A ghost of her formal self.... (Adam, invite)
Feb 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
Post by Admin on Feb 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
Old 03-04-2012, 10:55 PM
Alizabeth Moroveston
She let the bag fall to the floor as she took the darkest, furthest seat at the bar. She needed a bath, clean clothes, and a drink... apparently not in that order. Ordering the strongest thing she knew she could manage, she paid the bartender with her last credits and took a sip. Coughing slightly she laughed as the tender smirked and walked off.
She was home. That was all that mattered. She hadn't even gone to see if she still had quarters in the Republic intern barracks. She hadn't even asked about Evan, or Adam or anyone else who had been left thinking she was still dead. How do you explain that your death was exaggerated, or just a blatant mistake? “A mistake... that's it. My death was a mistake.” She took another sip and wished without hope that the single shot would get her drunk enough to forget. Forget what had happened, forget who was probably hurt by it, forget it all... but she couldn't. She wouldn't. She was a Republic Intern and would do her duty, report her findings and accept the next assignment...
… tomorrow.
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:02 AM
Adam Faulkner
I just got promoted... why not have a few drinks to celebrate. It was that thought that prompted the Bakuran to head to The Mirror's Edge Cantina. He could have invited people to join him, but he preferred his solitude. And it wasn't like he planned on getting getting drunk. He didn't like the way his brain seemed to slow down whenever he had too much alcohol. He couldn't afford to be off his game even momentarily, not now... not with war looming just over the horizon. He could be summoned anytime now... by the NRIS or the Devil Dogs. No he wouldn't get drunk, but he could have a shot or two, there was no harm in that.
"Whyren's Reserve..."
He took out a cigarette from one of his pockets and lit it as he waited for the bartender to pour his drink. He took a long drag as he turned his back to the tender and leaned back against the bar. He looked around the room, as was his custom since as long as he could remember. That's when he saw her, a woman who looked like she should be in a medcenter instead of a cantina. The spectre would have thought he was drunk, except for the fact the he hadn't even gotten his drink yet... let alone touched it. It couldn't be... She's dead. Died on Drunkenwell.
His eyes were playing tricks on him. That's all it was... had to be. The woman was sitting at a darker part of the bar that was farther away. It was trick of the light. But no matter how hard he tried to see it differently, nothing changed... It was still her, and thoughts of celebrating were the furthest thing from his mind now.
"Alizabeth?"
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:07 AM
Liz
Had she not seen him enter, as she had seen every patron enter since she sat down, she would not have heard him utter her name as he stared in shock. His face paled and she didn't have to be a Jedi or Sith to know he was suddenly very uncomfortable. She did the only thing she could think of.
She looked at him and smiled softly. “Hello, Adam...” She took another sip of her drink and winced at the burn in her throat. Nothing but water had dulled her pallet. It would take a while to get used to anything else.
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:58 AM
Adam
"Hello, Adam? That's it?" He didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure he knew how to respond to anything at the moment. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Alizabeth was here, a little worse for wear, but alive and breathing. He should was overjoyed that she had survived, but his heart sank at the thought of what she had gone through because he had abandoned her. Adam shook his head as he turned back to the bar. "I need a drink," he gestured toward an empty spot next to him, "Care to join me?"
Without waiting for her to answer, Adam finally reached for his shot and then knocked it back in one gulp. He set the empty glass on the bar and motioned for it to be filled up again. He downed that one as well, "Just leave the bottle."
And I wasn't going to get drunk...
***
Old 03-05-2012, 02:17 AM
Liz
Adam getting drunk? That wasn't like him. Perhaps he felt he was seeing a ghost. Moving her bag with her foot, it was small enough to slide with little effort, she sat down beside him, poured him a refill from the bottle the tender set down, then handed the bottle back. “It won't be needed.” She smiled and looked at him as she set her half finished drink down.
“I don't know what to say, Adam. What am I supposed to say?” Her brow furrowed in anger. Anger at what had happened and anger at what it had caused to happen to those around her. She had never imagined her absence, and reappearance would affect him this way. “Am I supposed to say, 'Hi, Adam... great to see you again. How have you been? Sorry I was away. Unavoidable delay I fear.'” She giggled but it sounded strained and almost bordered on hysteria. She down the last of her drink and coughed as it burned. Sliding the glass away, she waved off a refill offer from the bar tender. “No thanks.”
