RPlog:Reflections and Revelations

The early wisps of dawn are just beginning to show, wafting through the windows. Paul is sitting on his bunk, his books and research put away for a change. Instead he is cradling Shenner's guitar and singing a song softly.

The piece has a sharp tangy quality, the guitar strings jangling lightly. It is more reminiscent of a piece of folk music than his usual classical style. The lyrics are sad and almost pleading, a strange but somehow fitting contrast to the determined melody of the guitar.

A stone's throw from Jehaerasum, I walked a lonely mile in the moonlight. And though a million stars were shining, My heart was lost on a distant planet, That whirls around the April moon, Whirling in an arc of sadness, I'm lost without you. I'm lost without you. Though all my kingdoms turn to sand, And fall into the sea, I'm mad about you, I'm mad about you...

Jessalyn is in a deep sleep upon one of the narrow bunks, but as the light begins to shaft through the window and onto her face, casting golden glints off her dark red hair that is tousled over a pillow, her lashes tremble slightly and she turns restlessly. Hearing the music of the guitar and the soft voice riding over it, her brows knit fretfully, and she finally opens her eyes.

Paul's gentle tenor voice rings softly through the barracks as he sings quietly. The words burn through the air though, as if carried by tongues of fire.

And from the dark secluded valleys, I heard the ancient songs of sadness. But every step I thought of you, Every footstep only you. And every star a grain of sand, The leavings of a dried up ocean. Tell me, how much longer? How much longer?

They say a city in the desert lies, The vanity of an ancient king. But the city lies in broken pieces, Where the wind howls and the vultures sing. These are the works of man. This is the sum of our ambition. It would make a prison of my life, If you became another's wife. With every prison blown to dust, My enemies walk free. I'm mad about you. I'm mad about you.

Jessalyn rises on one elbow, squinting into the bright morning light, hair wild around her pale face. She looks over at Paul, listening vaguely to the words but still looking like she's half-asleep.

The sunlight turns Paul's hair gold and amber as he play, the planes of his face cast with shadows. His face is almost fierce with concentration, his hands sure and powerful on the strings. There is a haunted look about his eyes, and his brow is knit and he continues on with the song, as if it were a stream that he must ford through.

And I have never in my life, Felt more alone than I do now. Although I claim dominions over all I see, It means nothing to me. There are no victories, In all our histories, without love.

A stone's throw from Jehaerasum, I walked a lonely mile in the moonlight. And though a million stars were shining, My heart was lost on a distant planet, That whirls around the April moon, Whirling in an arc of sadness, I'm lost without you. I'm lost without you.

And though you hold the keys to ruin, Of everything I see. With every prison blown to dust, My enemies walk free. Though all my kingdoms turn to sand, And fall into the sea. I'm mad about you. I'm mad about you!

And the song ends abruptly on that last word. Paul remains still for a moment, holding the guitar like some men would hold a lover.

Jessalyn pushes herself to sitting, cross-legged, the blanket draped across her lap. She pushes the disheveled hair back from her face as she continues to gaze over at her friend, eyes still swollen with sleep. The morning light sinks those eyes into shadow, highlighting the fine, sun-glossed bones of her face.

Paul remains still for a long time, as if absorbing the music and the guitar into his body. Then he starts to get, looking at the guitar with a wry bittersweet expression. He sighs and addresses the guitar as he puts it back over with Shenner's stuff, "Well, it looks like we can be friends after all, huh?" He turns around, raising his head for the first time to the rest of the room and stops dead when they capture Jessalyn's upright form in their casual sweep. Paul's frame turns back to his stuff and then after a moment, as if he had been considering whether to speak at all, his voice says gruffly, "I'm sorry that I woke you up. I should have gone somewhere else."

Jessalyn shakes her head slowly. Her voice is sad when she finally speaks, though somewhat muffled from sleep. "No, it's all right. It was lovely."

