Retail Therapy

[Marzena Vaas]

Marzena Choi stepped onto the sidewalk; there was the sound of high heels clicking against pavement to herald her arrival in the Garden District. The celebrity was followed by two suited men, her guards for the day. She generally liked to pretend that they weren’t there, but today it was something of a comfort to know that she was not completely alone. The celebrity had dressed in a classic trench coat, a pair of nude heels, and dark glasses. Her dark tresses were styled into long waves, her makeup was pristine and her signature red lipstick completed her look. She smiled and nodded to a few passersby, looking very much like a happy woman, but few knew the torrent of emotions she had experienced during the past few days.

At least she looked pulled together on the outside.

She had come to the Garden District for a bit of shopping, on a good day, it was merely a favorite pastime. However, on a bad day, shopping was a cure-all, at least temporarily. And today, she felt that some retail therapy was definitely in order. Marzena would forget about her troubles for now, there would be plenty of time to dwell on them later. For now, she would simply enjoy the serene sounds of the fountains, taking in the lovely city sights, and spending a few credits. She ducked into the first boutique she spotted, and after about fifteen minutes, she had a few bags dangling from her arm.

Of course, she wasn't going to stop there...

Another shop, another few things purchased – by the end she could have had a completely new wardrobe. Now feeling somewhat satisfied, she started to walk down towards the art galleries. She turned into a small gallery space, her dark eyes taking in some of the artist’s sculpture work. Marzena removed her sunglasses to get a better look, also revealing that her eyes were a bit tired and sad... but she hoped that no one would notice.

[member="Deja Bloom"]

 

[Déja Bloom]

Leighton Gallery, with its glossed-stone floors vaulted ceilings, was the sort of place with a dozen secret rules. There were no signs to indicate what was for sale and what décor. Price tags, naturally, were out of the question. Don’t touch the displays? Well, that would be a given.

The space was dotted sparsely with meandering locals. Prim-postured curators in gray suits acted as sentries posted by the split columns that lined the walls. Deja paused before a piece on a wide pedestal, an exquisite mess and twisted crimson glass, and tried to imagine what it would look like in her office. Maybe by the door? She thought as her head gently inclined.

Maybe not. She appreciated the energy of the sculpture. The strength. The glass was like abstract, frozen fire… and fire was cleansing. But there was violence there too. Blood. Deja reasoned it might be too challenging for the trauma survivors in her care. She tucked her hands in the pocket of her coat and turned.

To her right was another piece. Woodwork shaped to resemble a squat, potted tree. Maybe it is a tree. She stepped in to get a better look. The sculpture’s base was white, coffered clay and the trunk of the tiny tree was like driftwood. At the caps of its spindly branches were puffs moss. Green and purple. So soft.

“Hmmm…” The thoughtful sound hummed behind Deja’s closed lips. She glanced at the young woman beside her, who was also examining, “Does this make you feel anything?” She asked.

[member="Marzena Choi"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

Marzena stood before a sculpture with a white base, bent slightly at the waist to view it from above. Her gaze lingered on the lines that spiraled up the trunk of the tree. At one time, it appeared that this piece of driftwood had been weathered and worn, perhaps washed up on some distant shore. But now, it had been painted with varnish to make it shine, to give it a brand new life. Next, her eyes traveled up the branches, they might have looked harsh and unfriendly, if not for the small, mossy details at the ends.

She blinked slowly, feeling the fatigue behind her eyelids. Her focus began to wane, until she was merely staring at the sculpture, but no longer seeing and taking it in. The brief and uplifting effect of her spending spree was starting to wear thin. Marzena remained still, almost becoming one with the art installation. A soft voice coming from the side interrupted her thoughts, but she did not immediately turn to view the source. There was something about this voice that prompted an answer, and Marzena spoke without even thinking.

“It makes me feel lonely.” She responded. Marzena straightened up instantly, eyelashes fluttering as she blinked her eyes. Now she turned her gaze to the woman standing next to her, taking in her appearance. She was pale, had a lovely mane of light hair, and piercing eyes. A light blush found the celebrity’s face, but she smiled in order to recover.

“Well, I suppose there is something about this sculpture that projects a sense of loneliness.” Her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “But, what do I know? I am certainly not a critic.” Marzena laughed softly, a practiced sort of laughter that she employed when she was not in the mood. The sound was still very pleasant, even if not completely genuine.

[member="Deja Bloom"]

 

[Déja Bloom]

“It makes me feel lonely.”

Honesty. Simple truth. Oh, how Deja loved the click of words aligning with true meaning. For a shining instant, the slender woman at her side had dropped her protective covering and was simply a facet of the moment. Perfectly present.

Her mouth curved into a smile. She felt the lady’s spirit recede. That's natural. Deja thought, her eyes dropping as she listened. Vulnerability could be a beautiful thing… but it could also be fiercely uncomfortable. She waited as the other woman donned her mask again by making a polite excuse for her openness.

“But, what do I know? I am certainly not a critic.”

Deja drew in a long draught of air, “Oh, I don’t know.” She sighed comfortably, “You appear to have an eye for this sort of thing.” Turning her attention back to the little tree, contemplation transformed her face as she studied its natural curves. The artist who had crafted the piece had only done so much. The bulk of the sculpture’s beauty was by reason of epochs sacrificed to time.

“It makes me feel lonely too.”

She removed her hand from her coat pocket, “I’m Deja.” Smiling, she offered her hand, “Pleased to meet you.”


