starlogs | Nomad [open]

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star wars: padmé amidala

Nomad [open]

WHO: Ben Kenobi & YOU!
WHERE: Districts of Bajikan
WHEN: Following arrival and throughout the fleet's stay.
WHAT: Ben Kenobi explores the districts while attempt to cope with this unwelcome change in his hermetic lifestyle.
WARNINGS: Potentially sensitive topics may come up in the narrative. Opt-in permissions and information about content warnings and Force powers can be found here.

[ Arrival had been exhausting. Terrifying, at times, particularly for a man who had spent already too long living alone with his thoughts. Ben Kenobi hadn't expected this, hadn't planned to face anything for— for a long time, but there really appears to be no way to avoid it. And now he struggles to understand, to cope with the idea that there would be no returning to the desert, no dusty reunion with his sun-baked hovel, to a solitary life he had set forth before himself.

Perhaps it's for the best; he was bound to go crazy living in that desert all by himself.

There are tricks to avoiding the exhaustion, at least — old tricks that lack effectiveness, but work nonetheless. Foods and drinks provide a certain amount of energy, some better than others, and he lingers in that sweet spot there, halfway between exhausted worse, clinging to local remedies instead of drawing on the Force to sap away the heaviness from his entire being. He can't. No, he won't. The ability would never be elude him, but for now he would remain at arm's length with the Force.

As luck would have it, most of the districts are not lacking in amenities, goods, or services, nor do they display of dearth of people willing to give suggestions, some more practical than others.

It will do. For now, it will have to.]

OOC: Ben will be acting as a nomad, moving from district to district. There are starters in the comments, but if you want or need something written custom, feel free to start a scene or PM me at this journal for some plotting. We can totally work something out!

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[ If asked, he'll likely call it beginner's luck, but as it stands, Ben's windfall is anything but. Strategically, he'd overheard the good news — "Three-hundred thousand, just like that!" — and had employed this new-found knowledge fairly intently and quickly, but he hasn't since had the urge to share the information himself. Not because he's greedy — he's far from that — but instead because he hopes to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Of course, he isn't as good at that as he'd like.

Having found himself an establishment serving something suspiciously like caf, he seats himself a quiet end of the high bar and consumes the bitter, but not unpleasant liquid until he's certain he'll have the shakes for days. It doesn't feel like enough, like he's fully awake, but eventually even a tincture of common sense is enough to know when approaching too much.

Somehow a remarkable combination of wired and overdrawn, he slips from his stool, thinks about it twice, and then goes to order one for the road.

When he reaches the counter, though, he must realize better of himself. Instead, he mutters from beneath his hooded cloak to the only other person standing in line with him. ]

This one's on me. And if you'll take the suggestion, the christelas are quite nice, too.

[ And then he presents payment to the clerk before any argument can be made, whether one is about to start or not. It's his one accommodation he's making to this place for the time being and he's strangely not feeling all that deterred. ]

[ To come down later, Ben will need a drink. It isn't quite considered a pastime, but when judged against that former life, it's one of the few remaining commonalities that he hasn't attempted to shed quickly.

The bar is dark, full of plush fabrics and subtle scent cues, every bit an obviously player in this theatrical district. There are no points to be given for guessing its purpose, and for as strange as it is knowing that intimacy is happening everywhere around him, Kenobi finds himself feeling the least exposed in Luxuria, where everyone seems to be that much more focused on themselves.

He knows he can't stay long — that eventually he would be consumed by his own flagrantly fanned needs — but for the moment he doesn't feel like doing much more than indulging in healthy helping of alcohol.

Somewhere near the end of a drink, something strikes him and he asks down the row of neighbors seated at the bar. ]

Do you think you have to pay more here to rent an empty bed?

[ Crass? Perhaps. But this is more than he's talked to anyone in quite some time and it takes a little getting used to. ]

[He doesn't know why he's back here. Probably because he's a little overwhelmed by the fact he ever came here the first time. And that box is still burning a hole in his pocket as he sits on a stool in a very dark bar. The initial thought pushes him to 'return' the gift because it's from Luxuria. The second thought whispers that he's being stupid and just turn around and head back out the way he came.