Paul nods brusquely and sit back on his bunk, pulling out some of his research and sorting through it idly. Every so often he pauses and looks back at the guitar, then shakes his head and continues to rifle through his books, occasionally responding to the chirrup that his computer serenades him with.

Jessalyn sighs quietly, casting Paul a small, sad glance, and she leans over the bed to pick up the large cloth bag sitting in front of it on the floor. She rummages through it until she finds her hairbrush and sends it through her hair with furious strokes, purposefully not looking at Paul.

Paul's gaze occasionally strays to Jessalyn, growing soft and a little hurt. He tries to return his focus to the work at hand, but then growls out in annoyance, "Oh just forget it," and closes the computer with a sharp clack, to which the computer squeals, almost as if alarmed at his temper flare. Paul begins putting his stuff away and then stands up and reaches for his leather jacket.

Jessalyn pulls something light green and silky out of her bag and slips her arms into it, only glancing at Paul from the corner of her eyes, slightly alarmed by his tone, as she ties the sash around her waist. She swings her legs around the edge of the bed and slides her feet into velvet slippers also retrieved from the bag. "Something bothering you?"

Paul stops in mid reach for his jacket, then snatches it up and swings it over one shoulder. "Yes, I mean no, no everything is just fine thanks." His eyes studiously avoid looking at Jessalyn. "I just need to take a walk and clear my head is all."

Jessalyn smoothes her hands over her thighs, finally turning her full regard to Paul, eyes narrowed with worry. "Need to talk about it? I do." The words are soft and uncertain.

Paul begins to move away, his mouth opening as if to say "No" when Jessalyn asks him if he needs to talk about it. But, when he hears her voice say "I do," he stops and his mouth shuts. He stands still for a moment, eyeing the door like it was salvation. "Really?" he asks, his tone mild, but there is a definite undercurrent. "Last I heard I only cause you grief."

An audible sigh can be heard from the red-haired girl. "At least let me say I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice miserable.

Paul's gaze finally turns to Jessalyn's, a trace of hurt lingering in them that he quickly squelches. His gaze travels over her face for awhile, touching on all the landmarks, as if he had missed her lovely features. He takes in her sad eyes and lets out a soft oath, reaching out with one hand as if to touch her face. He lets his hand drop and stares at the floor for a moment. "What is there to apologize for? You spoke your mind and the truth, and that is that. What more needs to be said?"

Jessalyn: Rainforest green eyes return your gaze, followed by a brilliant smile that lights up the features of this slender Those green eyes shine with humor and contentment, set into a face with pale skin and wide cheekbones, and her hair is a shining dark red that falls in unruly silken waves around her shoulders.

Jessa is wrapped in a thin, light green silk robe that falls to her knees, and which conceals the darker green nightgown beneath it. Her hair is even wilder looking than usual, as if she has only just woken up and hasn't had a chance to make any sense of it yet. Her long legs are slender and bare, her feet slippered in green shoes, and her skin is pale and marked only by two high patches of color on her cheeks. Her eyes blink drowsily as she smiles.

Jessalyn tilts her head slightly as she returns Paul's gaze. "But I never should have said anything to hurt you." Her green eyes are troubled as she sits with hands clasped in her lap.

Paul looks to the floor and then up to Jessalyn's face. He skims her features again. "Well that's immaterial, isn't it? For one, it's already been said, and for another it's the truth isn't it? I generally find that the truth hurts no matter how you dress it up."

Jessalyn turns her head slightly away, shrugging. "The truth is you were only trying to help me, and I've been an inconsiderate bitch." She lifts her chin finally, meeting your gaze with her own. "Forgive me?"

His hazel eyes burn into yours and you notice for the first time that there are little green halo's around each of his pupils. He nods slowly, never taking his gaze away from yours. "You are forgiven, of course Jessalyn. Still, you had every right to be angry. I wasn't helping, I was meddling ... and badly at that. I had no right, and I'm sorry." He sighs softly and looks down again. "However, that still has no bearing on the fact that I do bring you nothing but grief."

