Aftermath: Uncommon Grace

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

OOC: Open By invite, please PM me if interested.

Times Like These

I am a one way motorway
I'm the one that drives away
then follows you back home
I am a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
burning off alone

it's times like these you learn to live again
it's times like these you give and give again
it's times like these you learn to love again
it's times like these time and time again

I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
to hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
do I stay or run away
and leave it all behind?

it's times like these you learn to live again
it's times like these you give and give again
it's times like these you learn to love again
it's times like these time and time again

Foo Fighters

Vandor-3 Coruscant Sector:

Adelaide sat to one end of the wicker settee, the soft floral print of its cushions all but lost in the brilliance of the sunlight streaming through the window and into the airy reading room. The sunshine itself was lost on its watcher, the vacant eyes impervious to its beauty and the speckled dust motes that rose in its candescent streams swirled and dipped, ignored.

The weeks had passed and Adelaide had drawn even more remote than when she had first arrived on Vandor-3 in the company of Eliessa Corta. No smile came to her anymore, words were becoming a forced acknowledgement whenever someone addressed her, which was an occasion growing more and more rare. No one knew what the hell to do about her. She didn't know what the hell to do about her own self.

She couldn't sleep, everytime she closed her eyes.....

".......My legs...." he said...

The spurting of blood came as a shock and Adelaide drew back in horror. What else had she been expecting? Crei strangled out a cry, but it was barely audible and did not register on Adelaide at all. She looked at her hand, red blood spattered over it and partway up her arm. She was horrified at the brilliance of its color and the heat of it. Warm, she had not anticipated that.


.....Adelaide took the blade to Kimiiki's throat once more and with a will, resumed her purpose, sawing back and forth, the blade biting into the soft yeilding flesh, back and forth, back and forth...

Even waking, she saw it. Smelt it. Blood...and fear have an awful stench that accompanies them. Del blinked slowly..the images, the scents, even the sounds replayed to her over and over, cementing deeper into her psyche and she was finding it harder and harder to claw her way back to the surface and a life that was still left to her.

Someone was standing behind her, she felt the shadow fall across her.

She should apologize. But what does one say? Sorry Im becoming a frelling lunatic as I sit here in your lovely home?

It was Eliessa. Del could tell by the judgment she was certain the woman was passing on her. Why had the Old Man sent her here, of all places?

"You have a visitor" the Judge announced.

Adelaide did not respond.

Inside, she was screaming.

No, not a visitor. Please. Frack.

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta had fallen into her favored comfortable posture - one that was well associated with her amongst her peers and those who visited her in her courtroom - a ramrod-straight spine with an air of cold dispassion, companions to a candid, penetrating gaze.

The girl was floundering, threatening to sink under the weight of her inner turmoil and, apart from assigning a psychiatric professional to dismantle her and put her back together, Eliessa was at a loss to help.

Jason had warned her of this.

And Corta had been careful to watch for the signs, though such wary vigilance had not been necessary - anyone with the sense of a gungan could see the downward spiral. It is why the Judge had not delayed in sending for him. Jake would know what to do.

She hoped he would know what to do. Time and a safe haven were not proving nearly enough.

Eliessa was still ignorant - deliberately so - of the events that led to Adelaide being placed in her care, but that she had suffered some great trauma was obvious. And Corta had her own suspicions, but for the sake of her position and moral duty, had declined delving deeper into the matter. The Old Man had solicited her help and that had been enough.

"Did you hear me?" Eliessa prodded, not unkindly.

She scared the girl, she suspected. Corta scared alot of people. She secretly enjoyed the fact. But not in this instance. She didn't know how to bridge the gap and felt anything she said or did would only increase the girl's anxiety. Eliessa had never really been good with the nurturing - her own daughter was a dismal example of that exercise in maternity.

Adelaide didn't respond and turning away, Eliessa shrugged defeatedly to Russard as his twi'lek nurse, Lissel, wheeled him silently forward.

