thisavrou_log | ( may event log )

Entry tags:

( may event log )

Who: Everyone
When: May 1st and on
Where: The Moira + Amissis-Re
What: The crew finds themselves visiting the very barren planet of Amissis-Re.
Warnings:None, but please label your content!

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far from nowhere
"the trees rustle in the evening when we stand uneasy before our own thoughts."

With the events of Del Pascia behind the Moira, things are only now beginning to settle—and not very well. Through the combined efforts of some of the crew, D-E-L and her permanent residents were incinerated into the dust of space. While it’s not the most peaceful end, it is one, and not many are going to be thinking back on how nice Del Pascia’s facilities were for quite some time. Repairing what they could of the ship’s interior and putting as much distance between the Moira and the prison as possible, those aboard are informed by Navigation that they are approaching another planet. This means, of course, the potential for better supplies, as some things are beginning to dwindle, and the Captains elect to dock so long as the crew follows protocol.

WELCOME TO AMISSIS-RE

Amissis-Re is an unregistered planet with no documented histories or signs of life. The Moira’s Navigation crew have scanned the planet for any usable resources and have discovered a faint signal emitting from beneath the surface of Amissi-Re. Using the transporters and any other crafts located in the Cargo Bay, the crew are able to travel to the source of the signal. Upon arriving in its exact location, they’ll find a small series of lakes that lead to a tower-like structure that appears to be in use. Crew must cross a poorly assembled bridge system that sways and dips when weight is applied to it in order to gain access to the entrance. Once there, a woman comes out to greet them and explains, excitedly, that she is so very happy that they have come to Amissis-Re.

Everyone can go home.

Their host insists that she has done the impossible and has somewhat fixed the Ingress that’s been built on Amissis-Re a long time ago, and what’s more, she can send crew home for short bursts of time. Upon following this woman inside, crew will find that the planet is not, in fact, barren at all. Diving deep into the underbelly of Amissis-Re, it’s like an eternal factory of machines, and while vast, for whatever reason, it also seems incredibly welcoming...

☄ LEAP OF FAITH ( 05.01 and on )

The barren planet of Amissis-Re is devoid of vegetation and organic life except for a lone woman, and the planet itself is an intricate honeycomb of machines that go for miles below the surface. Yet, that seems insignificant and unimportant in comparison to the news that the crew has just received. After Thán has looked at the Ingress, he tells the crew that he cannot say for certain that it is properly functioning, but Emiri native, Ben Link, will volunteer to test it out.

An elevator takes crew down to a glass platform that overlooks an inverted Ingress portal. In order to return home, the Moirans will have to take a leap of faith and jump in. Ben, in order to show his commitment to the crew and willingness to help get them home, takes that jump with Captain Thán seconds behind him. Jumping feels like dropping through wind; lights swirl, it’s warm, and a soft buzzing encompasses you as you fall. You don’t feel the landing. One moment you’re falling, and the next, you’re in a new world.

A few hours pass before a similar elevator rises from below and to the left of the Ingress, stopping beside the platform. Ben and Thán step out unharmed.

It works, and everyone can temporarily go home. Will you jump?

☄ COMBINE THE EXTREMES ( 05.01 and on )

The woman that greeted the crew and led them to the platform will allow anyone that wants to go home the opportunity to go. There’s only one catch: it’s not permanent. She’s worked for years to fix the Ingress so that she can return to her own home but hasn’t been able to make the trip an everlasting one. Everyone always comes back. Always. They go for a few hours, at first, but that amount of time increases with each visit.

The one guideline, she says, is that you can’t go alone. Each trip requires a partner, or it becomes too much for the mind to bear. These rules are simple: the world takes shape depending on who jumps first, but if crew go hand-in-hand and leap at the same time, the worlds combine. This new world will be populated with people that existed in both and may appear to be a jarring combination of both worlds. It may seem unusual, but if the woman is asked, she’ll explain that the combined world does exist as there are more universes than can be imagined. The Ingress tries to take the person to their own home, their original home, but when jumping together, it finds the closest possible match and deposits them there instead.

From that point on, you can travel the world together or split up, but remember, this world is a living, functioning world. It doesn’t matter if it’s the home of one crew member or a combination. You meet other people. You can get hurt. You influence and are influenced by others.