In the end, he's sitting on a bar stool taking the time for one drink before he gives up the ghost and high tails it out of the red district. If anything, because it gets under his skin and reminds him exactly why he bought the gift and returning it is just tom foolery.

Then a voice breaks through his mental turmoil and he is left blinking at it. In seconds, he ducks his head and starts to laugh. A sort of tension breaks in his chest as he turns his head to look at the man that said it.] You're kiddin' right? I'm sure there's not an empty bed in this entire district. But let me know how that pans out for ya.

[ The sound of a laugh would be almost strange to his ears if Ben hadn't spent at least a little time sitting quietly amidst people having a good bit of fun. But McCoy's laugh is different — highly genuine, enough to give Kenobi cause to smile a bit in appreciation. He hadn't meant it as a joke, but he could see the humor regardless. ]

Given the reported affect this place has on its visitors, I suspect that wouldn't last very long, anyway.

[ He lifts his drink — the best he's found, although he hasn't been trying very hard — and salutes his companion. ]

Just passing through.

[ Both a confession and a statement if he's to guess correctly; from the look of it, McCoy isn't settling in. ]

Guess that only works if you don't have someone specifically on your mind or if you like that kind of activity?

[He offers his thoughts easily, but he has no intention of getting a room here. Hell, he was planning on high tailing it out of there pretty quickly at that. But maybe it's nice to meet someone with a sense of humor at least mostly.

Tipping his head in acknowledgement to the 'passing through' comment, he finished off his drink and slid it away from him. He'd not drank this munch in a long time and he likely needs to stop.]

Are you with the Eluvio crew? Or just vacationing here?

[ Ben doesn't consider the greater implications — he would find solace in no one — and instead tugs up the rugged brown sleeve of his outer robe to reveal the communication device affixed to his wrist. It wouldn't be his first choice, nor his second or fifth, but he's listened to the cautionary tales and he's not about to ditch his only comm. ]

By default, a bit of both.

[ He hides his tech, tucks it back away in the folds of his sand-softened attire. When he has a little more time, he'll have to do a bit better at blending in. ]

My name's Ben.

[ He's had to practice that more than he'd ever like to admit, but it's confident enough for a man who had been called by a different name for thirty-eight years. ]

[Leonard leans a bit to get a look at the communicator and nods. He lifts his own hand in turn and pulls the sleeve up to show him.] I'm still gettin' to know everyone on the ship. Doesn't help matters that I don't live on the Eluvio.

[Made it a bit harder to get to know people. So, in essence, he wouldn't know if he or Ben had gotten there first or not. Sometimes it was just nice to know who you traveled with.]

McCoy. Dr. Leonard McCoy. [He tips his head in an inclined greeting and starts to stand from his stool.] And I think I've lingered here long enough... plan on stayin' long here in the red light district, Ben? Was thinkin' of shoppin' through books in another district to learn more of the xenobiology in these parts if you'd like to come along?

[ There's a moment of long consideration, but there really isn't a need for it. For as quiet as this district has been for him, he doesn't see himself sticking around, even for a decent night of sleep.

He slides his empty glass toward the bartender and follows the other man's example. ]

Of course.

[ Kenobi nods toward the door, ready to leave whenever. He has nowhere to be, so he'll follow McCoy's lead. ]

You live on one of the other ships then. Did it arrive with you?

[Offerin' a small smile, he nods then starts for the door.]

I live on the Enterprise. I served on it back where I'm from. I... it's hard to say. It was here when I arrived. And so was my captain. I assume she came with him.

[Seems only fitting that Jim will never be separated from his beloved ship. The idea of it is just heresy. Something he shakes his head at a little.]

Least it's a little comfort... still feels strange bein' on it without the rest of our crew.

[He turns to arch a brow in curiosity at Ben as he makes way for the gate to leave this district.] How 'bout you? Arrive with anything from back where you're from?

