thisavrou_log | ( april intro log )

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( april intro log )

Who: Everyone
When: April 1st and on
Where: The Moira + Del Pascia
What: The crew finds themselves visiting the correctional facility of Del Pascia.
Warnings: Mentions of blood. Please label your content!

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slammed & counted
"I feel liberated when I'm doing it, and I want other people to feel liberated through it."

The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay.

Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. This process consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters.

With the combined efforts of the crew, the terror plaguing the ship has been successfully removed from the Moira. Yet, it doesn’t come without consequences. Aside from the overall state of those aboard the ship, the Moira itself has taken considerable damage across various sections. Overall functionality seems stable for now, but with necessary repairs to be made and few supplies to actually make them with, the Captains have set a course for any nearby planet with the hope of finding what they need. However, that is much closer than it appears. As new arrivals begin coming through the Ingress, a message is received by those in the Tower and broadcast to everyone:
Please be advised. Your vessel is now entering Restricted Space. As per penal code 65208-A, only authorized personnel are to be admitted beyond this point. If necessary, further assistance will be provided once docked.
As there is little choice, the Captains instruct Navigation to proceed with caution. All transporters will be required to assist in taking those who volunteer to the main hub.

WELCOME TO CORRECTIONAL FACILITY DEL PASCIA

Del Pascia is one of many facilities across the universe built to maintain and rehabilitate its inhabitants. With a combined populace of both prisoners and employed civilians, it functions as both prison and living quarters. The central section of Del Pascia is divided into multiple floors that branch out into subdivisions of the facility—clearly and precisely labeled. For those contracted to work in the prison, Del Pas Main is home. There are cafeterias, common areas for exercise and general downtime, divided residences, and work stations. Beyond this area, each remaining wing of Del Pascia separates into cell blocks A through F with similar facilities available to the inmates. Varying degrees of criminals are brought to Del Pascia, ranging from maximum security to juvenile offenders, and security differs depending on which block is visited.

Yet, there is something peculiar about this prison upon further investigation: there are no living persons within Del Pascia. The AI, which runs and oversees all of Del Pascia, has made arrangements with the Moira so that those who wish may board and take what is needed to begin repairs. This program, while generally polite in nature, goes simply by the name D-E-L.

☄ ENJOY YOUR STAY ... IN PRISON

Those who choose to go to Del Pascia will find themselves greeted by D-E-L. It has already agreed to terms with the Captains, allowing crew to strip nonessential supplies that aren’t needed since the station’s crew and prisoners were relocated due to funding cuts. The only condition placed upon this agreement is that any crew wishing to explore must undergo a mandatory decontamination before proceeding through the rest of Del Pascia. This process takes only minutes and is guaranteed to cause no physical side effects. Following this simple procedure, exploration is open with only warnings to be careful about damaging key systems. It is important to note that there are various security cameras located throughout the correctional facility, and it is not uncommon for D-E-L to comment or show concern for those exploring parts of Del Pascia.

☄ DEATH BECOMES YOU

There is salvage to be found in all parts of the facility, including the cell blocks and infirmaries of the prison wings. However, there is something odd about these sectors, a strange charge in the air that follows you as you search for anything useful to bring back to the Moira. Perhaps it is the eyes of D-E-L watching? But then, after an indiscernible amount of time, it's like a switch is flipped. Suddenly, you are wearing your sins where anyone but you can see. For however much death you have wrought or committed, there will be blood on your hands—perhaps even further than that. This bizarre occurrence will appear as an almost digital skin and will not vanish until outside the cell blocks. If exploring the infirmaries for supplies, any and all health stats throughout your life will be visible and easy to read by anyone who happens to take an interest.

For those who have killed once or twice, they might find a red stain on their hands, but the higher the kill count will result in larger proportions of blood covering their arms and, in extreme cases, perhaps their entire body. The blood will vanish once you have left the prison wing, though you may occasionally see a flicker of the image while anywhere on the station. The same goes for health stats viewed in infirmary sections of Del Pascia.

☄ WHAT WAS THAT SOUND?

Del Pascia is a very large station and has been abandoned for quite some time. D-E-L will regretfully inform anyone who asks that some nonessential areas have fallen into disrepair. It will warn that exploring these areas can be risky as it has no knowledge of what damage these sections have taken. Regardless of that, if you venture in, you’ll find that these sections are in rather bad shape. Exposed wiring sparks in the walls, a great variety of broken tools are thrown about, and it seems that every camera has been purposely broken. Venturing in further will yield valuable components for salvage, and yet... as before, you suspect you aren’t alone. It isn’t often, but sometimes, you might hear a step falling moments after yours or a rattle coming from the vents. Every time you go to investigate... whatever made the noise is gone.

Should the AI be queried about this, D-E-L will emphasize that all personnel and prisoners were removed and that there is no one on board except crew from the Moira.

