RPlog:A New Ally

West Blake St. - Plaxton City Lined with meticulously groomed Vilinias Shade trees, Blake Street unrolls towards the coast. Park-style benches sit under the trees, making this area seem like an ongoing extension of Fountain Square. The Pula trees creeping from the beach have been allowed to occupy a few spots on the sidewalks, and a few buildings of prominence have disturbed the natural look of this district. Thick, dark leaves fill the branches of the trees, and some of the edges are beginning to turn red. Occupying the skyline to the north is 'The Oceanside', with its entertainment centers and resort-like hotel accomodations, topped with the famed Club Infinity. To the south, a new road has been cut through the thick forest of Vilinias trees. The morning sky above is clear.

The Players: Kyyel, Jessalyn (disguised as Annalise)

Kyyel As you look over this human, the first thing you can tell is that he stands tall, a little bit under two meters in height. His build and movements are that of an athlete, or at least someone who keeps in shape. His head is covered by light brown hair, which is brushed straight back; the ends coming to rest just under the bottom level of his ears. A pair of deep gray eyes look out from his face, staying focused on whatever they are looking at. His face itself holds sharp feature; yet cannot help bring to mind pictures of rogues... as this man's lower face is covered with a good amount of rough-stubble. Under all that though, there is normally a smile; warm, and good natured. Kyyel wears a deep black shirt, which covers his body from neck to wrists. The only variation to the shirt is above his right shoulder, where a dark brown shoulder-pad rests; no usage or defense is apparant by it, it seems just simply part of the style. His hands are covered by a pair of gloves suitable for piloting or fencing, technically crafted within to give support and padding in all the right places. The exterior of the gloves looks to be of the finest of tanned nerf leather, dyed a deep, dark black. On his legs, a pair of light tan trousers run down, each leg with several large pockets that can be used. The pants fit loosely over the human's legs, apparantly giving him full freedom of movement. On his belt rests a holster for a heavy blaster, and on the other side, is an ornate scabbard, obviously for a sword. The scabbard itself is made of black carmteek leather, and over that is laid silver olumite, drawn out in intricate patterns over the leather. On his feet, a pair of worn, but still quite serviceable boots rest. Their coloring is a mix of dark browns and blacks, and seem to allow for the most ease of movement possible.

Annalise There is a lost, haunted quality to the pale green eyes of this young human woman, a complex expression upon her pale features that imperfectly hides something which burns inside her. Her hair is almost as wild as her eyes: a shimmering, bright shade of silver bordering on white, cut short with bangs and somewhat longer layers that curve around her cheeks and end just above her slender neck.

She wears a typical, tattered spacer's jacket, with a form-fitting, sleek black jumpsuit beneath that shows off her long-legged grace, slim hips, and narrow waist. A well-worn utility belt circles her waist, a blaster holster slung low on one thigh. Her movements and mannerisms are calm and precise, but do nothing to call attention to her.

*****

As the sun begins to clear the horizon from the ocean; the sky thankfully clear this day, the residents of the city begin to go about their daily tasks. One human though, stands near the streets leading to the beach, gray eyes looking out towards the rising sun with a faint smile resting on his features. Chin lined with a hint of stubble, the man holds a relaxed stance, seeming to take a moment to simply enjoy the view that is presently given to him.

She hadn't really meant to come this way. But then again, she wasn't happy at all that her "adventures" had brought her back to Caspar at all. Not so soon, anyway. Being here only reminded her of how fleeting her happiness had been, how deluded she'd been to believe in love and the future again. The beach, especialy, she tries to avoid, not wanting to think about those curling, powerful waves that she had learned to ride, the lighthouse visible to her mind even from here, the pleasant, airy seaside inn where...

No, she could force those memories back. She could keep them from crowding in on her and drowning her in despair. So intent is she on her internal struggle, that the girl calling herself Annalise barely notices anyone around her, blending into the throngs of people on their way to do their business for the day. When she glances up and sees the singular man stopping to gaze out across the ocean, she gives pause, frowning deeply and unable to keep from following his look. It was so peaceful, so different from the turmoil in her heart. Realizing she might collide with him, she steps deftly to the side, mumbling, "Good morning."

