open post.

[imahologram]

for whatever miscellaneous bullshit your little heart can come up with.

Comments

[t65]

[Luke has never hired a prostitute before.]

[He's never expected to hire one, either. He doesn't, actually, want to. But the remnants of the Empire are creeping in close, hunting people down, and it's the only way Luke can think of to talk to the woman he wants to speak with. So Luke endures the madame, asking for the woman he needs to be see, paying for a room, being checked for bugs (the Empire is everywhere on this planet), and meeting this Methony.]

[He holds his hand out for a shake, and he thinks it's a miracle he's only blushing faintly.] Hello. I'm Owen Whitesun.

[methony]

[Methony can always tell new ones--but this one's more obvious than most. With those wide blue eyes, he'd look utterly virginal anyway, but the blush creeping over his cheeks isn't doing him any favours. The only thing left to figure out is whether friends put him up to this or he's here of his own volition.

Pulling her silk robe up her shoulders a little, she rises from the mess of pillows and sheets that serves as her bed. She's in her usual state of dishabille, hair tumbling down around a negligee that doesn't show stains, but there's no reason to rub it in his face.]

Methony Feucoronne. [She takes his hand in hers, squeezes it lightly rather than shaking it, and gives him a knowing little smile.] I haven't seen you around here before, have I, darling?

[solochild]

01 02 03

[imahologram]

[This is among the worst-planned holidays the Solo family has ever managed to have. What was supposed to be two weeks together on the Gold Beaches of Corellia has turned into two weeks for Ben on the Gold Beaches: one week with Han, and one with Leia. (There was an in-between time when it looked like it would be one week with Han and one week of all of them, but Chewie needs Han on a trip to Kashyyyk that even Leia can't argue with. Helping Chewie's family is a noble enough cause, and it sounds like they're in some genuine danger.)

She's dead on her feet by the time she falls into bed in their rented house, so much so that she doesn't wake until mid-morning the next day. When she does, she's groggily aware of the fact that she never bothered to unpin her hair or undress the night before, and there's a mop of messy dark hair tucked beneath her chin.

Poor Ben, she thinks. He's not going to be happy to hear his father had to leave without saying a proper goodbye, even for Chewbacca's sake. She shifts a little, gently shaking his shoulder.]

Awake in there, Ben?

bullshit au where everything isn't awful

[forcesaken]

[ they've lived in space for-- it must be three months now. hiding from the empire isn't easy but they manage with his and padme's networks. it's time to refuel and restock, and this happened to be the closest planet.

anakin's in his thirties now, but this place -- tatooine has never been a good place for him. he's been back a few times since his mother; none of those visits are voluntary. he's argued and sulked in their ship. he's sure the twins have heard their heated arguments, knows the explanation that padme gives them.

daddy's just not feeling well.

it's same excuse he uses when he sulks back to the living area and has to answer matching "are you mad at us?" looks from his children.

he has recognized that constant worry, anxiety that comes with being a parent; what if he says the wrong thing, leaves the worst impression on their little lives, what if he dies and leaves them stranded. but being here with his daughter is another matter.

leia's gotten so big, so independent. it still hurts him a little when she doesn't want to keep holding his hand, but that is easy to let go. they are inevitably tied in the force that he can always feel where she is, even if that physical comfort isn't there. he can sense her in his peripheral now, looking at one thing or another. ]

Leia. Come along. We need to get the supplies before your brother starts complaining about how it's not fair you got to go.

so excited lmk if you need anything adjusted

[notsoproperprincess]

[Leia just about skips at her father's side. Being out-of-doors is a joyous thing, enough so that she wouldn't mind it if they changed their minds and decided to stake down tents and live here from now on. More than that, though, her legs are nowhere near as long as her father's, and she has to keep her pace up to keep up with him.]

He got to go last time.

[She's still a little sulky about that. Leia likes it best when they can all go outside together, ideally to play games or sight-see, but with the Empire looking for them, two twins is one too many walking around just about anywhere in the galaxy. (Sometimes even one twin is--there have been times when they've both had to stay inside while one or the other of their parents has gone for food and fuel.) On the Rim, there aren't always as many Imperials, or so she's overheard, but Mother says Tatooine is a dangerous place--it would be even if the Empire wasn't interested in them at all.

