Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Deterioration of the Fight or Flight Response


Illyria wasn't certain what she had been expecting when boarding the spacecraft but from the expression on her face, the way her mouth was pulled into a tight line, and how brows drew together in a judgemental stare, she was not at all impressed. The interior was not much to look at as far as the young noble was concerned, and she'd wager Luna was happy with that, which wouldn't be surprising at all. Still, the ship had a certain charm to it. It was quiet inside, the click of her heels the only sound heard as she made explorations. It was quiet and the solitude was nice. Illyria hadn't told Luna or Abel about her intended vacation from Naboo, no, she had instead found Luna's ship in the hanger and boarded without hesitation or permission.

The truth was she needed to get away just for a few days. After a recent argument with her mother who had the audacity to suggest Illyria was spending too much time training, too much time with Abel, she had to get away before she said something regrettable. So she had made the decision that she would leave Naboo for a short while--Knights business she had told her relatives, knowing that they would not question it. Her father often used her occupation as a way to bolster himself. Look at our brave daughter, helping the galaxy. We're so proud. It was these things that had bought her to be standing in the guest quarters of the ship.

The bed looked to be in decent condition; the sheets even looked clean, which was an added bonus. "It will do for a few days." She said as she settled onto the bed, legs crossed as she waited. And after only a short while the rumble of the engines and the shifting of the ship beneath her heeled feet told her Luna had returned and was likely readying to takeoff. Illyria supposed she should go find her and tell her the truth.

Or she could let Luna find her once they had reached light speed, where the other woman would likely be less willing to turn around. Besides, the two of them were padawans to the same master. Some quality bonding time would do them good. "As if." She snorted.​

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“Ahh..Home sweet home.” Truthfully, the worn pilot seat and the streak of hyperspace had brought a bit of solace to Luna’s troubled mind and heart. It wasn’t Abel or Illyria or even the training or endless lessons in duty. In fact, despite its odd and decadent ways, the young Smuggler had started to become accustomed to the funny way people dressed or ate or talked or acted on Naboo. She had grown to enjoy seeing the different architecture on her sleepless nights as she gazed out one of the many large windows or found herself in the garden by moonlight.

No, it had been building since Lorta; Luna had felt something shift on the rather intense and unique mission. While most would have broken down and said something, the burden was hers alone. While she found herself drawn to Abel in many ways, he didn’t need the added stress. Not to mention that she couldn’t even admit to the man that her feelings had begun to grow into something other than a Master-Apprentice-friendship; how could she share more if she had been too much of a coward to voice her own feelings?

And Illyria. Luna knew that the soft-handed young woman couldn’t handle what her past had to offer and it wasn’t as if the pair were on the best of terms as was. Both were like night and day and not even mentioning the fact that the young Smuggler didn’t want to get either of them in trouble or danger. But the mental and emotional pressure that had been building had begun to take a toll on her. Whispered voices. Memories she thought she had forgotten worming their way in. Even now, in the best of her elements, the young Smuggler felt off. She couldn’t tell if this was a warning or just her psyche finally cracking from all the years of booze, pills, and stress. Even sitting in the one place that had always felt like home was crumbling and it was as if years of building walls and a safe haven were finally catching up with her.

Whatever was causing it wasn’t from the cutting down of the pills or the day drinking or drinking in general. Luna still heard the voices and whispers no matter what vice she chose to partake in. But still, it didn’t hurt to keep trying. “There you are, baby.” Reaching over, Luna grabbed a rather large glass bottle which was about half full. Popping the cork out, she ran her slender fingers over the worn words of 'Co-Pilot' written on them. A joke, to be certain but perhaps a few days alone with her...Co-pilot would help. After all, she found Naboo’s choices of drinks a bit watered down for her tastes.


Taking a long drink she leaned back with a satisfied sigh at the feeling of the deep burning in the back of her throat. While things had been draining, the young Smuggler was thankful that she had been able to get away for a few days. With her new path in life, Luna had wanted to dump off some of the unclaimed cargo with an old contact. It had been sitting around for some time and with a few promised credits for it left her to jump at the chance to stretch her pilot legs rather than worry about the monetary value. Years of stashing and long hours of work had made her more well off than she ever admitted. While Tatooine wasn’t next-door neighbors, it wasn’t across the Galaxy either leaving enough time to warm the pilot seat and enjoy a bit of her old life. Luna would be gone no more than a day or two but it was enough to hopefully help clear her head.