[member="Marzena Choi"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

She smiled in response to the woman’s compliment; Marzena did like to think that she had an eye for art. It had been one of the reasons that she had pursued involvement with the Ministry of Culture, and was a member of the First Order Arts and Culture Commission. Her presence had never been fully accepted at the Ministry, and she feared now that her assistance with their projects would no longer be needed. That was the impression she had gleaned from her most recent conversation with Minister Petyr Calinda. It was another reason to feel a bit downcast.

Marzena’s dark eyes remained on the light-haired woman next to her, noting that the sculpture made her feel lonely too. At least she wasn’t the only one. Her manicured hand extended politely to meet the one offered by Deja, and she gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m Marzena,” She returned the smile, “Very nice to meet you, Deja.”

She took a few steps away from the small tree, her gaze having found something shiny to look at. On the next pedestal was a work of delicately blown glass, clear like crystal, and shimmering under the gallery lights. Marzena glanced up and drew in a breath; perhaps it would be nice to walk the Leighton with some company.

“Do you come here often, or are you just visiting for the day?” Marzena asked in a friendly tone, attempting to keep the conversation going.

[member="Deja Bloom"]

 

[Déja Bloom]

“Marzena…” She repeated quietly, the name nearly lost on an exhaled breath. The other woman’s hand was soft and pure as cream, which was telling of someone who didn’t labor for a living. Her clothes, too, suggested that she was a woman of means.

Her money didn’t necessarily buy her happiness, however, as evidenced by her eyes. Touched by redness, there was fatigue there. She carried herself well despite it all. Deja noted her poise and practiced smile… but it was as if a sadness had impressed itself on the other woman’s spirit. A specter of pain.

It wasn’t anything to be alarmed about, Deja concluded. The other woman was distressed but not in any immediate danger. Unless she was incredibly good at hiding it. Still, Marzena appeared genuine and kind. It troubled her to see the lady’s loveliness diminished.

Marzena strolled to another sculpture and Deja’s calmly followed, “This is my first time here, actually. I’m new to Dosuun.” She answered, drinking in the icy glimmer of the twisted glass, “My office is just a short jaunt north of here.” She made a brief gesture in the air toward where she assumed north was, “I thought I might decorate it with the wares of local artists.”

“What about you?” She asked the other woman, adding warmth to her words.


[member="Marzena Choi"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

The warmth of Deja’s words seemed to brush aside some of the lonely cold that surrounded Marzena, and she felt a small smile forming on her lips. Her dark eyes had followed the woman’s hand as she gestured in the direction of her office.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” She said with a nod of approval, as a patron of the arts, she believed that it was important to support the First Order’s local artists. “There are many fabulous galleries here, or so I’ve heard – I’m just beginning to explore them.”

While the songstress was a well-known and familiar sight on Bespin, her public appearances in Avalonia had been far fewer. However, her relationship with a high ranking member of the First Order had brought her to Dosuun several times before – but no one knew about that. Soon, that would all be changing, for Marzena was now carrying his child. It was not outwardly apparent yet, except for her hands occasionally sliding protectively over her midsection.

Marzena turned slightly, “I’m in the process of moving here, from Cloud City on Bespin. I’m still fairly new to the sights and scenes of Avalonia, too.”

[member="Deja Bloom"]

 

[Déja Bloom]

Just the mention of Bespin and Deja’s head was in the clouds. It was originally a mining colony, she recalled. It had since become home to millions. The people there worked, lived and played on saucer cities suspended in whips of amber clouds. “Oh, what a beautiful place.” She spoke aloud but unconsciously, as if from a dream.

She had been just a little girl when her mother took her along to Cloud City for a holobook tour. Deja recalled the crowds in the spaceport. Scores of people wearing sleek, modern fashions. Diamond whites and misty blues. Smiling faces warmed by the glow of their media devices as tiny technological marvels streamed music into their ears…

Bespin culture was fabulously forward-looking. A young woman like [member="Marzena Choi"] would have fit in seamlessly. A wave of empathy overcame Deja all of a sudden, “I imagine it must have been difficult to say goodbye.” She remarked again.

Blinking she refocused. Deja’s eyes again found the glass sculpture they had been examining. This one didn’t speak to her, she concluded. It was too immaculate, perhaps, as if it had been molded by a machine. Nothing to write home about. She thought with a sigh. Turning again to the porcelain woman at her side, “So what brings you to Avalonia?” She inquired, then hesitated to don a fresh smile, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

 

[Marzena Vaas]

There were many things that she would miss about Cloud City – high end boutiques, fine cuisine, and her luxurious high rise. However, she knew that she would not be saying goodbye forever. Marzena would still have a reason to visit from time to time. “Yes, change is always difficult, isn’t it?” she said, her tone lifting slightly into a soft laugh, this time the sound was almost musical.

Marzena took another moment to look down at the shimmery glass sculpture, and turned to see that Deja did not seem to be impressed. Or perhaps this piece of art simply had not spoken to her.

Her dark eyes met Deja’s gaze as she turned to pose a new topic of conversation. Hmm, now this one was a bit tricky. Marzena’s heels clicked pleasantly against the polished tile floor, she listened to the sound as the two women approached the next pedestal. “I moved to be closer to someone.” She said, unable to keep a smile from tugging at the corners of her painted lips. The songstress’ mood had improved with the mere thought of this person. For now, she would simply leave it at that.

“What about you?” She spun the question back around to Deja. “And... what exactly are we looking at?” She scratched her head.

[member="Deja Bloom"]