Truth be told, she feels sorry for Luke, still holed up in the ship. Tatooine isn't the prettiest planet they've visited, but it's fascinating in its emptiness, and after so long in space, she doesn't even mind how hot it is. The sunshine on her head has all the warmth of her father's hand when he smooths back her hair.

She's quiet for a few moments as they begin to walk, uncharacteristically so. Usually, when they visit somewhere new, she's full of questions about everything, but it doesn't take Force ability to know how unhappy Daddy is about being here. He and Mother were just discussing it--if discussing means snapping about it in their room, which it sometimes does--yesterday. Even if she hadn't been eavesdropping, she thinks she would have heard.]

Why don't you like Tatooine? [It's a tentative question, one she half-hopes he won't hear.]

slides in with dc trash

[coulomb]

[this is what happens:

barry's been training to increase his speed, and training hard. if he wants to be able to deal with any threats and protect people -- especially from zoom -- he needs to be able to go faster. a lot faster. at least 30% faster, being precise. he's been pushing himself, working harder and harder on the speed equation of his own devising, and one day when he runs he sort of --

slips.

into a wormhole.

this isn't the first time it's ever happened. he's ripped through spacetime and gone back in time more than once, traveled through the breaches to earth-2 and kara's world, and now...well, it's happened again.

is accidentally a whole dimension going to be a regular thing now? god, he hopes not. time travel is bad enough.]

Uh. This is new.

im the worst friend literally the worst.

[imahologram]

[Leia jumps back, and pain jolts up her elbow when it bangs against the wall. The bunks on this ship have never been big enough to count for much and adding another person doesn't change that fact.

Another person who appeared out of nowhere, without even the hiss of a pneumatic door sliding open to announce his presence. He doesn't even have the good grace to be recognizable; she's never seen him before in her life.]

Yes, it is. [There might not be much room, but there's space enough to draw a blaster, her eyes narrowed. It's pointing at his chest before she realizes she fumbled for it.] Who are you?

[solochild]

Dinner more or less concluded when Ben had walked out to escape the coming storm. Pieces of ruica stuck and bitter between his back molars when he threw his head into his pillows. Screaming into them until his ears rang. Outside he could hear his mother setting scraping dishes with more force than was required and his father pacing like a caged animal.

People argue. Parents despite the adolescent attempts to categorize them otherwise as to deify them were people. Therefore, parents argued because it was just the way of things. The fallacy of association was a bit above Ben. Right now, really ever, Ben was not thinking about other people or their parents. Right now his comprehensible universe was his bedroom with a hallway with the dining room adjacent to that. The walls are not thin but neither are they soundproof. Even if he tried he could be no less aware of the sounds permeating from the other room than he could he own quickening heartbeat. Only the raised voices carried through the walls, but there wasn’t exactly much lull between the tempered words and the louder ones.

What started this had nothing to do with Ben, not at first. Something about the senate turned criticism for this policy turned sharp-voiced assertion of its legitimacy until Ben interjected with an ill-timed complaint. It was by then getting too loud for him. It was too loud – why didn’t they understand that? The louder they got the louder Ben got. Leia reprimanded, Ben retaliated, and Han fought in his own corner. Ben absconded in the crossfire.

Already he could hear name weaving into the muffled conversation verging into shouting match from down the hall. Of course this would all come back to him. He was their child their commonality their singularity their life sentence. Ben couldn’t parse the specifics but even at nine years old he was sure any argument with him just as a subtopic couldn’t be anything good. Convinced his peculiarities only frightened or irritated his parents with that voice that wasn’t a voice and more of a feeling always there with torturous conviction his fears were founded. A fear as primal as being cut off from the herd. You are different. They know this. They resent this and all their problems center back on you.