[ The name of the ship is intriguing. He wonders on the type of ship, on its purpose, but doesn't ask. He's already imagining something larger by how Leonard talks about it; it wouldn't be nearly as remarkable if there were only three of them on board.

Ben leaves behind his token at the gate, having no intention of returning to this place now that the urge to sleep has all but passed. He can survive on so little, and does so quietly, which is exactly the reason he found himself arriving alone. ]

Only a few personal items.

[ Mainly clothing. He doesn't have much to bring, anyway, with no ship and very few personal belongings. At least he can feel relief in knowing that he wasn't quite close enough to drag Luke into this trouble. Force knows, Kenobi has a habit of that, and wild space is certainly no place for a newborn. ]

You sound as if you're accustomed to all of this, Doctor. Is it safe to say this isn't your first kidnapping?

[ His tone is rueful, at best. Ben doesn't appreciate the forced relocation. ]

[She still has all but one token left, although Padmé is uncertain whether she does truly have any desire to visit any of the other areas. It is a predicament there, for exploring may well mean further clarity about the situation that she has found herself in, but it could also not. It could also leave her distracted, and some of the districts do not look like areas that she would simply take a stroll in.

It is rather obvious that what she had known and had been doing do not necessarily apply here. While she cannot say that there isn't a war going on here, the players that she is familiar with are lacking. It's not a bad thing, mind, as Padmé has always stood against the war and seeks a resolution for it. It is a moot point at the moment, but she stands there, eyes dropping to the tokens, before shifting back to the crowds.

She doesn't expect a familiar face, which is why she squints, staring, at the movement that catches her eye. For a moment she thinks that perhaps she is mistaken, but no, no, she would know Obi-Wan anywhere. With a few excuse mes and pardon mes, Padmé is threw the crowd, before lightly calling out.]

Obi-Wan?

[ Hearing his own name is jarring enough, but following his most recent run of luck, he suspects that name is something of a harbinger in and of itself. And still, he has told himself to not react to it — to show no outward sign of recognition for fear that he would so easily give himself away, despite being in hiding.

But he hears her, and much as it was with Anakin, he questions whether it is truly Padmé's familiar voice — one he knows as well as his own — or just what his addled mind has created in the wake of one of the greatest tragedies he'd experienced in all his years.

Ben feels the squeeze around his heart as he considers leaving outright, but the sheer impertinence of that keeps his boots glued to the ground. His head dips and he turns to meet her, although he doesn't dare lift his gaze. ]

Senator.

[ She is not in his mind, but here in the flesh, alive and vital, unlike the last time they'd seen each other. Oh, how he had failed her. At least with the beard, he doesn't have to bother hiding his bruised jaw, although the rest of him can't seem to hold back on his utter sense of shame. He hides his hands in his sleeves, but even that doesn't hide the way they're shaking. ]

I didn't see you there, I-I'm sorry.

[There is a moment, a brief flutter, wherein Padmé does think that perhaps she is mistaken, that perhaps it is mere coincidence, and that it is not he. Yet when he does finally turn, and when Padmé does come to a stop before him, she knows that she was not wrong. It is Obi-Wan.

And yet...

Her brow furrows ever so. There is once where she would have thought him to be a cold man, especially after Geonosis, but she has come to know him better. Padmé is not a Force user, has no access to it, but she doesn't need to it read the wrongness. Perhaps she might understand it better, but she can tell that something is the matter. She just doesn't know what- aside from this whole situation, mind.

It is all those little things that are not Obi-Wan at all that has her voice lowering, softening, gently asking.]

What is it? Has something happened? Are you alright?

[ Ben is, by definition, not the least be all right, but he's alive, which is more than he knows to say of Padmé Amidala. His heart wrenches in his chest as he remembers her gasping out her final words to him: There is good in him. I know there is still...

She had seemed so certain, even after everything that had happened. How he wished he could have been so brave and so loyal to Anakin, who meant so much to them both.

Sensing her concern, he swallows down the uneasiness he feels inside and reaches out to grasp her elbow gently. ]

Yes, I'm all right. Just a— Just feeling a little light-headed, that's all.

