Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Fragile Sound

He could feel his mind expanding with every question she answered, brain inflating like a balloon as it fought to hold this new wealth of knowledge he hadn't been prepared for. "Huh," was his initial response, not dismissive just... surprised. Considerate. He pondered it for a moment, then nodded his head a few times in appreciation. "Cool... Colours we can't even comprehend... I mean, I know other spectrums exist but, wow, I've never really even thought about it before, you know? About what other colours there are that I've never even seen..."
It was mindboggling. Kind of hurt his head to think about it really. Like trying to learn quantum theory. The more he focused on it, the more his brain hurt.
She turned to face him in the midst of their conversation, and so lost in the moment of it all, in the enjoyment of having such an unexpectedly deep conversation which had stemmed from Surv1vor of all things, he looked her way too. Caught sight of all she hadn't want him to see. He didn't even really process it at first, instead he went on answering her question as though nothing had happened.
"Me? Yeah... Human. Plain old human. Tetan, though. I'm from Empress Teta. My Father can trace our lineage way, way back, but," He shrugged.
And then it hit him.
The sight of the scars had been such a slow discovery that nothing seemed to shift or change within his person. No sudden spike of emotions, no extreme expressions, just a soft realization of what it was his eyes were processing. And then, rather than speak on it, he offered her a smile.
And turned right back to the holoscreen.
If she wanted to broker the subject, she would. If not? Well, at least now she wouldn't have to walk on eggshells trying to ensure he didn't see it. Some small mercy, no?
 

Iris_Sig.png

Empress Teta, huh?

Iris didn't know the world. She didn't know many worlds anyway. Then it was her turn to blink. Wrapped up in the show, the conversation, she'd forgotten what she was trying to hide. And.. Well. He didn't pry. He just looked back to the screen after he smiled. No pity, no sympathy or curiosity. Her own smile lessened, but it still remained. Her gaze followed in suit as she turned back to the screen.

She didn't even bother pulling the blanket back up.

".. Thank you, for this."

Lief Lief
 
She was quiet, much quieter than he was in essence, and it made for a large imbalance in their conversation; if she minded that, she didn't show it, and so long as she didn't care he found himself unphased by it also. This wasn't some social date or fancy dinner event, it was...
Well, he didn't rightly know what it was. Two beings, existing? A comfortable enough existence, made all the more so once the business of scars was out of the way. He could feel the weight lift from her shoulders, even though he didn't see anything tangible to indicate such. Maybe it was the way she let the blanket drape down, rather than clutching it so fiercely. Maybe it was that the smile still lingered upon her lips.
Maybe it was none of that, and mere intuition.
Either way, he didn't need to know.
"No need for thanks," he assured her, with another smile. Where originally he had felt nervous with the idea of approaching a stranger, as he had been bid, now he felt... At ease? Comfortable? How many shows they'd sat through he didn't rightly know. It would be dark out soon... Then what?
"Are you hungry?" His stomach grumbled, as though the question had been directed at it. "I don't think I remembered to eat this morning..." That was becoming something of a common occurrence. Something he sorely needed to work on. "Do you have a fast food preference?" He pulled out a holopad from his coat jacket, which had been draped over the side of the sofa, and began to tap away at buttons which would bring up various menu options.
He'd figure out what to do when it got too late, well, later.
 

Iris_Sig.png

Comfortable.

That was a good word for this. How she felt. Weird, probably, to literally anyone else looking in. Maybe Briana would think her weirder for it. A near stranger putting her at ease by watching some random game show on the holotv and making her coffee. There was no baggage though. No guilt. .. That's what it was. With Valery and Briana, Iris could see their guilt. They felt responsible for what had happened, in some way. Even though they didn't want Iris to see it, she just could.

Was that why she started covering her scars to begin with? In the silence Iris had a lot to reflect on. Lief Lief probably wouldn't know just how much he'd helped by just being here.

"Are you hungry?"

Yes. "Yeah." Asides from a bag of chips she'd been munching on and the coffee she'd been given, she hadn't eaten anything. Fast food though? What did she like to eat. She hummed softly, leaning over to stare at the screen in Eli's hands.

"A burger."
 