“Luna…” Mid-swig off of her bottle, the young Smuggler snapped her head upwards looking behind her- some of the booze ran down her chin as she wiped it away in a hurry. “You stupid frack. There’s nothing there.”
She gave herself a bit of a chuckle despite the pit that always grew when she heard things. But there was...still something on board. Capping co-pilot, Luna’s eyebrows furrowed some as she stood up from her seat and made her way through her ship. While the young Smuggler was still learning the ways in the Force, she hadn’t fully realized that the footprint she had felt as she had taken off was coming from her very ship. Someone was here- even if it had nothing to do with the voices in her head or the impending doom she felt.

Moving much quicker now, long legs making their rounds to each room and her boots hitting hard off of the durasteel flooring. There wasn't a space on the YT 2400 that was left unturned.
“What the HELL?!” The words came in surprise, almost matching the sounds of the ship’s loud hum as the young Smuggler found herself in one of the last guest rooms. Emerald eyes blazing she entered- she had been half tempted to slap Illyria, who seemed content to make herself at home. She stood in front of her as she placed her hands angrily on her hips as looked down at the young Noble. Not only was her time to herself spoiled, but it was done so by someone equally spoiled. “What are you doing here - do you realize the trouble you’ve just put me in?!” She at the very least hoped that Illyria had mentioned it to Abel; the last thing she needed was her family thinking Luna kidnapped her for some unknown reason. But who would want someone as insufferable as her? Luna couldn’t guess. Please tell me you let someone know that you’re here.”


SINGLE | 33 | HETEROSEXUAL | BLASTER PISTOL • VIBROBLADE | @tag


 
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Having made herself at home in the solitude of that room it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was almost like she could breathe for the first time in years. It wasn't that she wanted to run away or never see her family again. No, Illyria was not so naively childish. She needed a break -- from them, from the parties, from the expectations. She needed time to herself -- time to be herself and not be worried about what might happen if she was not perfect event minute of every day.

So it was nice to be able to sit down and slouch, to read a trashy romance novel, to drink something that wasn't flavoured water or expensive wine. Except like all good the goods things in her life, the moment was short-lived. The moment the door had been thrown open whatever feelings of happiness were squashed and stomped dead to the ground. In its place was something colder.

“What the HELL?!

Illyria signed and closed her eyes to hide the way they rolled with annoyance. Was yelling really necessary? She closed the book and placed it down on the bed before standing, her own emerald eyes blazing as she turned to confront Luna. "I told them I had business to attend to." She answered simply, her tone short and irritable. Her family had not questioned it. She'd then told Abel she was dealing with family affairs. She hadn't told Luna a thing. The triple threat of deception was meant to afford her a few moments of peace and quiet.

"It would seem to me that we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I thought it might be beneficial for us to spend time together and learn to get along. If not for our shake, for Abel's." She was manipulating the situation in her favour, using both of their feelings for the man to suit her whims. After all, it wasn't so horrible that the two of them learn to get along and it would certainly make his life easier.

Though one of them might die in the process.​

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There was a promise from the young Noble that she hadn’t run off half-cocked and disappeared from her family and from Abel. And while this was good news, a pit only grew in Luna’s stomach as she looked at her pretty face full of annoyance and disdain. There were plenty of places to vacation and the young Smuggler’s old ship should have been the last place that the younger woman should have found herself on. "It would seem to me that we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I thought it might be beneficial for us to spend time together and learn to get along. If not for our sake, for Abel's."

She didn’t get it. Luna wasn’t in the headspace to have company at the moment let alone someone she was only cordal with because of their training. There wasn’t anything wrong with Illyria perse, but the insufferable way that she carried herself about was. And with the young Smuggler feeling as if she was losing her mind as of late, the last thing she needed was to babysit. “Oh, no- don’t you give me that.” As frustrated as she was, the ashen-haired woman’s words came out exhausted and worn down as she attempted to shake her finger at Illyria to show just how much disapproval still hung about but it meant less when she couldn’t hold herself to the same tone.

“I can’t have you here. I just-” she paused, running her hand against her face with a deep sigh. “Nevermind. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” The last part came out a huff and a mutter as her emerald eyes almost blazed through the young Noble. There wasn’t anything that either of them could do about it - not with them streaking through hyperspace well on their way to Tatooine. Had Illyria ever been to such a hot, sandy planet? Had she ever been off of Naboo, period? Luna was simply on the edge and while her easy-going self was in short supply, she’d have to pull herself together if either of them were going to make it back without it ending with the other woman getting her back side handed to her. She didn’t like the feeling of agitation, fear, and paranoia that had replaced her old state. It was cold and isolating and she was running out of options on how to handle herself.

“I don’t even have food you’d probably eat here. Red meat? Booze? I don’t have fruit or salads.” Nodding reluctantly for Illyria to follow her, Luna led them to the lounge- if they were going to be stuck together and she at least keep some semblance that she wasn’t internally falling apart, Luna would have to play a good host, despite the urge to strangle the young Noble for at least not asking first. It may have been a resounding no, but she would have had more respect for the other woman. “No horderves. No fancy cocktail...things.”