On the sill he watched AT-AT, indifferent to it all, sleeping peaceful. Ben tries to concentrate on the rise and fall of that furry, rosy belly. Outside he can’t help hear his mother sigh. Outside he hears something crash followed by a curse. He can’t see through walls, he doesn’t know his father accidentally knocked over a chair when he missteps. He just imagines something done in anger and again that not a voice but a feeling supports it. AT-AT stubby ears flick towards the noise but she doesn’t startle.

But Ben does.

A water glass goes sailing across the room from his nightstand against the door. Not with the Force but with rudimentary, nine year old momentum breaking something of his own rather than hear the chaos outside. Auxiliary fire in a ground war that hadn’t called for backup. All for something he doesn’t have the expressiveness or words to just make it all stop.

He doesn’t regret breaking the glass until he sees AT-AT scrambling under his bed. Already he drops to all fours by the bed.

“I’m sorry,” He tells the curled up shadow darker the rest of the cluttered underside of his bed before it hisses at him, “I’m sorry.”

His pleas fall on deaf ears. Ben becomes frustrated and with tears already welling at the corners of his vision he throws himself against the wall. Knees tucked his chin, curled into the corner of his room. The side of a clenched fist beating against the wall a few times before that too does nothing to sate the maelstrom of going on inside and around him.

Eventually – everything goes quiet again.

[imahologram]

Admittedly, Han and Leia argue more than some parents. The shortcomings of the New Republic have been an especially difficult subject lately, not least because Han's critiques aren't nearly as far off-base as Leia would like. It feels like a failure she can't accept to give up on her colleagues, and it makes for an explosive argument when the laws they're writing have the potential to affect Han. His interest in politics is always stronger when he has something to lose.

And then it becomes an argument over Ben, one that's accompanied by Ben's screams, muffled only somewhat by his pillow and his bedroom walls. Even if he could drown the sound out entirely--and judging by the way Han winces, that's definitely not the case--Leia would feel it, the frustration reverberating through the Force.

They don't manage to make up before Han stalks out to work on the Falcon, but that's nothing new. They need their space to cool down. Later tonight, in bed, they can find the right words to patch things up--or they'll skip words in favour of finding forgiveness in each other's touch.

It always ends up all right. It just takes some time.

That doesn't help Ben, though, and after Leia's taken several deep breaths, she knocks at their son's door. Opening it a crack, she slips inside. "Ben? Are you awake?"

[imahologram]

There was a brief time when Leia and Han could talk relatively easily about anything and nothing--mostly nothing, admittedly. It was a nice change from the prickly smuggler who showed up on the Death Star.

But in the last few months, Leia's grown more cautious about their conversations, and only in the last few weeks has she noticed it consciously. There are moments when he looks at her--usually when it looks like she's looking somewhere else--that she wonders just what he's looking to get out of talking to her. And sometimes he's even more argumentative than before, pushing her like he wants to get some unknown truth out of her.

She'd blame it on an overactive imagination...except that her stomach does a little flip when she comes across him unexpectedly. The only thing for that is to ignore it, but sometimes she's too tired to blind herself to how handsome Han Solo is, and she can't help but wonder what he really thinks of her.

It's a little tentatively that she sits down beside him with a cup of lukewarm caf. Ten hours of writing and encrypting messages, intercepting Imperial signals, and meetings--there are always meetings, even when nothing's happening--have left her tired and a little more willing to let her guard down. The trick is to come up with a conversation topic that can't get dragged around to her own feelings on...well, anything.

"How'd you get into smuggling, anyway?" she asks, after a sip of caf. It's an awful brew, but it's the only brew. You get used to it, if you aren't Luke Skywalker.

[straightouttacarbonite]

There are always meetings, and the fact that very few of them involve him doesn't make it much easier to deal with them. When it comes down to it he's a man of action; the planning he can handle, the waiting makes him restless. And here he is. He could, he tells himself nearly every day, just go, but he knows he won't. It doesn't even feel sporting anymore to hint at it to get a rise out of Leia, which means there's an odd, uneasy new avenue to things between them, the unspoken likelihood that he'll still be here tomorrow, no matter what he says. Half the time he spends asking himself what the hell's wrong with him. The rest of it-- at least, that's what it feels like--he spends watching her. Oh, right.