Jessalyn chuckles softly, and reaches out her hand toward you. "That's not true, Paul. I bring grief to myself. It's not your fault."

Paul watches as Jessalyn's hand reaches for his own and he offers it to her, palm up, for the taking. Softly he murmurs, "Well, then I guess that's something else we have in common, huh?" His eyes raise to yours again, almost a little shy. You see a flicker of something in his gaze as his eyes skim up your form to meet yours, an appreciation? Attraction? It only lingers only for a moment before it is smothered.

Jessalyn lets her fingers slip through yours and squeezes gently, smiling up at you. A hint of color rises on her cheeks as she chuckles. "I think we have a lot more in common than that," she replies in her gentle voice.

Paul's eyes grow soft, caring. The edges of his lips curl upward in the slightest of smiles. He returns your hand's grip. "Yeah, I think you're right," he murmurs softly. "We are so alike in some ways, it's as if we were once soul mates, ripped apart at birth."

Jessalyn looks up at you with surprise, but continues to smile. "Hmm. You might say that," she replies, almost shyly, and squeezes your hand again. "Guess you -have- to forgive me if that's the case."

Paul's smile grows into a grin and he crouches down in front of Jessalyn. "Yeah, I guess I will," he replies. He then chuckles a bit. "Lucky for us I already did awhile ago, huh?" He watches her face, taking in her smile and then with a soft sigh, he leans forward, pulling her hand toward him and embraces her with a hug.

Jessalyn returns the hug fiercely, relief flooding her. "Good, I can't stand to have any more conflict around here than there already is." She pulls back, clasping his upper arms and studying his face, almost as if for the first time. She wets her lips, looking down shyly now. "Things have been so strange lately. I haven't been myself."

Responding with a hard hug in return, Paul lets Jessalyn draw out of his arms, leaving his hands resting lightly on her hips, but is suddenly acutely aware of her touch on his arms. He nods carefully, dissecting this new awareness of Jessalyn ... the softness of her figure, the silk of her hair, the flash of her eyes. He watches her face, the subtle nervous gesture and feels a slight tugging that he hadn't been aware of before. His eyes respond to his thoughts. He stares at the top of her head and softly responds, "Yeah, you've been pretty busy lately with a lot of weird stuff ... and I don't think I've had so much emotion in my life since I was five ... " he pauses and adds as an afterthought, " ... or maybe twenty."

Jessalyn rubs her hands lightly over your arms, her eyes warm and smiling. "I know what you mean," she says quietly, only the faint flush on her cheeks revealing her awareness of Paul's intent gaze on her. Suddenly embarrassed at her attire, she shifts nervously, casting you a tiny, shy glance.

Paul catches Jessalyn's nervous shift and sets himself back on his heels, his hands trailing from her hips, along the length of her legs and finally onto his knees. It isn't a deliberately sensual touch, but just the path of his backward motion, but it is light and feathery. Paul's eyes look down to the ground, a response of shyness showing in his own gaze. A slight flush touches his cheekbones.

Jessalyn smoothes the silky fabric over her thighs, gazing down at you. She forces her expression into calm lines as she leans slightly forward to touch your shoulder. "Hey, I'm glad we've gotten this out in the open," she says softly, the exact meaning somewhat dubious.

Paul raises his gaze up to Jessalyn's, his gaze catching the motions of her hands and he swallows carefully. At her touch he goes still, as if absorbing the touch, the weight of her hand, and analyzing it. "Yeah," he responds a little huskily. "I wasn't sure how any of it was going to work out." His response is equally vague, and his eyes reflect a measure of surprise and awareness.

Jessalyn's soft grasp on your shoulder strengthens for a moment, before her hand slides away to rest again in her lap. Her hair falls along her shoulders as she tilts her head to one side, eyes roving carefully over your expression, curious and shy all at once. "Well.. we made it in one piece at least." As these words fade, she winces slightly, but does not comment on the source of her discomfort.