Be cautious, and enjoy your visit “home”.

☄ LINGER ON ( 05.05 and on )

The more times the Amissis-Re Ingress is visited, the more it seems that your trips last longer and the experience becomes even more vivid. More real and harder to distinguish from the current reality that you know. It’s difficult to explain why, but you get the feeling that maybe if you went without the aid of the host, that perhaps you’d be able to stay. Forever. It takes some subterfuge, but in time, you see your chance: she’s nowhere in sight, and you take it.

The world you are in now is completely your own, whether another crew member accompanied you or not. The people you know are there, everything around you is exactly as you remember. A few hours pass, and you don’t feel that familiar tug, that invisible hook at the base of your spine that signals that your visit is over. Even more time goes by, and you’re still in that world, your home. When the first day has passed, you begin to question if you’ll ever go back, or if life on the Moira was all a dream. The person with you won’t be able to convince you otherwise, and they’ll start to feel less real, a stranger that you used to know.

There’s only one way to go back to the Moira. Someone from the other side has to come in and retrieve you both. Once in, contact with a third will jump-start a link through the Ingress, and it will pull all crew back to the platform.

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She doesn't have to glance Han's way to know the look on his face--but she does, just for a moment, and smiles.

There are rules to these sorts of matters, rules she's blithely disregarding for the evening in favour of straightforward honesty. They don't have time to dance around the subject all night. And blindsiding everyone with the news gives her an idea of what they really think. Dropping hints and dawdling over saying it aloud--this time, anyway--would give them time to prepare reactions.]

Of course we're pleased for you both, but a princess can hardly spend her time in dalliances. Courtship is something to be taken seriously.

[Courtesy of Aunt Rouge, for whom a proper marriage has always been paramount. Leia answers with a smile that brooks no argument in most situations. Unfortunately, her family is not most situations. And before Leia can do more than open her mouth, Father holds up a hand.]

I trust that Leia understands what her choices mean. Captain Solo deserves the opportunity to show that he does, too.

[Mother murmurs a Must we discuss this now? and Leia shrugs, apologetic. Giving everyone indigestion over Han Solo wasn't on the schedule for today.]

[Oh. Oh. His high spirits don't flag at all-- because in spite of the awkwardness he's still really pleased about the readiness with which she laid those cards on the table-- but this is obviously the point where he makes his own gesture. it's not a lack of willingness-- he'd like to think he's already made the point, which is the problem. They can't exactly mention how long he's been waiting, or his attempt to be self-sacrificing on Bespin.]

if I didn't take this seriously I wouldn't be here, your Highnesses.

[Or should that be Majesties? He has no idea, but it feels like splitting hairs under the circumstances. Also, he doesn't give a damn what any of them think about him except for Leia. He'd rather not make a terrible impression, but mainly for her sake.]

He hasn't said it back, he knows. It just hasn't felt like the right time. Somehow it still doesn't; he doesn't want it to sound like an obligation, a formality.]

[Your Highnesses is close enough--at least he didn't try one of his Your Worshipfulness jokes, right?--though it does make Rouge raise a brow.

Or maybe that's just a reaction to his answer in general. Tia's smile seems a little softer at it.]

We couldn't ask for more than that, Captain. [The fact that her father accepts Han at his word is heartening to Leia.] As we get to know you, I'm sure it will only become more clear.

[A little curl of regret twists around Leia's stomach, the food turning tasteless in her mouth. There won't be time for that, and she knows it. If only there were something she could do--but all the warnings in the world won't make a difference. Tarkin has control of Alderaan's future, no matter what she says to her family tonight.]

It sounds like we'll be seeing plenty of you when Leia comes to visit. Why don't you tell us more about yourself? [That's Celly's request, kind and less a question than she makes it sound.]

[He takes the request-- more of a demand, really, in stride. It's eerie, in a way, because if Alderaan hadn't been destroyed, chances are he never would have met Leia. Much less fallen for her, much less waited for her to fall for him, much less come home with her.

He settles a little in his seat, casual enough.]

I was in, uh, private transport. [he shrugs a bit. The euphemism isn't very clever, he doesn't imagine it'll do too much to throw her aunts off the trail, but somehow it sounds better than saying smuggler, or mentioning the Hutts.] You won't find anything faster than my ship.