[ He shouldn't lie, he knows he shouldn't, but if Padmé were to know the whole story, she'd certainly forgive his small untruth. ]

Had I known you were here...

[ The rest goes unsaid. He would never have guessed he might see her alive again. ]

[There is that lack of understanding in her, and that attempt to try to understand regardless of that fact. There is something missing, although there is no clear sign to say what that something is. She nods lightly though, eyes still scanning his face, but she does trust him, and despite the fact that she did wed Anakin, Obi-Wan has been there for him, and for her.]

Perhaps we can find somewhere to sit down? Or a drink of water?

[Yet her lips quirk ever so, curling up at one side, and her hand reaches out, to squeeze lightly upon his arm. It isn't as if she has known that there is anyone here, and only coming to this planet has Padmé started to realize the greater scope of events around her.]

I've just arrived not that long ago, Obi-Wan, and I can't say I exactly announced my presence.

[ He nods to her suggestion and makes his way to a nearby bench, easing himself down on one side and leaving plenty of room for Amidala. He can see her occasionally out of the corner of his eye, but there's far too much fear in him to look at her straight on, his addled mind telling him he'll see nothing but her pained expression as he'd seen it at the very end. ]

No, I can't imagine you'd want to do that. It seems there's no use for it when so few, if any, would recognize your name.

[ Initially, he had felt that fortunate. Now that he's seen there are other from his galaxy, he feels less fortunate, as the name Kenobi is certain to stick out to anyone who might actually know him. ]

Are you— [ He hesitates. ] —well?

[The tokens in her pocket are all but forgotten, the different districts all but a backdrop behind them. She does sink gracefully on to the bench beside him, body angled slightly toward his own. From what she can tell, he doesn't seem injured in body, although from experience with her husband, it is sometimes hard to tell.

Something seems to weight upon him though. Arguably Jedi seem to have that aura of mystery around them, perhaps diminished slightly in her own mind since she had wed one, but there is always that veil that is drawn. That they may peek behind it at times, seeing within in, yet Padmé would say that it is there today, thick.

That she does notice his lack of eye contact is hardly surprising. She is a politician, and is trained to pick up on those little things. Yet she remains, hands resting calmly upon her lap, but with a concerned expression on her face.]

It is strange to be somewhere where not even Coruscant is known.

[Padmé isn't surprised over Naboo. It's not a seat of power. It has, for the most part, been steady. A lush planet, it is the Trade Federation that had had eyes turning towards it, and the war has not touched it as deeply as it had some other planets. Yet Coruscant... It is a planet with wealth and power, the centre for the Republic.

His question is considered, as if trying to unravel whatever thought he has with it, although she has no idea why it concerns her so.]

Well enough, or perhaps as well as one can expect. I'm not overly fond at having been taken from my duties, but I accept that at the moment, I will have to make do.

[ It doesn't pass him over that she seems more pointed in her observations, and that is truly the Padmé he recalls. Even without the Force, without Jedi training, he's come to find politicians are especially aware of the ebb and flow of the emotions around them. ]

Indeed, we will have to make due.

[ But what exactly that will come to mean, he cannot say, nor does he wish to guess. Given the way they are — from different stages in their lives, in their histories — there's no telling what the future might hold.

Ben looks momentarily torn, on the verge of something. When he does finally lift his eyes to meet hers, they're full of regret. ]

Have you seen Anakin?

[For better or for worse, if one wishes to survive as a Senator, such observations are key. Padmé has never been one to abuse the abilities, although she cannot say the same for all others. There are valid reasons as to why some do not like politicians, and she cannot blame them for that sentiment.

She does note how he seems to ponder, to think, before he does finally decide to lift his head. Yet even then, the emotion upon his countenance is enough to make a chill trickle down Padmé's spine, although she cannot explain why.]

Anakin? Yes.

[In another district already, although she has seemingly misplaced her husband at the moment. She knows now that she will meet him on the ship at least, if she does not come across him again. Yet she leans forward, a hand on his arm again, although she does manage to keep her voice fairly level.]

Has something happened?

