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the lucid disparity revisited
"Never be the first to arrive or the last to go, and never, ever be both."
By now, time has passed, and most of the crew have found some sort of comfortable groove with the natives of the unnamed island they crashed near. Partying, gambling and drinking, and more… Even the mysterious pool has given people who could answer its riddle insight in this confusing time. However, as the nights and days continue to progress and the parties begin to blur together, things are… odd. The hosts are still as kind as ever, offering anything and everything those at the temple-like building could ask for, but every so often, the world around them appears different. Clear, as if a fog had been lifted. Yet, it’s only a blink, and then, it’s gone, returning everyone to their regularly scheduled eternal party.
Down on the beach, the Captains are still as busy as ever working with those capable to restore function to the Moira. On the morning of the 20th, Navigator Manasseh’s vitals begin to slowly return to normal, her status on the Directory reverting to GREEN, and with it, life is brought back to the Moira. This, of course, means everyone is able to board the ship and leave, but most of the crew who traveled through the jungle and stayed at the party aren’t exactly willing to go just yet. Prior to this, a few of the crew who suddenly realized things were strange and that the people around them were acting strange - themselves included - approached Thán with this particular revelation, upon which Nathan Drake planned to bring back things from the temple to be tested for irregularities. Each sample returned to Cúrre does not alert her to anything abnormal, comprised of similar compounds—except for the water brought to her from the pool. Acting quickly, she reaches the same conclusion as a few of the other crewmembers do: that the water neutralizes the mysterious intoxication caused by everything on this unknown planet.
☄ FROM UNDER THE VEIL
The combined efforts of the crew and Curre have resulted in an “antidote” being made from the pool water; crew members pass it around to those down on the ship and beach, then utilize caution while administering it to those at the party. The change happens slowly for most. A drink that was perfect only a little while ago is suddenly sickeningly sweet and no longer enjoyable. The food tastes wrong. The music no longer urges you to dance but instead reminds you that your feet are aching. The magic is fading, and as it does, the cracks in the facade begin to reveal themselves. The elegant city built into the rocks is faded and cracking at the edges. Nothing is as it seems, especially the hosts. Their eagerness to please now has an edge to it. They try and ply their guests with new food, drink and distractions, but they know when the game is up. Do you try and slip away when they’re distracted, or do you demand to know why they’ve done this? Do you dare to find out?
☄ AS TIME GOES BY Crew have begun to filter to the beach, and as the ship reboots, its systems expelling water and allowing it to float on the surface, all Moira-connected technology refreshes. MID devices, to those who check, will show that a year has passed since they crash landed on this strange planet. Those that did not join the party would not have been aware that so much time had passed as the planet seems to be under the influence of a blurring of time, probably due to the fact it is so close to the Luminous Sea. Crew would have gone through the motions and not realized that supplies were dwindling, and anyone who has themselves looked over in the Medbay will discover that they are, in fact, physically one year older. With the Moira finally functioning and with everyone on board, the ship finally begins to ascend and leave the planet behind.
The Captains are all working together to get the crew settled back on board and help those who might need some adjusting to this particular news. Since it has been such a long time, fresh supplies are badly needed, and the ship is directed towards the closest known place: the Mini Colony.
( ooc; For questions, go here. )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-09-19 04:07 pm
cw: adult situations~
Sleep lingers, and there is no rush to Padmé. She is all too happy to remain where she is, nestled in the snug warmth around her. No where to go, no where to be, with her husband by her side... What more could she ask for? Their hosts have been most generous and she finds it silly that she once ever even thought that there might be something nefarious about them. No, she feels blissful and content, happy even. There is no weight upon her shoulders or upon her mind, as if the whole world is shrouded in a golden glow.
She is dreaming, wrapped in its embrace, until the butterflies come, dancing against her skin and her lips turn slightly upward. Yet up and up she rises, until her lids flicker open and her smile widens. Anakin. A soft hum is given as his lips brush against her skin and Padmé shifts, wiggling closer. A leg quests, sliding up against his own, savouring the sensation of skin on skin. He's a furnace, bright and warm, and she snuggles up to him, letting her fingers splay against his chest.]
Morning, m'love.
no subject
On principle.
There's an undercurrent of exhaustion that he can't push away, not mental and certainly not for lack of want, but a noncompliance of aching muscles. But even overburdened with exhaustion, the idea of sleep is too far away with the anxiety. He's awake and aware, and sleep is a hilariously futile and distant concept.]
Good morning.
[It sounds far more calm and level than he feels. She sounds like he does, trying to drag him out of bed when the alternative is to face a day outside of his wife's company. (It's indelibly flattering...or would be, if it weren't so worrying.) He wants this, he wants her, but even more, he wants to leave.]
We need to go.
[Less calm now.]
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Here? Well she is more than content to remained nestled up to him, caring not at all who might know. As for her though, she has no desire to move, and the lost little noise that is half groan and half pout speaks of that. So to does the fact that she seemingly burrows herself deeper down, having no desire to leave this spot just yet.
