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thisavrou_log2016-11-12 05:12 pm
beautifulspaceraptor) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-11-12 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
Indoctrination Plot Part 2
Who: Everyone who wants in on this brainwashing/techno-zombie fun times!
When: In the wee hours of the morning, following this PSA, 12.11.2016.
Where: Around the Moira and in a room in the ILR
What: Mass Effect-style brainwashing/techno-zombie fun times!
Warnings: Brainwashing and potential body horror and techno-zombies! Now with more combat!
The crate is gone now. All of their hard work and finally, here they were, ready for the next stage.
In the center of the room, two glowing spires reach for the ceiling, painting everything around it in a gentle, sky blue light.
With the fruit of their efforts laid out around him, Nihlus finally lets himself rest, sitting on the floor before the Monolith, just… staring into the endless glow. Loses himself within it so completely that time slips past like a distant dream. His eyes are watery when he comes back to himself, after images burnt so deeply into the back of his eyes that he’s nearly blinded by it.
There’s a clawed hand on his shoulder, warm and heavy and so achingly familiar.
“Saren,” he murmurs softly, resting his head against his mentor’s forearm, voice cracked with exhaustion, subvocals bleeding with an old, poorly smothered grief.
“I’m so tired.” Closing his eyes, Nihlus turns and presses his brow plates against the black sleeve, trying desperately to suppress the broken notes in his undertones. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you both so much-”
Nihlus.
It’s a voice that’d pulled him back from the brink of death countless of times, cool and steady and utterly unshakeable. A lifeline when he’d been bleeding out, alone in the dark, stranded in the aftermaths of missions gone haywire.
You’ve still got a task to complete.
And just like that, the weight is gone.
Nihlus stays where he is for a little while longer, committing the warmth of that touch to memory.
Slowly pushing himself back to his feet, he slides his helmet on as orange shields flicker to life around the Monolith.
((OOC: Prommpts/starters are in the comments! If you have questions, ask them here!))
When: In the wee hours of the morning, following this PSA, 12.11.2016.
Where: Around the Moira and in a room in the ILR
What: Mass Effect-style brainwashing/techno-zombie fun times!
Warnings: Brainwashing and potential body horror and techno-zombies! Now with more combat!
The crate is gone now. All of their hard work and finally, here they were, ready for the next stage.
In the center of the room, two glowing spires reach for the ceiling, painting everything around it in a gentle, sky blue light.
With the fruit of their efforts laid out around him, Nihlus finally lets himself rest, sitting on the floor before the Monolith, just… staring into the endless glow. Loses himself within it so completely that time slips past like a distant dream. His eyes are watery when he comes back to himself, after images burnt so deeply into the back of his eyes that he’s nearly blinded by it.
There’s a clawed hand on his shoulder, warm and heavy and so achingly familiar.
“Saren,” he murmurs softly, resting his head against his mentor’s forearm, voice cracked with exhaustion, subvocals bleeding with an old, poorly smothered grief.
“I’m so tired.” Closing his eyes, Nihlus turns and presses his brow plates against the black sleeve, trying desperately to suppress the broken notes in his undertones. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you both so much-”
Nihlus.
It’s a voice that’d pulled him back from the brink of death countless of times, cool and steady and utterly unshakeable. A lifeline when he’d been bleeding out, alone in the dark, stranded in the aftermaths of missions gone haywire.
You’ve still got a task to complete.
And just like that, the weight is gone.
Nihlus stays where he is for a little while longer, committing the warmth of that touch to memory.
Slowly pushing himself back to his feet, he slides his helmet on as orange shields flicker to life around the Monolith.
((OOC: Prommpts/starters are in the comments! If you have questions, ask them here!))
no subject
[ he murmurs, glancing over his shoulder again. Doing a perfectly convincing job of acting normal. Really he is. No, really. ]
I'm just-- well, it's not important. What about you?
[ There's a fierce, mistrustful look in his eyes, a wildness he can't contain any longer. ]
no subject
I really haven't the time for games and that's what this is beginning to feel like. Whatever isn't happening here feels terribly important. Why else would you be waving a blaster around?
no subject
[ He doesn't flinch, doesn't sound bitter about having to concede to that logic. It's all right. He can make this work. Han might be focused on a new purpose, but he's still his same self. Still able to talk his way out of anything. ]
Come on. I'll show you.
[ it's a risk, leading the Jedi closer, definitely a risk. But Han is confident: the glory of it will suffice. Kenobi will understand, and then he, too, will serve. He lowers his blaster, nods down the dark hallway. ]
no subject
Why must you show me? Can you not tell me on the way to showing me, at least?
[ Urging himself forward, he grips his lightsaber tightly and reaches the other hand out to follow the wall with his free fingertips, as if it's the only way he'll leave himself a trail back home. ]
I don't understand...
no subject
[ He pauses at a bend in the hall, still a little wild-eyed, not doing a great job of keeping it under wraps. ]
Go on.
no subject
[ He's that much more suspicious as Han continues to press, unsettled deep down in a way that feels uncanny. ]
You are being the least helpful, I hope you know.
[ And going somewhere without cause of concern is not Obi-Wan's way, even if it might be easily attributed to Solo. ]
You aren't in trouble, are you? You haven't told me anything. If there's a problem, I'm certain I can help — I'm certain of it.
[ Just don't keep leading him down hallways that don't bode well by the feel of them. ]
no subject
[ Still not an answer. Han thinks he's doing okay. At the best of times, he's really not as smooth a talker as he likes to think, and right now-- well, the best of times, this isn't. But really, he thinks he's doing okay. ]
No trouble. Just... this way. You'll see.
[ He'll see. Once he makes it to the right door, and Han can shove him through it. This will be fine. ]