When she leaned over to take a look at the variety of options afforded to them by the great wide holonet, Eliphas shifted the pad in his hand just enough that it was easier for her to read. She settled on her selection fairly quickly, a burger. Alright, he let her click through the various options which popped up, meat type, bun, toppings, and then leaned back in his seat.
What did he want?
He pondered that for a moment, obviously limiting his choices to the same menu she'd selected from. It only made sense, that way food would arrive at the same time. And there'd only be one delivery droid inconvenienced. Maybe a pizza? It could make up for the slice he'd avoided back on Alderaan with Starlin Rand Starlin Rand way back when. Then there'd be leftovers, too. Maybe that would ensure Iris ate something for lunch tomorrow...
Pizza it was.
He added on a couple of soda's, for good measure, and then hit send. With a card already hooked up to the account, he didn't have to worry about payment or anything. All at once, after the act was already done, he realized what card it was. One from back home... Was that okay? Was that allowed? He was a Jedi, now, should he have been drawing upon family funds?
Eliphas didn't know. Maybe he'd ask, next time he saw Starlin or Valery Noble Valery Noble or... well... He didn't rightly know who else. Someone, though.
For a moment, after the order was placed, Eliphas seemed to scroll rather aimlessly on the pad. A few buttons clicked here, he stared at the screen for a few seconds, and then paused.
"Say, Iris," he set down the holopad, after it pinged with confirmation that their order had been received, "What are you doing tomorrow?" He waited a second, trying to gauge her reaction. If it made her withdrawn or defensive, he might have refrained from what was said next. Otherwise, he'd speak further. "There's a showing of Free Droid over at CMC Theaters. I heard it's supposed to be super funny..."
The boy swallowed back what little doubt rose within him. If she wanted to, they'd go, if not... Then he'd let it go. That was how things were working around here, right now, and it was a system that had proven to work.
 

Iris_Sig.png

Iris tilted her head, staring at the screen as Lief Lief put in his order for pizza of all things. She just stared, like she'd never seen one before. Sure enough, "Is that what a pizza looks like?" The only time she was about to eat a pizza was with Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri and Kyric Kyric , though that went horribly awry when a Sithspawn entered the kitchen. A fight broke out, and she left on her own.

She plopped back in her seat after a moment, lifting up her coffee to take another, longer sip. Coffee really was good. And it helped to hide the more sorrowful smile that formed as she thought about Kai again.

".. Hmm?" What was she doing tomorrow? "Physical therapy. Have to still rebuild the muscles." She lost a lot when she hit the ground. Mostly in her arm, but her leg, waist, more where the scars were. They'd did a good job helping her not look too disfigured, but there was only so much that could be done without introducing synthskin. Which, unfortunately for her, she turned out to be allergic to.

A movie, though? In a theater? She tilted her head, looking back to the holoscreen to think.

"I've never been in a theater. .. Are there a lot of people there?"
 
The simple, unintentional act of so innocently looking upon her earlier had moved mountains from between them; that was how it seemed to him, at least. There was just something about the way she was now, about how much more carefree she had become in so short a span of time, that made his heart positively glow.
"Yeah, you can have some if you'd like? From what I remember, it's really good. There's no way I could eat a full one... I figured you could have the leftovers, anyway, reheat it for lunch tomorrow or something." He'd smiled throughout. That smile didn't wane when she explained her plans for the next day, if anything the earlier feeling of moved mountains increased tenfold.
She was... talking. About it. In so small a way, but that's what it was all the same. He inhaled a slow breath to keep from losing his mind, and then nodded. "That makes sense, I figured I'd ask anyway!"
Then came her question.
No pizza. No holotheaters... Even Eliphas, in hit limited experiences of such, had done both of those things at least once. No, no, no he could not, he would not, let that drag down his mood. He'd seen the way such things had affected her.
"There can be; it depends, I guess, on what's showing. I'm pretty sure this is a rerun, though. They're usually a little quieter."
But she had PT. So he supposed it didn't matter. He'd go back to the drawing board...
 

Iris_Sig.png

"I had a slice once. I didn't know it came as a big circle. How many slices are usually in it?" Yeah, she was pretty curious about the pizza thing now. But her gaze stayed on the show, not really wanting to look away. The vote had just started, and all the drama with it. She was quiet for a bit, more just watching through the vote. Then frowned. "Aww.. I like C4. How could they betray em like that?"

She deflated, leaning back in her seat with a slight frown.

".. I dunno if I could watch a movie with a lot of people around. The colors would block out a lot."
 
The question had caught him off guard, and for a moment he mentally scrambled to count out the cuts. It wasn't something he was inherently familiar with, but he knew it, he just had to think; her intrigue made him intrigued.
"I think it depends on the size you order?" Yeah, that seemed about right. Was there an industry standard, though? How big was the one he'd just bought. He picked up the holopad again and checked. "Uh, says this one's 12 slices. That seemed to be the default." Yeah 12 was far more than he could eat for himself. There would be leftovers a plenty.
Come to think of it though, now that she had mentioned it... "Huh, I wonder why it is that shape?" The box they came in were square, but the pizza itself was circular. Did Iris know that? Because if not, boy was she going to be surprised. At least if present conversation was any indication.
With one of the Surv1vor droids eliminated, talks returned to the idea of a holomovie. It was as he had thought, a bust, but all the same he found he didn't regret asking. "That makes sense," he smiled. Consideration crossed his expression. Then the smile deepened.
"So what do you like to do? You know, when you're not traveling as a Jedi, or watching droids backstab one another? What does Iris like to do, just for herself?"
 