( ooc; For questions, go here. All players, please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )

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That's silly. [Luke doesn't laugh, though. He's more curious, and watching this man now with far more interest than he was before.] If you can't fear, how can you hope for the best?

[Speaking of, he hopes for the best now.] You're saying you're a Jedi? I've never met one as young as you before. [He must be from Ben's time, during the Clone Wars.]

[That first statement stops him in his own tracks, an echo of the balance he's been arguing for and philosophizing about for years. Perhaps not as rationally, not when he takes what feels right and just does it, opting to explain later rather than asking for permission and trying to argue it, but it's there all the same.]

Believe me, I've been telling them that for years.

[Funny how "balance" never gets to be defined by its supposed harbinger. He shrugs it off--though the words themselves certainly stick--and gives another laugh.]

And you're not the first one to tell me that either.

[Too young and too old all at once; one of many ways in which he's convinced that in his situation back home, he just can't win. He's too old to understand proper indoctrination--as far as he's ever thought, they take Younglings in far too early--too old to not be corrupted by attachment and experience, but too young to properly harness said experiences.]

But yes, that's what I'm saying.

[Them. Luke imagines a world where there are enough Jedi that he can use a plural, that they could be tired old friends you could jokingly disagree with. He can't fathom it. Luke isn't envious, but he's certainly fascinated. He beams.] That's- well. That's amazing. I'm training to be a Jedi, but I'm probably not as far as you.

[Not envious, but he does know when he's out of his depth. Still, introductions are introductions. For once, Luke remembers not to hold out his hand for a shake. Instead, he catches the Jedi's eye and says his name with pride.] I'm Luke Skywalker; it's good to meet you.

[At that, his breath stops, and there's a soft gasp as it arrests. Of all ways he'd imagined this happening--hoped from the moment Leia had let his name drop--this is far from any scenario he'd come up with.]

Luke.

[It takes him a moment to find his voice outside of that repetition; the name itself is reflex. He's so unsure of how to broach this, but Leia had taken it well enough, hadn't she?]

I'm your father.

No, he- [And suddenly, he feels it.]

[In the Force, Vader had felt like a storm cloud. An ice cloud, like dying on Hoth, but angry, so angry and frozen over with the the acrid sickness of death. This man feels the same, but in reverse-- where there was cold, there's now warmth, where there was anger, there's a mix of swirling emotions, but the most basic thumbprint is the same, and it's terrifying. Luke feels it and he knows it's true with a sudden and awful clarity. This man is Vader.]

[He doesn't have time to do anything but react, stumbling backward in surprise. He trips backward, and his fear is enough that he forgets himself. Luke tries to catch himself with the hand he doesn't have, and ends up hitting it too hard against the metal flooring. He's left collapsed on the floor in pain, distracted, finally, from his father standing over him.]

Luke?

[In a long history of questionable welcomes and introductions, this has to be one of the worst (if only because it continues to contradict just about everything he'd assumed this might be).

The first thing he feels is that fear; having been intricately acquainted with the concept of it, and they've moved from a perfectly amiable quip on principle to the concept in reality, ugly and confusing. He doubletakes behind them, convinced there must be something behind them, but of course, there's nothing there just like he's assumed there's nothing in the direction they'd been headed.

Nothing behind them, nothing to explain this reaction but...himself? That...that can't be it.

He stoops down, careful distance kept in that fearful refusal--the last thing he'd expect, the last thing he can bear--and looks nothing but concerned.]

Are you alright?

[Except in that moment, with his son having looked at him like a ghost (or worse), missing a hand--the same he's replaced and that fact doesn't escape him, he realizes that's a horribly short-sighted question.]

[Luke, having lost his hand less than three days ago, is too tied up in the searing pain to be properly afraid of the man stooping over him. Which is lucky, because otherwise he would have fled. His instincts catch up with him, and he chokes out a strangled,] I'm fine.

[He's curled on the floor, cradling his arm as Anakin Skywalker stands over him.]

[The more things change, etc.]

[That voice doesn't at all match the message he's being given, and that's all he needs to close that gap between them, consequences be damned. He's on his knees now, a hand--the real one at his shoulder.]

When did this happen--have you been to the med bay for this?

[You don't present Anakin with people to care about, that he knows he should...does, and expect him to not worry. For better or worse.]

[What doesn't match at all is that Vader hasn't struck him yet. He's had ample opportunity, with Luke writhing on the floor, and yet- Luke cracks one teary eye open, staring up at the face of his father.]

[He doesn't know what to do.]

I- I saw medical. It's fine, I just. I just hit it. [Slowly, cautiously, he begins to sit up, waiting for- something. He's not sure. But it's coming, he knows it, and then he'll run.]