As he hears the greeting, the man slowly turns his eyes away from the sunrise, and shifts them over to view the woman standing alongside him. In greeting, he gives a warm smile, followed by a slight decline of his head to her, "Good morning..." Kyyel's eyes shift back up to look to meet the woman's; gray meeting green. After a moment, he tilts his head to one side, noting lost look to them. As he sees it, Kyyel's own eyes flash with a hint of rememberance, even as he looks back towards the ocean again, "It's a beautiful sunrise...."

Annalise's lips quirk into something resembling a small smile, but the emotion never reaches her heart or her eyes even as she looks toward the sunrise. "Yes," she says in automatic agreement, unable to appreciate the beauty of the view as he does. If anything, she resents it. The alteration in her soul makes her remorseful as she wonders what had happened to that innocent girl she had been. "Lovely," she says in a flat tone, looking around now for a means of escape. She was only out and about for a singular purpose, and small talk wasn't one of them -- if anything she was making a fatal mistake by speaking to one of the locals.

Shifting his gaze back towards the woman again, Kyyel's smile returns faintly, even as he hears the flat note to her words. Not looking for any way of escape or flight, instead the man simply speaks again, his voice calm, "It's not often that we get to see a sunrise lately," his gray eyes shift up, even as he reaches a hand to brush a bit of hair from his face, "Lately we've had near constant rain," shaking his head once, Kyyel's eyes fall back down to look at Annalise, the smile still there. "Guess you're appreciating it while you can," Annalise says distantly, the lovely rose-gold of the morning light reflecting in her pale emerald eyes. They are still reddened with misery, the tender flesh surrounding her eyes bruised with fatigue -- she has yet to remedy her appearance with makeup, but can't bring herself to care. Drifting her fingers through the short spikes of her blond hair, she smiles grimly. Her vanity had been snipped off along with her silken red locks the night before. "Is it already the rainy season? I'm an outworlder, so I'm not too sure about the weather here on Caspar."

A faint chuckle escapes Kyyel's lips, and he sighs again gently, "Unfortunately, Caspar's rainy season lasts nearly all year. The climate here is pretty tropical," his eyes look at her face again; noting the reddened, tired eyes. He pauses briefly before he speaks again, "So how long have you been here on Caspar? Did you just arrive?" he keeps his voice soft, and friendly, even as he lifts a foot to rest it on a nearby bench, allowing the man to lean down on his knee with his arms.

Annalise had assumed her appearance and overall aura were such that people would either ignore her, or be adverse to talking to her at all -- especially considering the hideous hack job her companion had done on her hair. Pursing her lips, she tries to lapse into something resembling a normal conversation. "I've been here a few days," she mumbles. "Though it's not the first time. I spent quite some awhile here a couple of months ago." Why was she mentioning that? Ugh. It was not easy playing undercover. It would be much easier to simply avoid all contact.

Sensing his more discerning gaze, Annalise bends her head and stares at the toes of her scuffed leather boots. Her Jedi poise must be completely gone, she tells herself. Appropriate.

Seeing her look down to her boots, Kyyel lifts his gaze again, instead simply regarding her all together now. While many would have ignored the woman, and shunned her; that's never been Kyyel's way. At her words, his smile widens, friendly and good natured, "Really?" taking a chance with himself now, Kyyel extends his gloved hand out in greeting, "My name's Kyyel, it's a pleasure to meet you Ms...?" he takes care not to push the question; he's often seen people such as this... and often times, they may not want to give that information. The woman shrinks back from the offered hand, head lifting up slightly to meet Kyyel's gaze. It takes her a few seconds to extend her own slender, pale hand to his, and give it one firm shake before withdrawing. "Annalise," she answers simply. Nice to meet you, Kyyel." For the first time she gives him a longer look, amazed at his height after her long associations with much shorter men. "I'm uh... I'm just a tourist."