Sitting down more comfortably, she looked at the counter top and her voice dropped to a more manageable level. “I am sorry, Adam. It wasn't your fault.” She smiled at him. He had been her protector while on Drunkenwell. She had forced him to go rest. Made him promise to sleep. Swore that the relief guards would be suffice for the short spell that night. She had been wrong. So very, very wrong.
“I was in my chamber, ready for bed, just as I promised you I would be. Then something happened. It was all too fast.” She sighed trying to play it out again in her mind. But the details were still hazy. “I remember hearing weapons in the hall. Then nothing... silence. I kept expecting Mark and Andar* to come through the door and tell me it was nothing. To say all was well. But as the doors opened and I stepped towards them, a canister rolled across the floor. Next thing I knew there were three men in ill fitting Republican uniforms standing over me as I collapsed and lost consciousness. Last thing I heard was someone saying that the ruse had worked. They had gotten me.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I won't tell you everything. No one needs to know but the Senate if they ask. Just know that I finally got away with the help of another political prisoner, a Drunkenwell ambassador. I remember hiding during the day and running at night till we finally figured out where we were and headed back to the compound.”
Keeping her gaze on the counter, she continued her story. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see his face. She knew pain and rage would be there and she doubted she would be able finish if she saw it. “We came back, but everyone was gone. You all had left the planet three days earlier. Three days...” The last two words a half whisper as she chided herself. If they had only moved faster... if only...
“It doesn't matter. Without credentials, without credits, without dataplates... it was almost impossible to prove I wasn't a spy myself after my return. The ambassador knew me not, so there was no way to vouchsafe my identity with him. When I was finally able, I managed to barter a shuttle back. A mining barge. I cooked for the crew. We just landed no more than 2 marks ago.” She shook her head and rested her temples on her hands. “I am so very tired. I don't even know if my rooms are still there. Surely after all this time, after the reports of my betrayal and death... surely I am not even welcome. I will have to make my appearance tomorrow. But tonight I just want to find a room with the last couple credits I had left and shower and sleep. Not even food seems to be high on my priority list this evening.”
For the first time since sitting down, she finally looked at him to see his reaction to her story. As she saw the tightness in him, she whispered, unable to find her voice. “I am so sorry, Adam... I really am.”
((*Mark and Adar are made up names for this story, no reference to any characters of that name if they exist in SWPG))
Alizabeth Moroveston
She let the bag fall to the floor as she took the darkest, furthest seat at the bar. She needed a bath, clean clothes, and a drink... apparently not in that order. Ordering the strongest thing she knew she could manage, she paid the bartender with her last credits and took a sip. Coughing slightly she laughed as the tender smirked and walked off.
She was home. That was all that mattered. She hadn't even gone to see if she still had quarters in the Republic intern barracks. She hadn't even asked about Evan, or Adam or anyone else who had been left thinking she was still dead. How do you explain that your death was exaggerated, or just a blatant mistake? “A mistake... that's it. My death was a mistake.” She took another sip and wished without hope that the single shot would get her drunk enough to forget. Forget what had happened, forget who was probably hurt by it, forget it all... but she couldn't. She wouldn't. She was a Republic Intern and would do her duty, report her findings and accept the next assignment...
… tomorrow.
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:02 AM
Adam Faulkner
I just got promoted... why not have a few drinks to celebrate. It was that thought that prompted the Bakuran to head to The Mirror's Edge Cantina. He could have invited people to join him, but he preferred his solitude. And it wasn't like he planned on getting getting drunk. He didn't like the way his brain seemed to slow down whenever he had too much alcohol. He couldn't afford to be off his game even momentarily, not now... not with war looming just over the horizon. He could be summoned anytime now... by the NRIS or the Devil Dogs. No he wouldn't get drunk, but he could have a shot or two, there was no harm in that.
"Whyren's Reserve..."
He took out a cigarette from one of his pockets and lit it as he waited for the bartender to pour his drink. He took a long drag as he turned his back to the tender and leaned back against the bar. He looked around the room, as was his custom since as long as he could remember. That's when he saw her, a woman who looked like she should be in a medcenter instead of a cantina. The spectre would have thought he was drunk, except for the fact the he hadn't even gotten his drink yet... let alone touched it. It couldn't be... She's dead. Died on Drunkenwell.
His eyes were playing tricks on him. That's all it was... had to be. The woman was sitting at a darker part of the bar that was farther away. It was trick of the light. But no matter how hard he tried to see it differently, nothing changed... It was still her, and thoughts of celebrating were the furthest thing from his mind now.