[Nodding, he glances at Bail, figuring he'll take Leia's advice.]

Did the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.

[Father looks impressed, and conversation proceeds from there. Han never seems entirely comfortable--to Leia, anyway--but he's doggedly social, answering questions and telling stories over a salad course, roast gorak bird in malla petals, and a dessert of starblossom drenched in chimbak wine.

It's all so Alderaanian, Leia could weep...but, of course, she can't. She focuses on the conversation and the taste of the wine they drink, and when attention is off them for a moment, she slips a hand under the table to squeeze Han's thigh gently. He's everything she could hope for tonight.

When things are winding down, Leia speaks brightly.]

I'd better help Han settle in. He'll need a rest before he can start out again.

[When Mother speaks, it's with a deceptively warm voice.] The blue guest room should be ready for a visitor.

Then that's the one I'll show him. [She knows perfectly well what that means--it's a room much closer to her parents' bedroom than her own--but it hardly matters when they're unlikely to stay the night. She gets up and, in a show of affection that's a little overboard by their family's standards under normal circumstances, hugs and kisses her parents and aunts one more time, murmuring I love you under her breath.

It's not much. It doesn't feel like enough. But it's what she has. She waits until she and Han are out of earshot before she leans in and murmurs to him.] You were wonderful.

[When you get him going, Han is a pretty decent storyteller. He's a little hampered by the necessity of leaving out anything that's obviously after the destruction of Alderaan, and some of the more colorful ones get clipped or redirected, but there are enough reasonably light-hearted tall tales to keep them from too much prying, and the food is good, if richer than he'd ever have anywhere else.

He's even smart enough not to say anything about sleeping arrangements. The Organas have been remarkably hospitable and Alderaan is known for being a peaceful place, but everyone's got their limits. While she says her goodbyes he stands aside, not too attentive because it's bound to be hard enough without his eyes on her.

Answering that with a smile, he nods.]

Not so bad. [Actually pretty nice, just completely impossible.] So, now what?

[She kisses his shoulder before beginning to walk again. Not so bad is a gross understatement, but she can't blame him for wanting to underplay it a little. As bittersweet as all of this is--returning to the Ingress on Amissis-Re is going to be painful--she's pleased that it's as sweet as it might be bitter.]

Now, I want to take a look at something.

[Back upstairs, the exact opposite direction from the blue guest room--eventually stop outside her room, before a piece of art hanging on the wall.]

This is Killik Twilight. It's an Ob Khaddor. [A little pause.] Are you familiar with his work?

[Considering how badly it could have gone, he can't be blamed for being a little on edge. But it was nice, even if he's not sure how he ranks on the parental approval meter. (Fortunately, he's not terribly worried on that count. It could've gone much worse.) Judging from that little kiss, well enough.

He hasn't got a clue where they're going, so he follows along quietly until she slows to look at the painting, shaking his head at the question. Art theft wasn't really his specialty, so he's clueless.]

It's a moss painting--one of Alderaan's finest art forms. [Ruefully, leaning in against his side.] It can't be done now, of course. The moss only grew on Alderaan.

[Perhaps if they could locate an extant moss painting, if they could collect spores from it...but that would require an extant moss painting. She's not sure any still exist.] I always loved this painting. Those figures are Killiks--they disappeared from Alderaan long before anyone human came here. They're fleeing whatever destroyed them.

[And then she pauses, staring hard at the picture. After a moment, she glances up at him.] If we return to Amissis-Re, and we happen to be holding something...

[He tilts his head a bit to regard it, considering the art itself, the story behind it. A destroyed painting from a destroyed world about a destroyed race, the parallels too obvious and painful to voice. Here they are in her childhood home, looking at things she'd never thought to see again... With no way to change what's to come.

He looks down to meet her gaze.]

You want to take it back, [he says, not because it needs to be said but because he has to say something.] We can try, why not?

Yes.

[It's selfish of her, and despite the fact that this is her home, it feels like theft--but the idea of leaving it here is worse. If she can't rescue her family, she can at least take back something of Alderaan.

If she can. But they were already likely to return in these clothes--the Ingress wouldn't drag them through naked, would it? (After the decontamination stops a few weeks ago, she's not confident it wouldn't.)