His own shake is firm, even as he pulls it back along with hers, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Annalise," Kyyel meets her gaze still with that same kind smile. Moving his hand back to his side, his smile changes for a moment into a boyish grin, before returning to the faint smile, "Tourist, hmm? Have you come to see the temples then?" "The beach," she answers instantly, but regrets it. What? What a fool she was for not plotting her explanations before venturing into public again. His kindness makes her stomach twist with guilt, and she returns his gaze solemnly. "I like to go surfing. Sometimes." But there's no excitement in her voice, and she tears her eyes away to look toward the ocean again. The sun was creeping higher now into the sky, tendrils of light reaching all the way from one stretch of horizon to the other. Without trying, she can sense the awakening minds all around them, people impatiently making their way to work, getting children ready for school, or just relaxing before a day spent at the beach. She resents all those people, wanting to block them out, and fills her consciousness with her physical senses instead: the feel of the cool wind on her skin, the salty breath of sea air that clings to her nostrils, the cries of seabirds and the hum of repulsorlifts in the distance.

"What's this about temples?" she asks innocently, as if she's never heard of them.

As she turns her eyes away, Kyyel's face goes awash with concern for a moment, but he holds himself in check, instead, returning the smile to his face; sincere in its appearance, "I've tried to surf on occasion... I never quite got the hang of it," he shrugs his shoulders once, before looking back out to the waters as well. For a moment, he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath of the scent of sea salt; and when his eyes open, there's a look of homesickness fading from his eyes even as he speaks again, "The temples are past the ocean here... past the next city as well. I believe they were dedicated to the Sarian god of wind... but I'm not too sure; it's been a while since I was there. I could show you, if you like?" the offer is made innocently, without any hints of any other motives.

"Thanks, but... I don't have time to do much exploring...." Annalise trails off, since that seems to contradict her earlier statement about being a tourist. Hastily, she adds, "I don't think we're going to be here for very much longer."

It's hard for her to miss his concern, wafting towards her so innocently. Almost viciously, she shuts herself off to the Force, resenting the bonds that seem to form so naturally with other people... people who have shown her compassion and care in the past, but who ultimately do nothing but tear her apart, leaving her to deal with the aftermath utterly alone.

"I take it you're not from Caspar, either?" she asks, already backing mentally away.

Shaking his head once, Kyyel's smile returns to that grin that appeared earlier, "No. I was born and raised on Corellia. I only came to Caspar a couple years ago..." he bites his lip slightly, almost unseen, as this time it's Kyyel who turns his gaze away. For a moment, the Corellian's eyes are distant, remembering a time past, and showing that pain has taken its share of time with him as well. When he looks back, the pain is gone, replaced with his kind gaze again, "Well, the temples aren't too far away. It wouldn't take too long," he pauses for a moment before speaking again, "By the way, are you hungry?" She begins shaking her own head in response to the question about the temples again, but the last question makes Annalise stop. She honestly can't remember the last time she'd tried to eat anything. During the trip in space here? Three, four days ago? It explained one reason why she felt so weakened, and why her ribs seemed to arch so closely to her skin now.

But the thought of putting food into her mouth is revolting, and she can't bring herself to try and conquer that revulsion in front of a perfect stranger. "Maybe some other time," she says non-commitally. "Really, I should be going. A... friend is waiting on me."

Frowning softly, Kyyel nods his head once, even though its obvious that he'd like to insist again. Even though he can see that it brought something to light. Smiling faintly again, the man nods once more, "Very well... but please, don't go just yet..." he misinterprets her actions slightly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry..." again, the tone of his voice speaks of nothing except true sincerity. Suddenly Annalise remembers Ash Seneal, the vile Baron who had plotted to destroy her and Orson while they were on Caspar, who had kidnapped Drew and ultimately met his end at her own hands. Paranoia flares in her belly, and she hates herself for reaching out with the Force to gauge this man's intentions, to detect any deception or subterfuge. Did he know who she was?