[Old Man Russard]

Lissel maneuvered the wheelchair into the room, bringing it to a stop beside where Adelaide sat, and then withdrew. Del still faced forward, gazing out the window but appreciating none of the serenity the view afforded. The Old Man looked at her askance, the brilliant blue of his eyes lit like ice on fire in the reflection of the sunlight. Those eyes, clear and piercing and not dimmed a whit through age, assessed in mere seconds the turmoil rioting beneath the blank canvass of Adelaide's features. He silently cursed his idiot son and that damnfool Kazaar yet again - the pair of them as useless as trousers on a Wookie.

Jason removed his gaze from Adelaide to join her in also looking out the window. A sprinkler was on, jetting intermittent streams of water across the lawn and onto the gardens, creating rainbows in the tumbling spray of the waterdrops as they rained down. A chrono on the wall could be heard, its rythmic ticking a comfortable sound, company to the ambience of unhurried leisure the day room was designed to encourage in its occupants.

When he spoke, his voice was gentle, unobtrusive. Adelaide had almost forgotten his presence, he saw, as she flinched slightly at the broken quiet.

"You cant forget it" the Old Man stated with certainty.

Adelaide blinked slowly once, her brown eyes beginning to swim almost immediately, but otherwise, she displayed no other response remaining stiff and still.

"And so you shouldn't" he added with conviction. "Not ever."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

The wall chrono ticked softly, counting off indeterminable minutes that hung like heavy drapes between the two seated. Russard had much to say, was formulating the "how" of it while the girl's long silence dragged. When she did speak, he almost didn't catch it, being engrossed as to his own dilema of breaking through her oblique detatchment.

"He's all I see" Adelaide said in a whisper. Jason turned to look at her, the blank stare was still in place, but he knew now that was a misconception. What Adelaide was seeing, she saw vividly in her mind's eye.

"Crei. He eclipses everyone. The people here, Aurelias," she turned now, giving Russard the full benefit of her stare, "..Bren. I cant even see my boy through him"

The Albino's face, pale and torpid, his eyes rolled up into their sockets so that only the whites show. His lips drawn back in a rictus of fright, and the blood. So much.

For the frantic, near-panicked way Adelaide had attacked the Albino, it did not seem possible that she would register so finitely every detail of the incident. She remembered acting in a rage, blind as some might coin the phrase, but there was nothing blinding about it. She saw everything, recalled everything, so completely. Her mind making still frames - the Crimelord's white hair cascading about his head like a spiked halo in some iconic image as he lay sprawled and naked at her feet, the flare of his nostrils as he breathed his desperate last gasps, the tile on the bathroom floor - even the way the grouting turned red as Crei's blood seeped along its shallow grooves, making symetrical patterns in its wake.

"He's all I see" she repeated, her voice thick with the phlegm of bitterness, startling Russard in its venom.

[Old Man Russard]

Russard took in her measure, appraising her in much the same manner a Grandfather would a small child who had, through their own willfulness, done terrible damage to themselves - and felt only pity and an overwhelming desire to ease the hurt.

He knew he had to be strong for her, to pass to her his own resolve and unbreakable spirit. He knew what it was to do things that made a man ashamed, things that might crush a weaker, gentler soul. And he knew how to survive them. The key, was to take the help offered you. A wise man knows this. A fighter knows this. He can recognise his own limitations and, having suffered a sound beating, will take the time to heal and learn why he got beat - then take measures and train against it ever happening again. Survival is a learned skill, not simply an inherit one. A survivor is made by the very thing that threatens his demise.

"You're not alone in the blame of all this, Adelaide" he said, his eyes hard. "Your hand struck him down, but it was the Albino's own actions that placed that blade in it. He is culpable and got what he deserved."

She sat very still, he knew she was looking for the lifeline he was throwing, but as yet she had not grasped hold.

"Its done. And its well done" the Old Man continued. "You now have a choice to make. The Judge can help you build a new life. I can too, Jason, Kazaar - any one of us can do this, but only if you choose it. We all - with the exception of Eliessa - would have taken Crei, though I believe she would have had she known the story. Your husband actually went as far as shooting him a few times just incase you missed a spot" He smiled, the so-called chauffeur was thorough if nothing else.

The Old Man took Adelaide's hand, holding it tightly insomuch as it began to hurt her a little. He wanted his next point to sink in.