"Alizabeth?"
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:07 AM
Liz
Had she not seen him enter, as she had seen every patron enter since she sat down, she would not have heard him utter her name as he stared in shock. His face paled and she didn't have to be a Jedi or Sith to know he was suddenly very uncomfortable. She did the only thing she could think of.
She looked at him and smiled softly. “Hello, Adam...” She took another sip of her drink and winced at the burn in her throat. Nothing but water had dulled her pallet. It would take a while to get used to anything else.
***
Old 03-05-2012, 01:58 AM
Adam
"Hello, Adam? That's it?" He didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure he knew how to respond to anything at the moment. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Alizabeth was here, a little worse for wear, but alive and breathing. He should was overjoyed that she had survived, but his heart sank at the thought of what she had gone through because he had abandoned her. Adam shook his head as he turned back to the bar. "I need a drink," he gestured toward an empty spot next to him, "Care to join me?"
Without waiting for her to answer, Adam finally reached for his shot and then knocked it back in one gulp. He set the empty glass on the bar and motioned for it to be filled up again. He downed that one as well, "Just leave the bottle."
And I wasn't going to get drunk...
***
Old 03-05-2012, 02:17 AM
Liz
Adam getting drunk? That wasn't like him. Perhaps he felt he was seeing a ghost. Moving her bag with her foot, it was small enough to slide with little effort, she sat down beside him, poured him a refill from the bottle the tender set down, then handed the bottle back. “It won't be needed.” She smiled and looked at him as she set her half finished drink down.
“I don't know what to say, Adam. What am I supposed to say?” Her brow furrowed in anger. Anger at what had happened and anger at what it had caused to happen to those around her. She had never imagined her absence, and reappearance would affect him this way. “Am I supposed to say, 'Hi, Adam... great to see you again. How have you been? Sorry I was away. Unavoidable delay I fear.'” She giggled but it sounded strained and almost bordered on hysteria. She down the last of her drink and coughed as it burned. Sliding the glass away, she waved off a refill offer from the bar tender. “No thanks.”
Sitting down more comfortably, she looked at the counter top and her voice dropped to a more manageable level. “I am sorry, Adam. It wasn't your fault.” She smiled at him. He had been her protector while on Drunkenwell. She had forced him to go rest. Made him promise to sleep. Swore that the relief guards would be suffice for the short spell that night. She had been wrong. So very, very wrong.
“I was in my chamber, ready for bed, just as I promised you I would be. Then something happened. It was all too fast.” She sighed trying to play it out again in her mind. But the details were still hazy. “I remember hearing weapons in the hall. Then nothing... silence. I kept expecting Mark and Andar* to come through the door and tell me it was nothing. To say all was well. But as the doors opened and I stepped towards them, a canister rolled across the floor. Next thing I knew there were three men in ill fitting Republican uniforms standing over me as I collapsed and lost consciousness. Last thing I heard was someone saying that the ruse had worked. They had gotten me.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I won't tell you everything. No one needs to know but the Senate if they ask. Just know that I finally got away with the help of another political prisoner, a Drunkenwell ambassador. I remember hiding during the day and running at night till we finally figured out where we were and headed back to the compound.”
Keeping her gaze on the counter, she continued her story. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see his face. She knew pain and rage would be there and she doubted she would be able finish if she saw it. “We came back, but everyone was gone. You all had left the planet three days earlier. Three days...” The last two words a half whisper as she chided herself. If they had only moved faster... if only...
“It doesn't matter. Without credentials, without credits, without dataplates... it was almost impossible to prove I wasn't a spy myself after my return. The ambassador knew me not, so there was no way to vouchsafe my identity with him. When I was finally able, I managed to barter a shuttle back. A mining barge. I cooked for the crew. We just landed no more than 2 marks ago.” She shook her head and rested her temples on her hands. “I am so very tired. I don't even know if my rooms are still there. Surely after all this time, after the reports of my betrayal and death... surely I am not even welcome. I will have to make my appearance tomorrow. But tonight I just want to find a room with the last couple credits I had left and shower and sleep. Not even food seems to be high on my priority list this evening.”
For the first time since sitting down, she finally looked at him to see his reaction to her story. As she saw the tightness in him, she whispered, unable to find her voice. “I am so sorry, Adam... I really am.”
((*Mark and Adar are made up names for this story, no reference to any characters of that name if they exist in SWPG))