Eyes narrowing, she takes a step forward, shaking her head as relief washes through her wariness. She could sense nothing but sincerity, though the reasons for his kindness evade her. "You didn't," she assures him, glancing around and then giving him a conspiratorial look. "I can't spend too much time out here, you see," she whispers, turning her head aside when a stranger passing by pauses in his path to look at her. "I'm sorry --"

Unaware of the probing the woman had just done, Kyyel leans in slightly at the look she gives him, and his eyes widen slightly for a moment at her words. Taking a moment to regard what she has said, he shakes his head once at her apology before it starts, "Don't be sorry... but..." he looks at her again, reading her face with the most mundane means available, "do you need help with anything, Annalise?" again, sincerity is at the source of his words, and his eyes show something that possibly could be rare in the galaxy. A person truly willing to help someone else.

"That probably isn't a good idea," Annalise tells him blankly. "You don't have any idea what you'd be getting yourself into." A rueful smile curves on the woman's lips, a genuine light entering her pale eyes for the first time in this exchange. "In fact, you probably shouldn't be here talking to me at all." But she takes his arm and moves into the shadow of a Pula tree away from the walkway, a far different expression falling across her features. If anything, she looks almost like a different person, the effort at disguise something apparently done through the Force as well as through more drastic measures like the cropping of her hair.

When she drops the veneer, she keeps her head lowered, knowing that it will be hard for him to see her face from his tall height, instead presenting him with the top of her silvery blond head. "Please don't tell anyone that you saw me here," she says out of the blue.

Surprise crosses Kyyel's features as he finds himself pulled under the shadow of the tree, and for a moment, when the disguise is lowered, a hint of realization comes to his eyes. Uncertainty crosses the Corellian's face for a instant, before he nods his head once more, resting a hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, "I won't tell anyone. I promise. But the offer still stands... if you need help, I'm willing," if you were to look, you'd see flashes of thoughts, focused around one thing in his mind, 'Always help if you can...' the voice isn't Kyyel's, but instead, a faint hint of a female tone lies in it. After another bit, Kyyel's smile widens into a faint grin, "Besides... people have been telling me that for years. It's never stopped me from offering or helping others before..." Annalise shakes her head, not understanding his willingness to help. Why should he trust her? Even when she had the full cloak of the Force about her, and her being was permeated with the calm of a Jedi Knight, she had rarely come across someone so eager to help, without knowing anything about her. The last person to have given her such confidence....

Another painful memory. She's beginning to wonder if she has any other kind.

"I appreciate your offer. But like I said, I can't do that to you without you knowing what you're getting into. And I'm afraid I just can't... tell you the truth." The once proud chin tips upward as she gazes at him, a shadow of her usual self visible beneath the insane hair and stricken expression.

Shaking his head again, Kyyel's smile remains, though it fades slightly as the man grows thoughtful at her words. As she lifts her gaze to him, he looks down once more, regarding her features... and the shadow of something else behind it all. When he speaks again, his voice has a softer tone, "Then tell me what you can..." his smile turns a bit wider, still kind, "I'm willing to listen." he doesn't shift his gaze from her, focusing his attention instead. No, she tells herself. You're not going to do this again. Gritting her teeth together, Annalise looks away, reaching out a hand to drag her palm down the rough bark of the Pula tree. "No," she says aloud this time, a quiver in her voice. She swallows it down. She couldn't trust anyone, no matter what her instincts tell her.

"I'm sorry," she says again, eyes brimming, and she backs away, almost stumbling in the sandy soil. Memories descend like demons, haunting her, sapping her strength. It takes all her effort to keep from either sinking to her knees or fleeing headlong, but her lack of energy wins out in the end.