"Take responsibility for what you've done. And why you did it. The why is the most important thing" he said sternly, "The right of it will take care of those images in your head. Time will prove its true. Bren is still there (he pressed two fingers to her heart) and what you feel for him is still the strongest force you'll ever know."

[Eliessa Corta]

The Judge sat in her office, door closed, glad for the time being to relinquish her duty as watchman to the Kasperian-Kazaar girl.

This added responsibility Jason had brought her was just 'one more thing' Corta had to juggle in her long list of duties. The announcement of the new Empress and some of the disturbing reports that were coming, almost daily, to her now of incidences regarding various Moffs and their varied degree of sudden changed fortunes were demanding her response. The Inquisitoriate, or whatever they went by, were being busy lads.

She did not really have the time, nor the patience, to mother some crumbling stranger disintergrating beneath her roof while the Imperial guard ran rough-shod over citizens rights.

Eliessa removed her spectacles and pinched finger and thumb to her tired eyes. It wasn't that she didn't have compassion for Adelaide. She did. The girl had struck a chord of sympathy within Eliessa that was rarely rung, and the unfamiliar twanging was discordant enough to make her loose sleep at night. It was just...such very poor timing.

Beneath her desk, Corta slipped her toes from her shoes and massaged them against the thick floor rug.

"Give me the latest from the Judiciary Office" she directed, and her comp-sec program initiated, listing on her desktop vidscreen at a respectable 156 wpm, the latest dispatches from Imperial Center. Corta replaced her glasses and read, looking up reluctantly only when some time later, after a perfunctory knock, her office door opened and Jason Russard allowed himself in. She lowered the screen discreetly and asked, "Well....?"

[Old Man Russard]

Russard gave her a non-comittal shrug of his shoulders.

Eliessa was not satisfied, "I'd expect that response from someone touched in the head -- you're not touched in the head, are you Jason? Old age hasn't finally scrambled your faculties has it?"

"Nooo" the Old Man returned, stiffling a grin. That's the Eliessa he remembered - brusque, to the point, and loathe to suffer a fool no matter who they may be.

"Then give me a respectable answer when I ask it of you." She pushed her glasses deftly to the bridge of her nose and peered at him like a well-dressed raptor.

Jason steepled his fingers in thought before answering. When he did speak, it was with a quiet confidence that Corta was well familiar with.

"She's about as broken as a person gets" he admitted solemnly. Adelaide had been slipping around in the filth that Crei had dragged her and Bren down too for so long now, her perspective had altered. Six months on Ord Mantell, coming back to kill Crei, the deed itself - everything had joined together in conspiracy of dispair and violence, seeping into who she really was and skewering her outlook so that all she could see was darkness, inside and out.

"But she has mettle, Liess" he added, his use of an old endearment softened Corta's gaze and bridged time between them like no other one thing could.

"Will she make it?" the Judge asked, forgoing nostalgia for the worrisome present.

Would she? It was a good question.

"She needs to find the beauty again"

"Beauty?" Corta repeated, was he kidding her? "And how does she do that?"

"Through you" Jason said, surprised. "How else?"

[Eliessa Corta]

Corta's first instinct was to protest. She was too busy, she was too abrassive, she was too--. She had been thinking too 'important' to be distracted in the redemption of one hapless stranger and she felt suddenly embarressed for such arogance. Jason had arched an eyebrow, the way he did when waiting for some lesser wit to stumble into his domain and say what he'd been anticipating them to say. Eliessa's words died in her throat.

Adelaide needed help, a chance to resume who she really was. To take back everything that had been stripped from her by awful circumstance and peice it back together. She needed exposure to better things than she'd lived through this past year. From what the Judge had gathered of the little Jason had divulged, Adelaide had spent more than enough time in the underbelly of crime and corruption that was rampant in this galaxy and needed to see - to know - that there was better out there. And, for whatever reason, that could not be accomplished within the wings of the Russard Estate. Eliessa pondered why, but came up with no plausible explanation.

"You know I have things to do" she said, lamely.

"I know" Jason nodded.

"Things are heating up with the announcement of this new Empress and Im busy with--"

"I know" the head nodding became more emphatic. Damn the man.