Paul watches as Jessalyn's hand drops away from him. Meeting her gaze her probes her expression for a clue of what she might be thinking. His own gaze is a mirror of all of the questions boiling under his surface. Were it not for his minute attention, he might have missed her small wince. Hesitantly he reaches out with one hand and places it on her knee. "But?"

Jessalyn shivers slightly as your hand rests on her knee, more from surprise than anything else -- though a tad of nervousness as well. Distracted, she shakes her head, then mumbles, "Well.. I just mean.. most of us made it back without a scratch. But not..."

Paul's eyes dawn with comprehension and he flushes in embarrassment at his obtuseness. "Oh right, I see. Well, it can be fixed, and has been before," he notes lamely.

He withdraws his hand and begins to stand up.

Jessalyn nods slowly, casting about for something -- anything -- to change the topic. "Yes..." Her brows furrow as Paul rises and she lifts her head. "What is it?" Her hand rises up again to touch his sleeve.

Paul stares at her hand on his sleeve for a moment, now becoming acutely aware of Jessalyn's every move. He shakes his head slightly, realizing that he is seeing things where there is nothing to see. Jessalyn loves Luke .. end of story. Paul likes Jessalyn, and it's just as simple as that. Get it straight, he thinks to himself. His eyes move to Jessalyn's concerned ones, and he gives her a smile that doesn't quite penetrate the questions mirrored in his eyes. "Ah, I thought that I would give you a chance to get dressed or something, and I'd get that breath of fresh air to clear my head," he replies.

Jessalyn's touch moves casually from Paul's sleeve to his hand, clasping it gently. "I appreciate your.. your company," she says in a soft voice, and when her eyes lift to look at you, the same terrible emotional struggle flashes in them for a brief moment. "I... I hope you'll come back." With that she pulls him toward her so that she can wrap her arms around yours, pressing her cheek against the fabric of the sleeve, closing her eyes.

His perceptions jangled from their previously stated positions, Paul stares down at Jessalyn's head. Her hair spills over his arm and he can sense every single tendril. He allows her to draw him closer and he raises his left hand tentatively for a moment and then allows it to fall gently to her face. He strokes her cheek in a sweet and gentle caress and murmurs softly, "I'll be back ... I'm not really going anywhere ... just outside." It occurs to him that she might be referring to the future as well, and adds, "... and I don't think I'll be leaving your company any time soon."

Jessalyn turns her cheek automatically into the caress, smiling softly. Still grasping your arm in an almost needy, hungry movement, she looks up at you with those conflicted, shadowed green eyes. "I'm glad. Be careful. I'll be here when you get back."

Paul's eyes darken slightly at Jessalyn's response to his touch. He smiles at her warmly, feigning a confidence he doesn't feel. "Don't worry," he replies, "this is no Palahni," and his finger continue their gentle exploration, moving up to her brow and hair. "But I'll be careful nonetheless ... for you."

Jessalyn smiles at the touch, looking relieved, like a weight has been lifted. Sighing softly, she rises to stand next to you and leans up on her toes to press a kiss to your cheek. "I'm glad we're all out of danger," she whispers, then steps back, running her hands along the smooth silk covering her arms.

Paul smiles back, enchanted by the small kiss that she bestowed upon him. "Me too ... I don't think my adrenal gland could take much more excitement." He runs his hands down his torso and then touches his right arm where Jessalyn had been clutching at him briefly. He seems to regain a certain amount of footing and he grins at Jessalyn as he begins to turn for the door. "And did I happen to tell you that you look fabulous this morning? Very sexy." and with that he heads out, whistling softly under his breath.

Jessalyn blinks with surprise, and her cheeks flush bright red at Paul's parting words. She smiles slowly to herself and pushes her hair back from her face as she moves to rummage through her bag once more, chuckling softly.