As she starts to fall, Kyyel moves almost before he realizes what he's doing. Scooping his arms under hers, he sets Annalise up on her feet again, keeping her steady against him as he watches her knees seem to just fail on her, "Don't be sorry..." he all but whispers it, concern alight in his eyes as he looks at this woman; it's evident that whatever has happened to her, she's gone through hell. Managing a secure grip, he sets her against the Pula tree, making sure she's steady, and still keeping a hold under her own shoulders, even as his eyes regard her with a gentle gaze, "Whatever this is... trust me, I can be of some help..." even though he's unsure if that help is just a meal, a place to stay, or something more. As strong arms set her aright, Annalise has to fight back her initial reaction -- which is to push him away with all the strength of her mind, so repulsed is she by the physical contact, the care and concern. Who did he think he was? He had no idea who she was, certainly, some bizarre stranger with a painful past who had stumbled upon him this day.

"You'd just be getting yourself into trouble, too," she warns him, going rigid where he has her pressed against the tree, and she clenches her fingers into her palms. "Trust me. You don't want to be an exile, too."

Smiling faintly now, Kyyel shrugs his shoulders, looking down towards her again, "Maybe. We can never know what the future holds. Besides... I've been an exile before in my life," even Kyyel is unsure why he offers the help, but as he looks at the woman, all he can see is someone in need, and someone who might need his help. To not help her would go against everything he's been raised with, and everything he believes in. "Tell me what you can Annalise." There was something familiar about his insistence, about the certain way in which he regarded her and his need to help. It was disconcerting, reminding her of the Order that had abandoned her.

Or had she abandoned it?

Jerking away from his grip, Annalise steps to the side, her spine straightening, and her eyes blazing defiance. "I'll tell you that I'm no one to trifle with. I've been cast out because I'm a failure, and I'll never be able to return to those who loved me and taught me. I'm here with someone as foul and twisted as I am, because there's no one else to take me in, no one who understands what has happened to me like he does. I'm not dragging other innocents into this mess I've created again. That was my mistake in the first place. If you're as wise as you seem, you'll run as far away from me as you can."

As she pulls away, Kyyel pulls backa bit... listening with intent eyes. As she speaks further... his eyes begin to grow cloudly, and with a single shake of his head, he takes a step forward, speaking with a voice barely above a whisper, "You feel like you've committed the ultimate sin; that everything you did is unforgiveable, unredeemable. You feel that your failure runs at the deepest, most primal level of what you believed in. You feel that there is no place you can ever call your home again," as he speaks, Kyyel's words come from one thing alone... experience. Each word holds the corellian's truest sincerity, and a smile, thin and barely there, emerges on his face as he shakes his head once more, "If you were as foul and twisted as you claim... then you wouldn't see what you've done as a failure. Please, let me help..." Eyeing him resentfully, Annalise tries to ignore the resonance she senses with the words he pours forth, each statement making her take a further step backward. What did he know about the Darkness she had descended to? She was as certain of her corruption as she was of anything else. How would he know what levels a supposed Jedi could sink to?

"You don't understand," she whispers, unrepentant, fighting off his compassion as if it were a living thing trying to snarl around her. "You don't understand what I really am."

Shaking his head once more, Kyyel speaks quietly, "You're right. I don't understand what you really are. It doesn't matter to me though..." his eyes still hold their compassion, and he takes no steps towards her as she begins to step back against the tree again, "I do know that if you go with this 'friend' of yours... you'll end up being what you think you may have become... please Annalise, help me to understand, and let me help you..." now he does take a step forward, hesitantly, "I wasn't lying earlier when I said I'd been an exile before. I know what it's like to feel that everything you once believed in, and everything that you ever knew, has abandoned you. I know what it's like to feel that despair..."

"Stop it," she cries out, finding it more painful to hear those words spoken than to listen to her own mind reminding her of their truth. When she backs away, bumping into the tree this time, she blinks and moves aside so that her reversed path actually moves her further from him. "Stop! You don't know anything!" Ashamed at losing her composure, Annalise pivots on her heel, unable to face this stranger, and a few moments later she disappears into the crowds that throng through Plaxton City's walkways.

His face growing into a mask of sorrow, Kyyel sighs heavily as she disappears intot he crowds of Plaxton, and he bites his lip, waiting for a moment to see if she would return. After he sees her depart, he sighs heavily, and then begins to move closer to the beach, the sun rising higher still in the morning light.