"She probably wont even want to sta--"

"She'll stay" he cut in.

Corta fell silent and she and Russard exchanged cool stares.

She tried a second feint, "I'll be travelling alot"

"Mhm" Jason switched to absently pulling at his sleeve cuff.

"There'll be appearances, meetings I have to attend"

"Sure" he flicked at an invisible lint ball.

"She doesnt even have any clothes" It was pathetic now.

"So, you'll do it" Jason said, it wasn't even a question any longer.

"Of course" Eliessa replied, knowing the words were unnecessary.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Grace - a kindness or forgiveness given willingly to the undeserving. Adelaide had always known its meaning, but had never needed its quality as she did right now. And it was being given, freely, by those who would gain no advantage from doing so, who had no obligation nor reason to give it except that they could. Del closed her eyes and tried to allow the comfort of that grace to wash over her.

It was a warm blanket to a frozen soul and Adelaide pulled its folds about her with a stiff and uncertain grasp, hopeful that she might feel its heat, even just a little. Would this truly pass? Would these horrible visions of Crei recede to a dark little corner of her memory? Would Bren return to her? Would he even want too?

The thought of her son brought fresh shame to her and Adelaide squeezed her eyes tighter to shut it out. It didn't work.

She wanted to believe Old Man Russard and that what he'd said was true. It was this desire that would save her many times over in the months to come. This, and Eliessa's forthright manner that would settle for nothing less than moving forward. They, together, were her redemption and were providing a way for her to crawl back from the abyss. Two people whom Adelaide could do nothing for or repay nothing with, who hardly knew her yet were willing to save her anyway.

It was an uncommon grace and unexpected. It would be the difference in Adelaide surviving her own vengence. Yet with everything they offered her, the safety of this house, the understanding and compassion of non-judgment, her road to healing would be tenuous and not easily won - and only time would tell if grace would be enough.

[Jason Russard]

Russard Industries Office Tower, Imperial Center

Jason moved from his place of contemplation in front of the window of his corner office, the sound of the intercom "blip" pulling him from his reverie. 118 floors up in the prestigious R-Con Building (the name short for Russard Conglomerate) Jason had a dazzling view of the cityscape and its ceaseless activity. The late afternoon sun was beaming against the dirty glass, it would be the end of the week before the cleaning crew made them sparkle once more. And even then, they would just start the whole process over come Monday morning. Such were the inconveniences of the Coruscant Megatropolis.

"Yes...?" Jason queried, depressing the 'talk' button. A youthful, feminine voice advised him that Roger Phillips was on the other line and was "..wondering if you have confirmed the Invitation list he send you..?"

"Invitation list?" What list she was talking about escaped him, momentarily.

"Yes, the Invitation list for the Celebration dinner in honor of Empress Tarkins ascention. He says he gave it to you last week and--"

"Yes, yes of course." How could he forget? Well, he could forget because his head had been full for the past few weeks of Adelaide and Kimiiki Crei and Aurelias Kazaar and of the blood on his hands.

"Mr Phillips says he needs the list confirmed so he can settle security arrangements for your Estate and--"

Jason broke in once more, "For goodness sake, Jasmine, put Mr Phillips on would you?" What was wrong with the girl? "Roger! Yes, sorry, I know you are waiting. You can pick up the list at 9pm from the house. I'll have it finalized by then. Good. No, you're not disturbing. Yes, I understand the logistics, must be a headache for you. Ok, thanks Roger. Good bye."

Russard pushed his hands into his pants pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. The last thrice-damned thing he wanted to do was host a fancy suare for the who's-who of Imperial Center. All these formalities seemed but trifles of life compared with what he'd experience the past month, so much had been at stake for everyone involved. Little Bren's death, Kazaar's injuries, Adelaide...the attack on Crei, the rescue...his father's wrath. A dinner party seemed a tad trite in comparison.

He had expected his father to be of the same mind, but the Old Man was still business savy enough to know that now was an opportune time for consolidating business ties and the establishing of new associations. It was just smart business.

Jason, unthinkingly, meandered back over to the corner window, looking out but not really seeing much. His father was probably on his way back from Vandor-3 by now. Jason wondered how she was...if she asked after him...