[ The warmth of human contact feels so undeserved, particular from this young woman. He can't relieve himself of the sight of her gasping for air just as he can't forget the way he felt her life drain away. It's miraculous and heartbreaking all at once to look into those deep eyes and see true concern.

His own concern echoes plainly on his face but it's quickly replaced by a more steady calm; it's much easier to focus on the moment at hand. ]

Is there a moment where something isn't happening?

[ Rhetorical, almost rueful, but he doesn't think he's wrong, even if he feels awfully evasive at the moment. ]

This place presents more of a challenge than I would have expected. [ And then, as if confessing: ] Anakin and I traded... angry, unfortunate words in the Ira district, I'm afraid.

[There might have been a slight tenseness in her own posture, waiting for his answer while trying not to give too much away. Had something happened to him? Had he been injured? Should she make a casual excuse and go see? Yet that sentence of his does reach her, and she allows a breath out, feeling her shoulders slip down. She mistakes his expression for worry or concern, and puzzles over it when he speaks.]

There doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day.

[And there is always something happening. Sleep is often a stranger for Padmé, although she doesn't regret the choices she has made. But there is true surprise on her face with his admission. Ira... She hadn't been in that district, but it is still shocking. She knows that there are times where they might not agree, just as her and Anakin don't, but it is still surprising.]

Ira? I'm not familiar with that particular district. Did- did something happen?

[Or rather, what happened...]

Anakin was having an altercation.

[ This isn't him throwing Anakin under the bus, mind you, but giving the only real excuse he has. Had it been up to him, he would have avoided Skywalker altogether.

He shifts, not quite uncomfortable, but definitely feeling the scrutiny. Funny, he remembers being a much better actor than he's currently feeling. But, then again, it isn't nearly as simple to hide what he feels when it comes to those closest to him. ]

I interrupted it. It wasn't my intention, of course.

[ Bare, minimal facts. He's not sparing much more at this point. ]

[An altercation? Why in the stars was he having an altercation? Then again, Padmé could think of several reasons why he might. If someone was doing something that he hadn't agreed with, Anakin would not have simply stood by and let them continue.

Yet, is that all?

Padmé would have said that Obi-Wan fit his name of The Negotiator. He was calm and steady, someone that she had grown to admire over the years. Looking at him now, she knows that there is something else there, but what else that might be isn't clear.]

He got angry at you for interrupting? Who or what was he arguing about?

It wasn't obvious to me what had happened and I didn't think it prudent to pry.

[ Which, let's be real, has always been a bit of a problem. It's one of those things that they'd never fully reconciled, where Skywalker would hope for a little prying — just a little sign to show some concern — and Kenobi would neglect to do so for some inane reason (or even no reason at all). In retrospect, and knowing what he does now, it doesn't feel like a particularly healthy way to go about things. ]

—only because I understand how these districts are meant to work: Any emotions drawn to the surface are certain to be exacerbated.

[ And then, a very slight downturn of the corners of his mouth. ]

It was most certainly my fault things went the way they did. An unfortunate turn of events...

[There is a pause, before Padmé nods lightly. They are brothers, or at is how she would claim them to be. She knows that it is not something so easily put in to words. Once, indeed, Master and Padawan, although these days Obi-Wan and Anakin seem to flow together as they move across the galaxy, defending the Republic.]

Ira district... [Her gaze shifts offward although does inward, mind working that over. She has only been within the one, and even now, the frenzy of want that had overtaken her seems muted, gone, a thing of the past. She could not even explain, as she should have thought many other things in meeting her husband here. Even now, it is fuzzy and jumbled, her mind still not quite turning as it once might have.]

Ire.

[Anger?

It is something that is asked more rhetorically said than asking it of him. It would make sense, in an odd way, given the last district she was in. But she shakes her head, hand squeezing his arm again.]

I do not think you should shoulder the blame, Obi-Wan.

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Nomad [open]

Avaritia

Luxuria

God help him, but he hates me for putting him in Luxuria again. XD

It could probably be worse!!

TRUE... but still. XD

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