The lounge was connected to the galley- one of the few items that were custom on the ship so the young Smuggler could live on it like it was a home. Pointing to the rather comfortable seats, Luna made her way to the galley before fishing out two bottles- popping the lids off the little island that separated her from the lounge, she made her way over to the young Noble before taking a seat a bit over from her. Propping her feet up on the table in the center, she sucked down about half before giving her a bit of a still disdained glance every so often.

It wasn’t going to come easy, but by the Force, she’d try to keep herself in check. “...Luna” Her head twitched some at the whispering that had grown frequent in her head and did her best to drown it out with the rest of the bottle and a sigh. “At least tell me you’ve been off-planetside?” If Illyria hadn’t been away from home very little or at all, she was about to get a rude awakening on Tatooine.

SINGLE | 33 | HETEROSEXUAL | BLASTER PISTOL • VIBROBLADE | Illyria Le Fey Illyria Le Fey


 


The expression on her face was haughty as she silently dared Luna to finish her sentence, to try and deny her. Luna would find Illyria a difficult person to dissuade once her mind was set on something. Thankfully she thought better and instead indicated for the young noble to follow, which Illyria did so after a moment of hesitation. Teeth bite violently into the tongue to stop a reply from being spoken, and the taste of blood-stained her palate. There was so much she could have said. She could have called Luna a fething imbecile for implying she had nothing to eat because there was no fruit or salad, as though she was was a rabbit. She could have tried to defend herself but it wouldn't do any good with someone like Luna.

The fact of the matter was Luna had taken one look at Illyria, had seen the prim and proper way she presented herself, and the way she demanded attention and made a snap judgment. Illyria doubted anything short of a miracle would change her mind. "I don't need fancy cocktails or hors d'oeuvres. I'm not a child. I will eat and drink what is offered because that is the polite thing to do when you are a guest." The words had a distinct chill to them as Illyria accepted the bottle and took a seat on one of the more comfortable seats.

She was trying--really she was.

Illyria was holding her tongue when she wanted to insult her. She was, despite having snuck aboard the ship, being quiet in an attempt to give them both a moment of peace because it was obvious they both needed it. And it wasn't that she hated Luna or wanted to be her enemy. They were very different women who had firmed quick opinions about one another. Illyria wanted Luna to understand that she wasn't some pint-sized brat. And she hoped that Luna was more than a bully. The truth was they didn't know anything about each other. But being anything more than bickering acquaintances seemed like a long shot in those few moments of quiet.

"You're joking." This time the tone had been distinctly annoyed. Slender fingers gripped the bottle tighter, as though she wanted to break it, preferably over Luna's head. "Are you drunk or high? Maybe both? Or maybe, just maybe, you have your head so far up your own ass--" in the privacy of this room all ladylike mannerism were gone "--that you can't see what's happening two feet in front of you." Illyria could not figure out what Luna's problem was.

"I was on Lorta with you."​

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As the young Noble accepted the bottle, Luna could see the icy chill of disdain flickering behind her warm eyes. It confused her for a moment; unsure of where it had come from considering she had been concerned about Illyria having something to eat. “ I didn’t realize the fancy and pretty Nobles ate anything but.” She gave a bit of a sheepish smirk and grin despite her raunchy mood. The young Smuggler knew nothing of the Noble life other than what was fed to her by Abel and as someone who had grown up in the slums of Corellia and lived a life on the run, she knew it left her ignorant to the more posh lifestyle.

"Are you drunk or high? Maybe both? Or maybe, just maybe, you have your head so far up your own ass--" But it had seemed that her following question only earned her more disdain but this time it was verbal. It dripped from the young Noble’s pretty lips like honey from the comb. Luna’s eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful haze remembering that she had, indeed, been on Lorta. Her insult had been finished and the young Smuggler put her hands up in defeat. “You see how many pills and booze you consume in a day. I think you’re smart enough to know the answer to your own question.”

Luna wouldn’t lie to herself- the words had stung a bit; Illyria knew nothing of her life and knew nothing of what she was going through. The young Smuggler knew the same more than likely could be said of the young Noble but unless she was told otherwise, Luna could only speak her own truth. Looking down at her bottle for a moment in an attempt to hide the confidence that wavered in her eyes, she gave a small sigh as her long, slender fingers tapped the bottle.

