For the Glory of Yun-Yammka

Pain is penance. Pain is payment. Pain is repentance. Pain is sacrifice. [Independent Star Wars OC. Yuuzhan Vong. Icon credit: hallowedartists.tumblr.com]

[nofalternofailure]

( started reading the NJO series again. couldn't stay away from this blog forever. might peek into the swrp community and see if I get any bites. )

[thatgalpal]

[nofalternofailure]

beastlybountyhunter:

   “Am more dhan formidable. Am deadly woman. I own dhat. Became strong after I was weak for too long. I stand for others now dhat can’t stand for self.” She purses her lips, as another staff member working the bar that neither Yeshuo or Jade were familiar with, interrupted the Twi’lek mid sentence to nervously assure the both of them that their dishes would be out soon.

    Which is good timing, considering that she can hear the body of the man who sat next to her protest in need. Wouldn’t be long until the body would start to go on strike and refuse to perform as efficiently until it was taken care of, she supposed. That is, if his body worked anything like hers. Jade herself couldn’t function on an empty stomach all too well. Not many could, and there’s a reason why food supplies are so valued in wars raged throughout the galaxies. 

   Charcoal black lips purse again, biting her bottom lip in thought as she finds herself staring at him for perhaps a minute too long, until she realizes it and shakes her head, snapping out of that momentary trance.

  “You stay for night weeth me, leave by morneeng. Haff good meal tonight, dreenk a leettle, dhen sleep for come morneeng time. Rooms haff nice bathrooms. Can clean yourself up for night, too. Look as eef you need eet.”

   The Twi’lek takes a deep breath, before exhaling just as deeply. “A man once gave me same kindness when I was younger and scared. Back dhen I hated men. Hated dhem for what happened to me. But not all are bad. Remember being confused how someone could help me, but he say, ‘do not question eet.’. So I stop asking about kindness. Eenstead, I just say ‘thank you’ and promise to pass on kindness no matter who eet ees. Deep down, we all suffer and feel pain. Should not be dhing dhat makes us fight, our pain, but eenstead should unite us.”

   “But eet ees easier to be selfish and superficial about complicated dhings. Leaves less guilt.”  She’s almost certain that the cheating man who will end up with a bullet between his eyes would have liked to have been here for this speech.

   “Sorry, am rambleeng.”

He just listens as she speaks. Yes, she is rambling; if the mood between them was as it used to be long ago, he probably would have cut her off by now. But things are different now. The decades feel like they are catching up with him. The weariness is a blanket that hangs upon his shoulders, luring him into a still silence. Yeshuo props his elbow against the countertop while he listens to speak of kindness, of suffering and unity. And of guilt. At the mention of that, the Yuuzhan Vong closes his eyes, and he actually finds himself nodding.

If not in agreement, then at least in understanding. His people have always found unity through struggle and sacrifice and suffering.

Yeshuo collects his thoughts before he speaks. This is the longest he's just sat and talked to anyone in a time he cannot measure. His eyelids crack open, just a little. Dark eyes focus on the Twi'lek again, and he's looking over her like she's a stranger. Like she's not the same person he met years ago.

But then, neither is he.

     " Kindness is a hard thing to find, and a harder thing to hold on to. In your galaxy and in      mine. From the second we are born, my people are cut off from it. Babies are not      suckled, not held, not touched by their mothers, to say nothing of their fathers. We are      assigned a creche, a routine, and a purpose. Orderly. Simple. "

The Yuuzhan Vong stops to take a breath. Cruel as it was, the worldship was home-- is home, and he always can feel his heart tug in its direction when he speaks of it.

     " Kindness is as foreign to me as anything else here. I have only known it once. Briefly.      And then it slipped through my fingers, no matter how much I tightened my grip. "

Does he want to say more? Of course. He has never spoken the name of the one that haunts him to another, never divulged the nightmares that plague him at night. He shakes his head, trying to fend off the nagging thought like a bantha shrugs off a fly.