He turned back to the desk, once again depressing the 'talk' button on the intercom. "Clear my afternoon, Jasmine. I'll be working the rest of the day from home."

"Yes Mister Russard"

Jason shouldered himself into his suit jacket and collected up a number of accounts files and let himself quietly out of his office.

[Old Man Russard]

Russard Estate - 2145 hours.

The Old Man was seated in the wheelchair, engulfed in his greatcoat and had his hat pulled low against his brow to ward off the evening chill. Lissell, his Twi'lek nurse wheeled him up the drive and activated the hover-drive to maneuver the chair up the stone steps to the front doors of the classic mansion. Flanking behind them at a discreet distance, was the Old Man's personal security staff -four individuals who had been in the Russard service for years. They entered the grand foyer just as Phillips was taking his leave.

"Oh! Mr Russard, good evening!" greeted Phillips, "So nice to see you!"

"Hello Roger" the old man greeted in turn, "Still after that promotion are you?" he said, miserly in his charm.

Phillips laughed heartily, "No no, Mr. Russard. Just finishing some work. You have a pleasant evening" he said cheerily and let himself out, smiling. He loved the Old Man. And the old bastard knew it.

"That kid's a pain in the ass" the old man remarked to Jason who was coming the rest of the way down the stairs.

"You should fire him then, father. You've been saying you will for years" Jason took over from Lissell and wheeled the Old Man into the study for a nightcap and, hopefully, an update on Adelaide.

"I wouldn't be able to take the tears.." the Elder Jason jibed. "Everyone know's men called 'Roger' are sensitive types. Near the fire Jason, I got ice in my blood I think. He here getting the final Guest list?"

"Yes, I left a copy for you to see, but I think we've covered everyone"

The old man nodded. Phillips was a good man, the best at what he did--he was an organizational and logistical genius. Jason would never dream of letting him go. The company would collapse, he was sure of it.
"Anyone you've forgotten, Roger will let you know" the old man said with confidence.

A server brought them in a glass each of rum, the old man's was warmed slightly. A companionable quiet fell between father and son as both of them nursed their thoughts, along with their drinks, for a few moments with the only sound being the crackle of the fire as it consumed the stacked logs.

"She's close to being nuts" the Old Man opened bluntly.

Jason the Younger looked sharply at his father, the report like a knife in his heart. He didn't know what to say.

"Looks awful" the Old Man added, "Pale. Thin. Hair's all a riot."

Jason swallowed, his throat constricting as his emotions rose at such a haunting mental image of Adelaide and his contributing actions toward it. The Old Man could hear his son's breath laboring, and felt sorry for him. But not as sorry as he'd felt for the girl.

"I was trying to help--"

"Dont tell me that again!" the Old Man growled angrily from deep in his throat. "You didn't see her face."

Jason had the good grace to say nothing further in his own defence.

The Old Man downed his rum. "The Judge will help her though" he said, offering hope to his son, just as he had to Adelaide. "She couldn't be in better hands" and his assurance was encouraging. Jason knew what respect his father held for the Judge.

"You're not to blame for this Jason" his father stated again after falling into a brief silence, the burden of guilt easing just the very slightest from the younger man's shoulders. "But, you'll bear part of the price for it nevertheless. There's no escaping that, you understand." The Old Man gave his son a penetrating look, pressing his point and punctuating the inevitable with is intense blue eyes.

[Jason Russard]

Jason didn't want to escape his portion of payment. He would gladly take on more, if he could, to spare Adelaide in any degree.

"The rum's good" the Old Man said appreciatively.

Jason "mmm'd" an absent acknowledgement, drinking his down without really tasting it.

"Has Kazaar been to see her?" the younger man queried after a moment.

The Old Man shrugged, no one had said, but he doubted it. "Best to leave well alone right now, I'd say."

Again, the absent "mmm" from Jason.

"You'd be smart to do that too" the Old Man advised. "Leave it all alone for a while. Give things time."

Time. That, Jason had plenty of. The trick with giving things time was realising when it was finally time to act, and not leave things too late.

Jason was afraid that he may have done that already, that even now, he was far too late.