Iris_Sig.png

Twelve? The credits started to roll on the show, leaving Iris to think about the implications of twelve slices of pizza. That was a lot of pizza! And she could reheat it? Technology was truly amazing at times! Though, shape? Iris leaned back over, near crawling from her blanket cave to peer at what he was talking about. A square box. What was- wait. Iris reached out, snatching the pad as she pulled it a mere inch from her face. Hastily scrolling between the image of the box and the pizza, back and forth.

What sorcery was this!?

"Why not make the box round? Or the pizza square? There's so much wasted space!" Yeah, that's what caught her attention. She frowned deeply, leaning back on the couch beside Lief Lief , completely out of the blankets. The scars were on full display, well. Mostly. Iris's lazy day clothing tended to be a tank top and shorts, but the extent of her scars was pretty easy to see. Her whole right arm, shoulder, some of her chest. Her right leg. She'd hit the ground and slid against it, ripping apart quite a large portion of her body.

"So what do you like to do? You know, when you're not traveling as a Jedi, or watching droids backstab one another? What does Iris like to do, just for herself?"

Huh? She blinked, lifting her gaze from the holopad to look at the boy again. What did she like to do?

"I paint."
 
Her confusion was raw and intense and magnificent all at once. It mirrored his own where the box shape was concerned, and he found himself leaning up slightly, one leg tucking under him as he hastily nodded his agreement. She took the holopad and he let her, watching as she flicked back and forth between pizza and container, and back again, on and on 'til it became rather dizzying.
"I knooow" he laughed, shaking his head as the mindboggling moment was shared, "I can't make sense of it!"
Out of the blankets, right by his side, he was afforded a full view of the extent of her scars. An inhale allowed him to keep his emotions in check, measured and intentional. A slight ball of rage spiked within him for a moment, a protectiveness which was wholly unexpected and borne solely from the careful solace they had formed while wasting away the afternoon in one another's company. A desire to know who or what had caused it. Why. To see her tended to, and whoever - if there was a who - it was apprehended.
A moment of white hot anger... Which he forced to subside. He might not yet have been a Jedi, but in that moment he certainly showed some makings of one; that was the Dune constitution, though, their levelheadedness, their general placidity, and ability to put the needs of others ahead of themselves. Engrained within the children from a young age was a sense of discipline and service to others. Oskar Dune took his position seriously, he cared deeply for those in his jurisdiction. And Eliphas had watched and mirrored from afar.
The remnants of that rage scattered like butterflies on a summer's breeze. Her words drew him up above their fluttering wings, and his gaze vacated her. In the aftermath, what emotions remained in check around him were not borne of pity or sympathy for the girl, just a deeper understanding. One might even argue a pride, that she had seen fit to step free from the clutches of her crutches even if only for so short a span of time.
He turned his sights to the room after her answer was uttered, to the paint jobs found here and there; he smiled.
"This is all you then, is it?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper as he carefully eased himself off the sofa - trying not to knock her off balance since they had been in close proximity on squishy cushions - and approached one of the walls which still bore signs of the many layers of paint beneath. "You paint by emotions?" he inquired, his dominant (left) hand brushing against the surface as though hoping to unbury the various colours beneath. Eliphas couldn't claim to know her process, but she had shared her vision of the world with him even if only for a moment, and having seen it he couldn't imagine it being any other way.
 
Last edited:

Iris_Sig.png

Anger was a different emotion for her to see in the colors. Usually it came out as a dimming of the other colors around someone. Rage and hate went hand in hand with anger, sapping colors to greys. It always unsettled Iris to see it, especially after watching what a Sith Lord could do to drain the colors from others and drive them to suicide. It was rare to see an anger that wasn't born from the Dark. The bright reds and purples that came from Lief Lief immediately pulled her attention. Her blue purple eyes just stared at him.

Pizza wouldn't bring that kind of reaction. What was it?

Before she could think more about it, or even ask what happened, it was gone. Her eyes lingered on him none the less, just for a moment longer before her gaze ended up following his hand.

"Yeah. I painted a lot more than this. Usually end up cleaning the walls. Redoing it." She smiled softly, nodding. "Emotion, intent. The flow of the Force and such. I see a lot, I guess."
 