     " It is not for me. For you, perhaps. But not me. "

[griesly]

Visit Original Link

[notsurewhattonamethis]

Visit Original Link

Deftones | Change (In the House of Flies)

“Give you the gun

Blow me away…”

[animatedtext]

[wnq-quotes]

Listen — are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?

Mary Oliver, Have You Ever Tried To Enter The Long Black Branches

Read more at wordsnquotes

(via wnq-quotes)

[muzik-tavsiyesi]

Visit Original Link

[wordsnquotes]

hiraeth

(hɨraɪ̯θ), noun | A Welsh, untranslatable feeling, hiraeth is loosely described as a homesickness for a home you cannot return to anymore or a place, which never even existed. Connotations of sadness, yearning, profound nostalgia, and wistfulness are imbued into the state of hiraeth. Overall this beautiful, but painful longing is a an expression of an empty desire and grief over a past life or place. It is the ultimate signifier of a bond, which has ceased to exist.  (via wordsnquotes)

[hapesblooded-deactivated2018053]

@nofalternofailure

“ You are alone here, and I am not.”

A violent, swelling hatred ran through the young jedi. The Yuuzhan Vong ravaged everything they touched; every planet, every person, everything. A lot of people had died already, and the Jedi were scrambling to find a way to defeat them. They weren’t able to felt in the Force. So what good were they against them?

[nofalternofailure]

A Jeedai. That was easy enough to tell. Even without the sight of the saber on her belt, it was everything about her: all Jeedai carried themselves like that, so proud in their godless devilry.

Nearly half a century later, it still sickened him. He was an older man now-- tired, worn, the white film over his eyes more pronounced than ever-- but he could still fight. The amphistaff coiled around his arm slithers into his palm, baring its fangs with a rattling hiss.

     " Then kill me. If it is what you want so badly, Jeedai, give into your hatred. The honor of a      good death is its own reward. "

[nofalternofailure]

beastlybountyhunter:

   Two little… What?

Alright, well, she’s not gonna ask about what he’s talking about. It’s clearly a comparison to something. Long lashes flutter as emerald eyes meet his own gaze, with his that gave different vibes from her own. They’d say that eyes were the gateway to the soul, and if that were any bit true, then Yeshuo surely has been through hell and back more times than he’d like to count. There’s suffering and pain, but there’s also a desire to live, primal instincts heavy at the forefront of his psyche.

   “Target ees cheateeng husband. Wife wants revenge. Wants head delivered to her. Said she plans on putteeng eet on mantle in house.” Whether or not the woman who was paying generous amounts of money for her cheating spouse who stuck his dick in one woman too many other than her was being serious, Jade wasn’t sure. But that wasn’t any of her business, and in the end, it all came down to getting paid. The thrill of the kill was the real reward, but the credits were nice, too. 

   It leaves her to give him another gentle pat to his hand, leaving it there up until the woman from before goes past them again, still avoiding eye contact with the two of them as she brings another guests orders out to the far end of the bar. Whatever it was, it was a hot meal judging by the steam coming from the dish, and the aroma was strong. Spicy. But it was a good smell. 

   “Once I am done, weell be leaveeng tomorrow. Old man ees supposed to check in later tomorrow. Plan to lure heem een room and keell heem queeck.”

   The jingling of bracelets on her other wrist is lost among the conversations in the crowd. She’s tempted to fiddle with them out of nervousness as she instead opts to run her fingertips across the counter top. 

  “Am assumeeng dhat you weell be gone come tomorrow morneeng, da?”

Infidelity. He's tempted to laugh at the little joke of it all, of infidelity in an infidel galaxy, but Yeshuo doesn't want Jade to think he's laughing at her. That little revelation-- that he actually cares what this woman thinks-- catches him by surprise. It's unexpected. So he simply nods, holding eye contact with her. If there is pain in Yeshuo's eyes, there is sadness in Jade's; it is the steady accumulation of years of being disappointed.

     " I expect as much. Staying in one place for too long is an unnecessary danger... You      and I will both be better off the sooner I can get out of your lekku. "

But would he really? The little voice chirping in the back of his head is beginning to annoy him with its second guessing. He is Yeshuo, esteemed warrior and expert assassin of Domain Shai, and assassins do not need friends. The sooner he could resume life sans Jade, the better.