[Funny, Anakin's still half expecting something to happen too. Someone to waltz out of the shadows, for the man to try to bolt, something. He doesn't even need the Force to feel how tense the air is, and with it, it's almost suffocating.]

What is it, "it's fine"? [It's classic Skywalker Sarcasm™ and it practically screams that Anakin doesn't believe a word coming out of Luke's mouth.]

It's not fine. Especially not if it's recent. Trust me, I'd know. [He lets go of that ginger hold only to push his sleeve up. We're the prosthetic not firmly attached to receive its mental cues, they would almost match, aside from Anakin's loss of limb extends up to his elbow, not just above the wrist.]

[Luke stares at that missing limb for a bit longer than necessary. Should he feel kinship with his father, or horror at being similar to Vader? In Luke's mind, they are the same man, but they've yet to coalesce into a form Luke can deal with, much less acknowledge.]

I didn't know you... had that. [What do you say when confronted with this? Luke stares, still cringing from the pain.] The- medical gave me painkillers, it's fine.

[Painkillers he's only taking half of, shh.]

[Sorry, Luke, whether you wanted it or not, you walked straight into this relationship. Anakin could have met him 10 years ago, twenty, or hell, twenty seconds ago, none of that matters: he cares.]

Right, and you're clearly following their advice from the sound of it.

[AKA: DAD IS NOT BUYING IT. Because he knows better and would very likely do the same thing.

He lets the sleeve fall, more concentrated on Luke than the stare; the latter he's at least used to when it garners such lovely reactions and snide asides about being part droid in a war they're fighting against droids. Not a particular topic for conversation when the kid--no, he's not a kid is he, really?--is one step away from going into shock.]

It's not something I usually advertise. Look, the point is, I know how this feels, and...I honestly can't believe I'm about to say this, but you're pushing yourself too hard.

[Luke would be caught up in petulant protests if he wasn't constantly distracted by the man standing in front of him. Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, how can they be the same? He still keeps expecting to be struck, but the more he searches, the more he can't feel any ill-will in the Force.]

[Again, Luke comes back to the fact that he just doesn't know what to do.]

[He's really getting sick of that feeling.] I'm not- [Finally, Luke sits up.] There's really nothing to be done for it. I don't- I didn't know you didn't have a hand. Too- like me. [Nerves, as always, make him ramble.]

[He realizes, with sudden terror, that he doesn't want to run.]

[It's in that moment that he realizes Luke is bound to be about as obstinate as he is, and maybe there's nothing to be done for that either. There's something to be said in these recognizable quirks between Luke and his sister, things he'd thought once would have only been a result of learning them, not some trick up the Force's sleeve.

And so, he stops trying to push the point and instead plants himself on the floor across from Luke. Far enough away, just so that it doesn't feel like hovering, but close enough to touch should his condition get any worse.

Maybe there are far better places to be having this conversation, but they're not here and they're not now. The point is moot.]

People tend to frown on their generals having droid limbs in the middle of a war with them.

[But it feels safe enough to admit it here. It's grounding, somewhat equalizing, and Luke is someone who, on principle, Anakin doesn't feel he needs to hide much from; what would be the point in that?]

I imagine that's different for you though, isn't it?

I'm not a general. [Luke sputters. He knew his father fought with Ben in the Clone Wars, but a General? Imagine having Vader as a commanding officer. He wonders if the Clone Wars were as heroic as he'd imagined them.]

[Luke is learning quickly that nothing is ever quite what he imagined them.]

[He's still skittish, waiting for any reason to bolt, but he hasn't found one yet. His own feelings are mixed, and they leak through the Force, a mix of curiosity and fear. He wants to know his father, he always will, even if his father is Vader. But who wants to know Vader? Who wants to spend time with him-- who wants to risk that sort of painful death?]

[He keeps stalling.]

And- it's only been three days. I don't know what people think.

Hopefully nothing.

[Not that he assumes this is the case. It may mean something different to them now, since the war--the one he knows, at least--is presumably over. Maybe it's not droids they hate anymore, but something else entirely. Who knows?

It's given in a tone that verges on a threat, skirting it in that way Obi-Wan dislikes but can't say anything about when it is specifically very careful. It's purposeful, suggesting that he won't brook outside input on the matter, even if it was more than "nothing."

Beyond that, he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift from concern; Luke is still his paramount interest. His senses--even without the Force--would have to be significantly dulled to not feel that projected confusion, that curious mix between fear and interest that Anakin can't place a source for...beyond himself.

The fear is the worst part. Making it the part he doesn't want to consider at all, and yet can't rightly ignore. It would be all too easy to blame this on shock, on the pain, the disorientation of arrival, but he knows, in the deeper part of himself that can't lie, he knows. It's not any of those things.

It's him.

Only a shaky sigh escapes at that realization, and the words fall out before he properly considers how much he may not want to know:]

Can I ask what happened?

[There's that fear again, flaring up at the memory. Will Vader- Anakin- his father be angry with the truth? Is it safer to lie? Luke looks down, somewhere between ashamed and surprised, and realizes the question is decided for him, when he can't bring himself to speak the full truth yet, not to anyone, much less now.]

[Luke doesn't like to lie, but his mentor dealt in half-truths, and passed the legacy onto his last pupil. He employs the tactic now.]

A Sith. I wasn't... ready to fight him. [He may never be.]

[They both learned it from Obi-Wan; what can be said for it, other than that? Anakin knows there's more to it, and would hardly need a sixth sense to figure that out, but that fear weighs, ever-present, and maybe, on some level, they're alike in that too: hesitant in declaring the whole truth and nothing but in the fear of how much worse it might just make everything.

But even that much of an answer is a stark reminder of how unready he'd been himself...and how much he still questions if he'd done the right thing when presented with an opportunity for a second chance.]

We never are.

[It's a quiet, distant answer, uncharacteristic in its simple honesty, but even in that, it's still barely a truth at all. And this tone just won't do.]

Which never gets back to Obi-Wan as having come from me. I'm trusting you with my reputation, Luke, he'll never let either of us live that down.

[In a moment, Luke clenches his fist. To hear this man discuss Ben so casually, so kindly, when Luke knows one day he'll cut his mentor down- no, let it go. He can't fight Vader again.]

[He realizes, cautiously, that Vader not knowing his future is-- could be-- a strange sort of protection. Speaking too much of the creature may summon it, and while Luke does not believe this man is truly kind or gentle, he's certainly a far cry from the black metal giant of Bespin.]

[He unclenches his fist.]

How did you lose yours? Your- your hand, I mean.

Similar way to your own, from the sound of it. [Though for all he truly knows about it, it couldn't be more different.] A Sith Lord--Count Dooku--led the army on the other side of the war. Started it, actually.

[And whether Luke ever wanted to know what it sounds like when Anakin Skywalker holds a grudge against someone, living or dead, he does now. Anakin's tone fluctuates between derision and dismissal in different wavelengths, despite the clear past-tense next to Dooku's name.]

When the war started, I...wasn't ready either.

[And hadn't been when he'd managed to actually slay the Sith who had evaded both he and Kenobi off-and-on for three years. The latter attempt had just been luckily successful.

Too. Successful.]

Edited (english~~~~~~~~~) 2016-04-12 02:02 (UTC)

[Luke's heart reaches out before his brain, and his voice is heavy with sympathy-] How- how old were you?

[He sits back against the wall, has to ruminate on it for a moment. He knows; it's a moment seared into his history, but it's not something he can get into without a fair amount of memory, and it's not a pleasant one. Inappropriately humbling, perhaps, but with years of justification for "justice" following, the humility is usually overruled.

Anakin frowns and offers the answer with a heavy, tired sigh. He's used to answering--deflecting--questions on the topic, but if anyone deserves a straight answer, it's the man in front of him. (Boy? How does that work?)]

The war started about three years ago. Nineteen?

[And yet, for all he remembers that singular event with such clarity, the years after have seemed to rush by at such varying, confusing length.]

...Nineteen. [Luke was barely ready to leave, when he was nineteen. He couldn't have fought in a war. Maybe this man, his father-]

[No, Luke can't keep going with that line of thought. Nothing can excuse becoming a monster. There's no excuse, or if there is, Luke can't see it. The place where his hand used to be throbs.]

[He waits for the hate, and it just... doesn't come.]

What was it like?

Which part? I assume you don't mean just the arm?

[It's said with an undignified laugh that releases only a small bit of tension and does a poor job at lightening the mood. ~~He's trying.~~

He's still so unsure of why Luke is so guarded when Leia had been anything other than cagey regarding the situation; he can feel that anxiety rolling off of him in waves. It's disconcerting, and the more it sits there, the more he wonders if it's not just the fresh wound and sudden surprise hitting all at once.

But it's not a consideration Luke seems particularly giving on, and for all Anakin's impulse, he realizes this is a poor time to push. This is a poor place to be discussing any of this at all, but it's quiet and suffices better than it might.

He can push later. Provided there is one.]

[That's a huge question, and it's one that gives Luke too much reach. Too much time to remember who-- what-- he's talking to. Does Luke really want to know of the war that made Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader? Was it a war, or any one thing? Was the transformation inevitable or avoidable? Destined or tragic?]

[Does it matter?]

[Luke can't answer those questions, and he can't ask anyone else. He'll have to decide for himself. The thought leaves him feeling very alone in his own head.]

I... I guess it's none of my business. [He starts to stand, studying himself. There's another crash far in the distance, and Luke turns his head to search for it down the hall.] I'd- I'd better check that out.

[He's not running. He's asking for permission to be let go.]

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( april intro log )

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