He felt her eyes upon him, lingering longer than they previously had, but she said little on his outburst. Eliphas was not sure if that was a good or bad thing, but thankfully they were able to continue on regardless.
The choice of words she used brought a thoughtfulness over him, and once he was done inspecting the one wall he turned back to face her. For a moment he considered what to make of it. Did he try to navigate it? He was intrigued in general, and clearly this had been a passion of hers at some point. Painted. Past tense...
"Yeah, I can tell," he responded, only now seemingly noticing all of the other signs of it; the splashes on the sofa, the walls outside of the kitchen, though it may not have been fresh paint it still spoke to a unique side of the girl. "I used to paint, back home before I joined the crew of The Atale." A brief wash of grief at the mention of the ship and her crew. Eliphas inhaled a slow breath, and upon exhaling he pushed it from his mind.
This wouldn't be another diner moment.
"Portraits, mostly. I wasn't very good, but my sister liked to watch so I did it all the more for her." When they were little, much littler, she'd had him paint her toys. As they grew she continued to direct his art with gentle suggestions and critique. She'd never really wanted to give it a try for herself, though; maybe he'd write to her, suggest that she do just that. Take over the studio space in the back of his bedroom...
 

Iris_Sig.png

Grief.

It was a color Iris had gotten used to seeing from herself. Yet seeing it from someone else was just.. Brighter. She watched Lief Lief for a moment longer. Should she bring it up? For the first time in her life she actually debated just blurting out a random statement about the colors she saw. And held it. No. It wouldn't be right to drag up whatever he was still dealing with when he didn't do the same to her.

Instead, she smiled. Nodded. Painting was.. She got up from the couch without a word, slipping into her room and out of sight for several minutes. The sounds of clutter being tossed around were easily heard. Piles of clothing being dug through and such. The living space was clean as can be. Her personal room? Nope. She'd come back once she found what she was searching for, though. A sketchbook, one of many she owned. The most recent to her collection.

With the same smile she'd plop back down on the couch beside him, holding the book out. "I sketch, too. .. I really do like art." The latter half was spoken in a revaluation sort of way. As if she never thought until now about just how much she liked art. Inside the book was sketches. Black and white images that seemed fairly distant from what the paint coated couch suggested about how she preferred to express her artistic side. Almost perfect detail in every one. Still life images, sketches of people. Her friends, strangers she saw in her travels. Animals she'd met. A seemingly random coffee cup of doom.

"You should keep painting, if you liked it."
 
He heard her motions behind him, as she retreated from the room, and for a second was left to wonder if he'd said something wrong. Sounds emanated from the room she'd entered, a general clattering din that spoke to the unearthing of something amidst a chaotic mess. In the absence of her gaze, he allowed some of the grief he felt on her behalf momentarily rise up; she was trying so hard to maintain a sense of normalcy and composure on the surface, he wondered how many truly understood what lay beneath. Like a duck so frantically treading water in order to remain afloat.
Back to the sofa he wandered, composing himself once he heard her approach. She sat beside him, closer than before, and began to turn the pages to a sketchbook. A satisfied smile washed over him as he observed the drawings on the page, the grace and precision behind her work was admirable indeed. There was more to it than that, though. She had come to a realization, he could hear it in her voice; this was who she was. This was what she liked to do.
"Wow," Eliphas said after a moment of observing, "You did all of this? It's really, really, good. Then she said something that made him pause. Made him think.
"I... I don't know," he said, in response to her suggestion that he paint again if it was something he enjoyed doing. It was, but at the same time... "It's been a long time," he exhaled, at the same time all too aware of the fact that it really hadn't been that long at all. It just felt that way with all that he'd experienced as of late. The Eliphas before The Atale and its final voyage was not the same Eliphas as the one in the room with her now. Too much had changed. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."
 

Iris_Sig.png

She smiled brighter than before, practically grinning at this point. It was nice to get a compliment on her art. .. No, she often got compliments. Maybe it was.. Maybe because she was actually paying more attention to people for once in her life. What they said, how they acted. Her eyes stayed on Lief Lief for a moment longer. Then, again, she stood up. Once again wandering back to her room.

This time not as long, though.

Iris would come out with an easel, paint supplies, all the usual things she had. A couple canvases. She'd set it up, humming softly. She was in a world of her own, mixing paints, setting up a palette for him to use if he wanted (she never bothered with it). The TV was forgotten, hell she set the easel in front of it. Once it was done, she'd turn, lifting a brush and holding it out to him.

"C'mon, paint."
 