She takes a step forward and, glancing around the empty corridor, lifts the moss painting down. It's not an especially large piece; it fits under Leia's arm easily. She glances back]

We'd better get our clothes. [She's planning on carrying hers out--this dress is too pretty to leave behind.] Would you like any souvenirs, while we're here?

[Her voice is light as she can make it, but the weight of the knowledge that all this will disappear is starting to find its way to the front of her mind.]

[As far as art theft goes it's pretty damn noble. Not that he's inclined to phrase it that way.

The question gives him a moment's pause, but he shakes his head. Han wouldn't even know what to look for.]

I'll carry anything you want.

[Truth is he's not sure he trusts it-- he's not so sure they're really here, that everything won't disappear into memory when they find themselves back on Amissis-Re. And beyond that... There's so much here, left behind and doomed to destruction, maybe they shouldn't be fixating on it.

But a few things can't hurt, right?]

[She curls up against him in a one-armed hug--the other arm is, of course, busy with Killik Twilight--that she hopes says everything she doesn't dare try.]

Thank you. [And, letting go of him:] I'll make it a little easier on you, at least.

[In her room, she finds a large, plain bag with a shoulder strap. Their clothing fits easily in the bottom; Killik Twilight doesn't sit so neatly inside, but it doesn't take her long to find another bag that will work for it. She'll carry that one; she's the one who wants the painting so badly, after all.]

Why don't we see what we have in the wine cellar? [That, she suspects, is a project Han will enjoy--enough so that she won't have to feel guilty about dragging him along on this fool's errand.] Mother always keeps some Toniray on hand for special occasions.

[If he thinks too hard about it this is going to seem awfully morbid.

He shoulders the bag, wondering if it's worth suggesting that he at least change back-- wearing her father's things feels stranger than any of the rest of it-- but maybe they'll attract less attention wandering around like this.]

I think this counts as a special occasion.

[This does suit his interests, and it seems less invasive, somehow, than picking through her personal things.]

So how bad is being put in the blue room?

[It's probably morbid whether they think about it or not, but it's also the only reasonable answer Leia sees. Cajoling people to try to leave Alderaan with her: not reasonable. Stealing a few choice bottles of wine: if not reasonable, at least accomplishable.

It seems wrong to let this opportunity go to waste.]

So do I.

[The question makes her laugh a little as they begin to walk. She casts one last glance back at her room--at her little keepsake box in particular--but she can't cart out everything. There's a point where this is bound to look suspicious.]

It depends on what you consider bad. [The only times it's happened before, the young men in question were colleagues rather than paramours.] Mostly, it means my parents are worried you're planning to sneak into my room in the middle of the night and ravish me.

[There's only so much they can carry back, and there's only so much space on the Moira for sentimental things, right? And only so much on the Falcon, for that matter, if they ever manage to take her home. What little they can rescue-- if anything-- will have to do.]

Wouldn't you be upset if I didn't?

I wouldn't want you to.

[As they continue down through the broad corridors, the decor first becomes more opulent--in the more publicly used spaces--and then less so, as they reach parts of the palace used primarily by servants. When they cross paths with others, Leia greets them, by name when she recalls who they are--but otherwise, her attention is on the man beside her.]

I can get anywhere in the palace without waking people up. I'd come to you.

[That would be worthy of a long pout if she didn't follow it up so neatly. Leia, has he told you lately that he loves you? (He hasn't, and maybe this would be the right moment to remedy it, but he's too conscious of the strangeness of their surroundings.)

What he can and does do is flash her a wide, crooked smile and bump against her lightly.

She's the best.]

[That smile is reward enough in itself--the smile, the fact that he's here with her, the fact that she's here--that she has the vague idea of seeing if she might be able to find a way to ravish him later on the Moira anyway, as a reward. Probably not, considering just how little privacy they've had in the last two months, but the idea is all too tempting. (Moreso for the fact that it's been a while since any ravishing at all has happened. Maybe if there's time to run back up to the blue guest room...)

Eventually, Leia opens a door, and they end up in the palace's wine cellar--a large room of stone and wood that contains not only rows of Alderaanian reds, whites, and teals (try the Toniray, it's excellent) but shelves stocked with other spirits as well. Ruge and starblossom liqueurs, ale, brandy, port fortified with malla petals, and plenty of offworld-origin alcohol as well.]