Just one night. Just one.

His nostrils flare as they catch the scent of the dish; it only serves to remind him of the last time he ate. That morning. A gorg, hastily stolen from its tank. His stomach rumbles-- audibly-- and he puts a hand over his abdomen, willing it to be silent. The staff has passed them a few times now, avoiding them, and Yeshuo is beginning to feel his temper mount.

     " I wish you good fortune with your mission tomorrow. Although I doubt you will need it.      You are... quite formidable. For an infidel. "

[shareaquote]

Every person I’ve ever loved has some how become toxic to me. A living, breathing reminder of why I was always better off alone. I love too hard, too quickly and then sometimes I don’t love enough. I guess I’m just bad at love.

Kristie Betts (via shareaquote)

[tainted-crown-deactivated202509]

Visit Original Link

so cold | breaking benjamin

[soundstoliveby-blog]

Visit Original Link

Danzig - How The Gods Kill

[dailygiger]

H.R. Giger

[drownerrs]

Visit Original Link

[nofalternofailure]

beastlybountyhunter:

   No, he doesn’t deserve such kindness. He’s likely stolen the lives of many individuals who had loved ones, and she doesn’t doubt that there’s that some innocents that have taken their last breath, done by his hand. But Jade herself is no saint, either. She’d killed plenty people who had never did a wrong thing in their life–they were just usually really successful and hated by someone else who was willing to pay out a lot of credits for their heart to stop beating. It was amazing how much someone was willing to pay for someone to stop existing, but that’s what made her job so successful.

   Lately? Jade herself has lost someone dear to her. A certain person in her life, someone who she knew. Not long after said dear person vanished, another important presence in her life was swiped right out of her life without a trace. Plenty of tears have been shed, and this was probably the tenth mission she’s been on in the span of a 365-day year. Out here on different planets, years varied. It made it easier for time to blur together, for memories to mesh together and become harder and harder to differentiate from one event to the next. It took her months to be able to finally come out of her house, plenty of flings and drugs and alcohol to numb herself of the pain that came with loss.

   And loneliness caused desperation. Desperation egged on generosity and lured in kindness. She can sense his unease, and maybe it’s not a good decision for her to make, seeing as how he’s violent, and he’s rather harsh and rugged, but there’s something in her that makes her take that risk– Her hand slides across the top of the bar counter, and gently tries to find itself on the top of one of his hands. 

   “Eef you want honesty, you are good fuck. Handsome man. Very nice lookeeng. Strong.”

   “But eef you want more reason, am senseeng troubled man. I too, am troubled. We have sometheeng een common. Maybe dhat ees why.”

It's like a drop of water to a man who's been dying of thirst. For so long, Yeshuo has paid his dues through pain; his skin has been so scarred and twisted by both battle scars and self-inflicted penitence, even the Ooglith masquer cannot disguise them. For twenty years, his flesh has not known a gentle touch. But now Jade's hand is on his, the soft pressure and warmth of her bare palm on the back of his hand. He can't suppress the tremor that runs through the musculature of his arm.

Oh, yes, they have both known loss. The years feel like they've piled on, but Yeshuo can still remember the mission. The one he failed, when he was dragged kicking and screaming into the panopticon of the Republic prison. He can still recall the Clone Wars-- the steady thump-thump-thump of marching feet, metal and plastoid, and the woman who he promised he would keep safe from the fury of it all.

The one he failed. The one he killed.

Jade's hand is not like Thea's. All the same, he cannot bring himself to yank his hand out of her grasp. He is too tired, and her hand too warm, too gentle, too needed, although he will not say so. So for now, he leaves it be.

     " Like two little yorik-et without a worldship. Perhaps I have underestimated you.      Perhaps... "

He murmurs it, then trails off, just barely loud enough to be heard amongst the gentle chatter of the inn's patrons. It is one small concession, but it is something. Perhaps he likes the idea of someone in his life actually giving a damn. He clears his throat and raises his voice.

     " I accept your answer. And your offer. For one night. Now tell me about this... target. "