Progress.
So bright and brilliant that it made him want to sing from the rooftops. At the very least it made him soar. She hurried from the room and returned this time with a series of art supplies, so many bits and pieces that he stepped forward and carried some of the load as she brought it into the center of the living space. Watched as she set up easel and mixed paint, as a pallet was set up; and then a brush was offered his way.
An offer to paint.
Nay, her next words were more of a gentle command.
He looked from her, to the canvas, then back again. His smile soon mirrored her own, and he took the offered brush.
"What about you?" he inquired, as he pondered over the selection of paints and set some of the classics to the pallet she'd procured, those most often found at the hands of professional painters. Phthalo blue, Alizarin crimson, sap green, yellow ochre... A veritable rainbow of possibilities, deep colours which could be brightened up, or muddied down, or mixed, or... Or...
Eliphas' first instinct was to reach for the canvas primer, provided such existed, a liquid white which could coat the surface and allow the other paints to mix freely upon it. It would also aid in keeping everything nice and wet.
"Are you going to paint, too?"
He didn't look at her, didn't apply any pressure, as he painted the already white canvas white, and then mixed his first colour with a pallet knife.
 

Iris_Sig.png

Her paint? It'd been.. A while since she last painted. But she did set up her own easel to paint on. She hummed a bit, her eyes back on her canvas. She didn't bother with a primer, just.. Stared. Then lifted her brush. The colors around her. She could paint those, right? Yeah. Like before. She bent over, reaching down to dip her brush into a bucket of paint to start the swirls she loved to draw.

Only for the brush to fall from her grasp.

All at once she remembered. The heavy scarring, the weakness of her right side. She just stared blankly at her hand. ".. Nothing." Yeah. No. No painting. Her hand retreated as she cupped it to her chest, closing her eyes. Not yet.

Lief Lief
 
Through whatever marks he'd begun to make upon the canvas, Eliphas felt a sense of ease returning to him. Time may have passed, but that didn't mean he didn't still have some instinct inherent within him.
All of that fled at the sound of a clattering brush. At her singular word.
He turned to face her, his own brush so lightly awash with paint that it posed no threat of dripping, and watched as she clutched her hand to her chest. She seemed defeated. He felt pretty rotten, for not having truly considered where this might lead. She'd come so far, he didn't want to be the reason she retreated once more.
Brush settled against the pallet, and then he crossed the space between them. Slowly, one hand reached out to her. He touched her good shoulder, and tried to tempt her into opening her eyes.
"It's okay," he breathed, sincerity in his tone. His brain whirred a thousand miles a minute as he tried to think of some other way that she could forge on past it. Her hand may not have wanted to respond, but did that mean an end to her creativity?
"You know... I've seen people paint with other methods," he tilted his head to one side, trying to gauge her attention. If she seemed to pull back, if she tried to shoot him down, or ask for space, or time, or anything, he wouldn't continue with that train of thought. But if there was any part of her that maybe still wanted to give it a try, if he saw a flash of curiosity within her, he carried on.
"Have you tried pouring medium? Or heck, getting wild and throwing paint at a canvas to see what sticks? Messy, sure, but it doesn't require precision. You could, uh, use your other hand, or something else." Provided she hadn't already shot him down, he'd glance around the room. Eyes would fall on an almost empty bucket of paint. "Could put some holes in the bottom of that can, when it's done holding paint. String it up somewhere," Eyes lifted, glancing for anything that might act as a hook without the need for drilling holes, "Canvas beneath it, add some paint, push it into action, and see where it leads..."
It wasn't perfect. None of it was perfect. But it was something, right? It was a new way to be expressive, a way which worked with her, not against her...
All of that, only if she would see fit to hear him out.
Otherwise... He'd be quiet in his contemplations. Gentle in his approach.
 

Iris_Sig.png

Iris didn't move. Didn't flinch as Lief Lief touched her shoulder, didn't open her eyes. She knew he was there. Even with her eyes closed she could see the colors. There was no escape from that. She expected pity. Sorrow. It's how she felt. Pitiful. Yet instead, soft reassurances. That opened her eyes.

Surprise, not so much curiosity, as she listened to him. The doctors, the others, it was always 'you can do it, eventually. Keep trying.' But instead of that pity filled mantra, he just kept spouting different ideas. Eventually she just laughed. She couldn't help it. Why was she even trying to think how someone would respond? She was terrible at understanding people!

Rather than reply she crouched down, dipping her hand carelessly into the paint to pull out the brush. Switch it to her left hand. The missing pinky had made it hard to balance the brush how she wanted, but she had strength in the rest of her hand still.

"Try another way. .. Okay."
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom