. "You killed your own mother."
Dmara shook herself out of a daze. She must have kept talking even while the memories flashed. She must have told them?what would they think of her now?

//Why do you care?// the voices queried
//Because I care what they think. What I have been told was always wrong// Dmara answered vehemently.

She turned to Obi-wan irritation clearly showing on her face.

"It wasn't like that. Don't be so stupid. I never said that I killed my mother did I." She snapped. Qui-gon reached across the scarred table to lay a comforting hand on her arm.

"No," he affirmed, "You didn't. What did happen?"

***

"Well whatter yer waitin' for den?" the old centurion said sharply, Dmara stared at her mother. Her arm was trembling with the effort to hold her sword up, and her legs were beginning to shake.

//I can't do this. I can't...// She thought desperately. Something hissed through the air and the centurion sunk to his knees. Dmara glanced down to see the feathered shaft of an arrow sticking out from his neck. Another arrow struck just near her leg.

"Get down!" Mus yelled. Dmara stood in a daze for a few seconds longer before he tackled her to the ground. An arrow had struck him in the arm.

"Get down, and stay down." He whispered sharply. Around them people were standing in a dazed confusion as arrows hissed through the air, occasionally accompanied with a rock, or branch. Dmara crawled towards her mother until her mother's groping hands reached her hair.

"Oh Dmara, Dmara." She whispered. "I didn't think you would desert us. I never realized it would be like this?" Dmara reached over to pat her mother's hands.

"What will happen to you?" Dmara asked desperately, her eyes were stinging and her throat felt sore and dry.

"Slaves, I guess. One of the soldiers joked that they would have their pleasure of us."

Dmara felt sick, and defiled. Privately she vouched that she would kill the soldier who had said that.

"Here." Dmara reached into her boot and pulled out the long silver knife that her father had given her. "I want you to keep this, use it if you have to. Only know that I love you mother." Dmara smiled hard and swallowed. Her mother stored the knife away.

"Thankyou. Your father would have been proud of you." The unspoken message of love remained in her eyes as Dmara moved to get away. The barrage of arrows was lessening now as soldiers got up into trees to grab the unsuspecting archers.
"Dmara." Her mother whispered, snatching her daughter's wrist for a second. "Promise me one thing."
"'ll promise you anything mother." Dmara said softly
"Revenge. Revenge on the Jedi." Her mother face twisted savagely. Dmara nodded and her mother let go.

Dmara surged to her feet. The archers were being manhandled across to the older prisoners. The four nine year olds grinned nervously at their elders as they were bundled up and the quivers of arrows stored with the rest of the booty. There was a shout from a soldier and suddenly the group of soldiers were running across the ground towards the troop of female prisoners. Dmara joined the stampede. Her mother lay on the ground, her arms folded around one of the young girls.

All of them were dead.

Felling vile Dmara grinned to herself, trying to keep the tears at bay. She had probably stopped her mother from a worse fate, the comfort though a small one was enough to keep her from crying. Mus came up behind her and put one comforting arm around her, his other arm was bandaged against his chest.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. Dmara resisted the urge to burry her face in his shirt.

"You're hurt." She whispered.

"Yes, not as bad as some." He said meaningfully, the old centurion was being bundled into a cart. "Lets go find Karen. She hasn't come in off the battlefield yet."
Dawn was just breaking over the horizon

 

Not iffy at all! Good action, well-thought out! Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon both reacted in character. I liked the way the old centurion got it in the neck! Keep going!

 

"I need a drink." Dmara said abruptly. The two Jedi looked up in suprise, Obi-wan slide hurridly out of his seat and filled a glass with water. He pushed it back across the table towards Dmara. The stocky teenager lifted the glass between to fingers and inspected it.
"Something a bit stronger then water." She said sarcastically. She stood and made her way towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Qui-gon asked from his seat.
"You don't expect me to survive on water do you? I'm hungry, and thristy. Even Jedi must drink occasionally." Her cat-like smile re-appeared for a few seconds. "Hurry up." she called as she slid out the door.
'She implies that she killed her mother, then backflips the story although her mother still dies. Then in the most intersting part she stands up and declares that she's thirsty. Master, have you ever had the feeling that Dmara is slightly bewildering." Obi-wan said as he followed Qui-gon out the door. Qui-gon laughed silently to himself.

*

"Three pints of ale." Dmara called cherrily to the bar-tender as they sat down.
"Jedi don't drink." Obi-wan said as he sat down.
"I never said they were for you." Dmara shot back, "And two waters." she called winking at the bar-tender. The man nodded, a slight grin creasing his ruddy features for a dew seconds.
"You never told us who you were fighting." Qui-gon pointed out quietly.
"We were never told. Not offically that is. They were kind enough to bring out a 'jedi', he was the town drunk. One of those harmles people you have known since you were a kid. They gave him a sword painted so it looked like it was blue and then they excecuted him." Nothing but cold emotions filled Dmara's words. "No-one was fooled, except for the few loyalists who believed anything they were fed. One of the soldiers told me that it was the moment they killed those nine year old archers that he stopped believeing."

Dmara paused as the five mugs were set down in front of them. Dmara handed over the money to the waiter. "Whose in power now? We've been on a holiday. and politics cahnge so quickly these days." she asked sweetly
"That must have been some holiday, miss. The Caesers gone soft they reckon. He's just a puppet controlled by this guy named Marcus."
"Marcus?" Dmara echoed faintly
"Yeah, heard he was some kinda soldier before he wormed his way into the Caeser's affection. They have been having a lot of parties lately something about a war against the Jedi. Like to be invited to one of those, hey miss."

"Yes, I'm sure it would be very nice." Dmara said softly.

"As far as I can see it is all a lot of nonsense." The waiter said.

"What's a lot of nonsense?"

"All this jedi stuff. I mean they can't be that bad." The waiter smiled at Dmara. Obi-wan was trying to hid his grin in his mug. Even Qui-gon was smiling. Dmara grinned coyly at him, she opened her mouth to ask another question.

"Oi! vitenius are you going to stand their all night, chatting up pretty young ladies or are you going to serve. DOn't you listen to him miss, he doesn't know what he's talking about." The bar-tender interuppted. The waiter, Vitenius shot from his position and scrambled back towards the bar. Dmara grinned at Obi-wan.

"Are you going to drink that? Or just stare at it." she said. Obi-wan shot her a dirty look before sculling the contents. A moment later Qui-gon was smaking him on the back as Obi-wan coughed violently. Tears smarting his eyes he glanced darkly at Dmara who was choking on her beer.
"That was hardly water.' he spluttered
"No, and your hardly a Jedi. Lets see if your master does any better." Dmara challenged. QUi-gon smiled and lifted his glass in a mock salute. A downed the liquid in one gulp, tears came to his eyes but he grinned at Dmara.
"See that is how a real man handles his alcohol." Dmara said to Obi-wan. The boy looked annoyed for a second before his face lighted up.

"Bar-tender another one of your "waters' thanks." he called. As the drink landed on the table Obi-wan pushed it towards Dmara.

"Your turn." He called. Dmara measure the glass with her eyes.

"Too e

 

All right! There's more! Dmara is a sneaky little thing, isn't she, telling Obi-Wan it's water and then POW! I'm glad to see that tears came to Qui-Gon's eyes as he tried the same trick. The part where the two "old hens" were cackling together was very informative. And now Marcus! More, more!