A hand trails up his chest, fingers grazing lightly against his skin and she tilts her head ever so to lay a kiss upon his neck.]
Or... we could stay here.
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I don't intend to leave you. [He tries to soften the blow before clenching his eyes shut and forcibly pulling himself out of bed. Stang, it's cold.] Here, however-- [He leans back in only to intertwine fingers with her own. He pulls, gently.] --something isn't right.
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Yet he's withdrawing, and it is clear that Padmé doesn't understand why. He isn't returning those kisses or those touches, and her brows furrow as he removes himself from the bed. Her mouth hangs delicately, a complaint on her lips that dies. Linking her fingers with his own, she doesn't budge with the tug, but rather tries instead to draw him back.]
The only thing that is not right is that you're not next to me, Ani. Come back to bed.
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Padmé.
[He feels that tug he receives in return, a tired, lazy thing meant to draw him from his worries. It may be what he wants, but it feels so strange, suddenly, how long it has been since they've been drawn apart as necessity so usually dictates. Stranger still how utterly calm his wife is about the situation when this is usually pulled in quite the reverse to little success.
Anakin quietly sighs and swallows back his own disappointment with himself as he pulls away, and starts to scan the room for his clothing. Padmé is here with him, and safe, and he's not about to see that become otherwise. But he's not staying here to ensure it. He won't forgive himself if this nagging worry is right.
He'll take a beach over this.]
It doesn't bother you how...easy this seems?
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She does remain, lax upon the bed, not seeming to worry about anything, which is indeed out of character. It is Anakin that usually advises her not to worry, that things will be okay, and that Padmé worries enough for the both of them. No more.
Rather there is a small peel of laughter as she stretches, although merely to roll over on to her stomach, feet kicking in the air lazily back and forth.]
If you prefer, I can play hard to get.
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[The sentence is cut off with having to work too hard on balance to pull clothing back on--the room is standing still, isn't it?--but accomplished, he turns back with a soft sigh.
No, he doesn't want hard-to-get. They've played at that for far too long for his tastes. But the offer and the implications it leads to no longer feel tantalizing in this space.]
I'd prefer we did this anywhere but here.
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Yet there is that soft and husky chuckle with that, misinterpreting what it is that he wants to do.]
You could have just started with that.
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[A soft smile breaks through the anxiety. It's a step he wasn't sure they would reach. Even if the exhaustion makes the sound of the trip back sound wholly unappealing without the offer.
But if this is what it takes...]
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Stretching again, she lazily rolls over, until she is on her back, and kicking her dangling legs over the side of the bed, she sets herself up.]
As tempting as that sounds, I fear it make take all day for you to get me to where ever it is you want us to go.
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He watches this display with no small amount of vested interest, which, in that moment as she slowly moves in a ritual not so unlike writhing, is twofold: the desire that follows every millimeter of movement, and the concern that wants them gone.
He reaches forward, dress already in hand, just to make this that much
quickereasier...for her. Right. It is, at least,as good an excuse as any to see that dress on her again: that part he doesn't bother justifying with worry at all.]no subject
Cocking her head slightly, she offers one big and slightly dramatic sigh, before completely slipping off the bed to take her dress from him. A bit of wiggling and shifting, she manages to get down over her head and on to her body. A few tugs, and she turns to him, slipping her arms around his waist, lingering.]
It's not too late to change your mind, you know.
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In that quiet warmth between them, he wants to remember how it had felt to not worry at all. She's soft, inviting, willing even. But he bites down on it. This isn't shame. It won't ever be again, if he has a say. But they are getting out of here. And if he's wrong...well. There are beds on the ship too, it wouldn't be too difficult to find time and space to pick this back up where he'd interrupted it, and maybe even better rested.
He shakes his head with a smile, despite reluctantly reaching to gently pull her arms away until his fingers interlock with hers.]
No. I think I like the view.
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It's a lost battle, for now, she knows, although it doesn't mean the war is over.] So what is this marvelous thing that you want to show me that is simply more ravishing than your wife?
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[He'd just like very much to cavort around somewhere not here. He sounds offended, though he isn't, and knows no one could infer otherwise: the way that dress hangs still has him biting the inside of his lip, lest he gives right back in and tell this bad feeling to get lost. There is no way in any galaxy that his wife is not infinitely desirable.
Anakin shakes his head, and his grip on her hand tightens.]
I just want a change of scenery. [Innocuous enough.] It's an adventure...unless, of course, you can't handle that...
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[That coy little hint to her voice even though a pout is on her lips. He can sound offended all he likes, but she can play at it as well. But she's gotten over it. Really. Although part of that is because he has suggested another area, which fine. She can give him that.
Yet there is a look of indignation that crosses her face as she stands to her full height. She's still dwarfed by him, of course, although it is that stance that she has taken many times over the years, making her seem taller than her petiteness actually is.]
I'd lead the way, Skywalker, although I have no way which way is the way you want. So come on. Let's let you be shown up by your wife.