You and Lando would have a field day in here. [A little tease, one that gives her a moment to consider what she'd like to take with them.]

We do like raiding royal wine cellars,

[he muses, ever so casual like it's an everyday thing. Is that a joke? Who knows, he says it with a totally straight face.]

Good stuff.

[The kind of stuff, usually, that he wouldn't even buy for bribes-- something too fancy is riskier than something too cheap-- but he's not clueless about the quality, and even if he was, knowing where they are he could infer. It's maybe not ideal that Han looks over everything in the palace like he's casing the joint, but how else is he supposed to make sense of it?

He walks a few paces down, glancing at the faded labels, dusty dark glass, his mind half stuck on discussions of hypothetical ravishing. Look, he's a simple man with simple interests, and comparatively, alcohol isn't that interesting.]

[Unconsciously, Leia expects him to look through the palace with an eye toward the value of things. That's just part of who he is. So is the fact that, if things were different, he wouldn't be doing much more than looking--or maybe picking out a bottle to share when she inevitably sneaked into his guest room and pinned him to the bed.

But that's another universe entirely.

She has fairly particular tastes, when she's given the opportunity, and while she's not overly familiar with the placement of various liquors within the room, she orients herself quickly enough. Then, it's just a matter of trying to remember which vintages are likely to be the best options. She carries two bottles of Toniray over to Han, and as she tucks them into his bag, catches sight of the faraway look in his eyes.]

Credit for your thoughts.

[It's hard to dwell on how different things could be, when Alderaan was reduced to nothing before they ever met. He knows (and can't fault her for it) that she'd give up everything to have her home world back, but it's an odd thing to realize that if Alderaan had been there, he'd simply have dropped off Luke and the old man and been on his way, hopefully quite a few credits richer, though with his luck probably not.

(Sometimes he wonders how different it could have been, if he'd have ended up drawn into the Rebel cause anyway. It's hard, now, to imagine his life any other way, but he's disinclined to give himself much benefit of the doubt.)

But things are as they are, and wherever they might be now, it's the sort of universe where they could share a bottle of indecently expensive wine after ravishing each other.]

I'm thinking about what you'd do in the blue room, [he admits. It's distracting. Without missing a beat, he bends to pick a bottle from a low shelf.]

Oh, are you?

[She's pink-cheeked and staring openly at the way he's bent over; all the layers in her father's wardrobe couldn't hide the line of Han's thighs or the curve of his posterior. For a moment or two, she's tempted to give up the thought of raiding a wine cellar that shouldn't exist in favour of making far less appropriate use of the space.

Two months of close quarters without more than the slightest relief is two months too long.

She pulls her attention away in favour of another bottle, this one of pale pink starblossom liqueur.]

Hoping for anything in particular?

[That wasn't a calculated move, but he catches to look on her face as he glances back, spurring him to smirk. So he's not the only one who's distracted. Not that it comes as a surprise-- neither of them are guarded anymore about their feelings-- but it's always going to leave him feeling cocky, when he catches her eye like that.]

You're the one with all the ideas, [he murmurs, tucking his bottle into the bag as well and setting it down so he can step closer to her unencumbered, letting his gaze roam appreciatively. That dress, it's not the sort of thing she often wears these days, but it suits her. None of this feels real but he's trying to enjoy the fantasy.

Lately, with so little privacy, fantasy is all they've had. He misses her, which is ridiculous because of course she's right here with him. But there it is. Everything else is half forgotten as he reaches to touch her cheek.]

[There's simply no helping just how good he looks in...well, anything. And as long as she thinks of the clothing as Alderaanian rather than specifically from my father's things, they're decidedly handsome on Han. All the moreso when her thoughts drift to pulling him free of all that fabric, one layer at a time...

She watches him straighten back up and come nearer, the weight of his gaze sliding down her form a nearly palpable thing. She can feel it in her chest, pressing the air from her lungs and keeping her from a breath deep enough to replace it. Her own sight remains on his face, watching him watch her, and when his fingertips brush over her skin, a shiver runs along her scalp, down to the nape of her neck.]

I've got a few. [She snakes a hand past all that draped fabric until there's only the waistband of his slacks keeping her palm from his hip.] But they don't need the guest room.

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