“I...I remember. I just have a lot going on at the moment, that's all.” Luna hoped it was enough to get the young Noble off her back for just a moment- it was the first indication that she had given anyone that she was internally struggling. And since It seemed that no matter what she said Illyria had a problem with, perhaps she’d understand a little better. Giving a gentle sigh, Luna abruptly got up and made her way to the kitchen to at least prepare them some sort of meal before they landed. “How do you like your steak?”

Her tone was heavier than anticipated as she heated the well-greased skillet on the gasser and pulled out two decently sized steaks and began to prepare the seasonings and side dishes. Mini potatoes smothered in butter and garlic paired with some greens. She worked with expert skill as the space began to fill with the aromas of the food that was being cooked. Making dishes was one of the few things Luna had done in the past to try and cope and thankfully, she was good at it. “So...If you don’t need fancy cocktails and alike, what does a Noble like? And do, for that matter?” She paused for a moment as she flipped the steaks over in the pan. She’d do her best to make conversation- at the very least it might help the voices in her head.”Abel gave me some indication but growing up in the slums of Corellia doesn’t leave you much in the way of anything fancy.”


SINGLE | 33 | HETEROSEXUAL | BLASTER PISTOL • VIBROBLADE | Illyria Le Fey Illyria Le Fey
 
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The anger left her in a long sigh as Luna's response took the wind from her sails and made her expression soften. It wasn't the answer she was expecting but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Illyria looked away and busied herself with her drink, swallowing a mouthful and allowing Luna to speak without interruptions while her own through battered her. The two of them really knew very little about one another, and perhaps she had jumped the gun with her anger. "Medium-rare."

The silence that followed was welcomed as it gave both women a moment to cool off and reevaluate the situation. Illyria finished her drink much too quickly and with nothing to occupy her attention, it turned to Luna. She found it mildly enjoyable to watch her work. Having not spent any extended period of time with her prior to today, Illyria thought it was nice to see her doing something productive instead of going out of her way to be a pain in the ass.

There was also something else about Luna that held her attention... something she couldn't put her finger on. Illyria was still trying to decide out if she needed to be worried or if she needed to contact Abel. Illyria blinked when Luna asked her a question. "Abel might have offered you an inside but the truth is, he and I had very different upbringings." She wasn't trying to be antagonistic, it was just the truth. His childhood on the mean streets of Nar Shaddaa had been vastly different from her childhood in wealth and privilege.

"I like whiskey." She answered after having decided it was a safe topic. Illyria didn't know how much about his personal life Abel had disclosed to Luna and it wasn't her place to talk about it. But herself? She could talk until her throat hurt. "It's not something that is in abundance at the Le Fey residence - it's mostly wine and champagne. Fancy drinks."​

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“Well, good to know I don’t have to hate you based on your cooked steak choice.” Luna did her best to recover and hide the gaping wounds that were held together with drinking and pills. Letting the steaks sear for the proper amount of time, the young Smuggler simply listened to her fellow student.

It seemed that Illyria didn’t love all the things that were shiny and glitter and were made of precious metals or stones. In that aspect, Luna could see the similarities between her and the Blonde but their overall demeanor? They clashed terribly. And while there was nothing that either could do about that. But at the sound of whiskey, the young Smuggler perked up some. Pulling the steaks from the heat and snapping her fingers, she made haste to the cargo bay- coming back with two large bottles of Corellian Whiskey.
“I got a ton of this stuff in the back.”

Pouring from the one, the amber liquid filled two mason-type jars well past half and she made her way over to the young Noble and passing one-off. “Maybe if you don’t end up being a huge pain in the arse, I’ll let you sneak back a bottle or two.” For maybe the first time since the whole ordeal started, Luna gave Illyria a grin and swung her glass in her general direction as to a toast before she downed almost all of it in one go.

She gave a small hiccup before finishing plating the rest of the food and making her way back over, she handed it off along with eating utensils and a napkin before plopping down next to her and digging in. Stabbing her steak and knawing on one end, Luna stopped halfway and gave a sigh and placed the plate on the table in front of them, and began sawing at the large piece of meat.
“So, you like Whiskey and clearly have good taste when it comes to steaks; is there anything else about you that might pique my interest?”

Finally getting everything properly cut up, the young Smuggler got up long enough to refill her glass, offering a refill to the young Noble as well. The warmth of the first glass could be felt but hadn’t affected someone who was well adverse with drinking. “Do you make it a point to make off in random ships with strange people?” Her tone was clearly in jest as Luna plopped down and dug in. Her mouth had been a bit full when she spoke, but she did make an effort to hold the napkin up in front of her lips to hide anything offending. While the young Smuggler was curious about her, it was also anything to keep the conversation off of herself and on something else entirely.




SINGLE | 33 | HETEROSEXUAL | BLASTER PISTOL • VIBROBLADE | Illyria Le Fey Illyria Le Fey
 

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