The way she sits down, it feels like it's her turn to look for something. Which is a spot of interest in an otherwise boring spot of waiting, and (much as he'll complain on principle) he likes her company.

"Lookin' for a change?" He arches a brow, shrugs, settles into his seat. It's a minute change, the way he shifts, turning just the slightest bit toward her.

"I dunno, it seemed like good money. Why?"

[imahologram]

It's not common that Leia and her father are on the same planet at the same time--but it's not as rare as it was during the war, either. When it turns out that they'll both be on Corellia for a weekend, she makes sure to leave an afternoon free.

There's more than just a nice day at stake here, admittedly. She has news she'd rather pass along in person. And much as she wishes Mother and Luke could be there for it, too, she's looking forward to telling her father more than anyone. Something tells her he's going to be pleased.

They meet in the Leisure Garden in Coronet City, and Leia throws her arms around him as soon as he's close. "It's so good to see you."

[forcesaken]

Anakin's older now, can't waste time on those wishful thinking. His hair less radiation bleached and more grey with age, The lines on his face is a bit deeper and sometimes his arm hurts more than he's willing to admit. But when he sees her, he immediately sweeps her off her feet.

She has her mother's smile and it makes him with the whole family was here -- meet for a quick week away from the New Republic, the Jedi Order, everything that takes them away from what's really important. Family.

"Hey there, princess." He gives her cheek a quick smack and lets her go. "You're looking well."

Girl, you know what I want :)

[ex_forcechoke292]

[Anakin Skywalker is a terrible liar.

This is a fact almost universally known, from his superiors, to his best friend, to his students, his wife, and assuredly even friends. The problem, the one he doesn't realize, is that it doesn't even have to be the tell-tale signs of a man who wears his emotions on his sleeve (which he likes to think he suppresses more than he does), but it could even be the situation he finds himself in that says more than he could even begin to deny.

Ending up on Tatooine without a seeming reason is a tell-tale sign that something is very, very amiss.

It isn't that he doesn't send holos back occasionally, now that he can disobey the Council and isn't beholden to them holding information from him or for him in terms of personal messaging (and even if they had, he has friends in places, a resource he'd lacked when nine and lonely). But even after his mother's recovery, the war has made downtime something of a distant luxury, with any thought for much other than home more distant still.

She was alive, that's what mattered.

When he gives the arrival message, it's rushed. It doesn't say much, and it certainly doesn't give a reason. The arrival in itself is telling. (Moreso than he realizes.)

Upon arrival, it's even worse. He has no way to hide behind the circumstance, claim ignorance of how strangely he's acting through still being disconnected. He's here. And it's already too much. The sand would be bad enough: there is nothing in the entire galaxy that will ever make him glad to tolerate it. The suns are too bright, the warmth is already grating.

But this isn't about him. This is about her, for her, for Mom. His irritation pales in comparison.

He approaches from his ship--his ship, the garish yellow starfighter still somehow looking far more at home here than the too-bright, glaring chrome that Padmé's ship once had--in what he thinks is a casual manner, but Anakin has never been able to quite school that tendency to fidget, to keep his glance averted anywhere but where it should be focusing, all the signs of nervousness nurtured by the necessity of once-terrible circumstance.

And he is incredibly nervous. That's telling too.]

[shmi]

[Shmi is well enough, by now, that she can meet her son straight-backed and without pain. For far too long after the ordeal in the desert--she prefers not to think of it in more detail than that--she'd felt she was more of a burden than a help to Cliegg and Owen. After Anakin brought her home, after she was recovered enough that could return to much more important work, there was still the long, arduous process of gaining back strength and endurance. It took time and patience, but eventually, she was able to return to all the chores she'd once taken on with ease.

And now, there is no greater reward than being able to greet her son as easily as when he first left Tatooine. She might be older now, the lines around her eyes deepening, but she hasn't changed nearly so much as he.]

Anakin. [There he is, her little boy. Not so little anymore, but still hers. Always hers.] Look at you--how you've grown!

[She stretches up to cup his face between her palms, holding him still so she can have a good look at him. Something is bothering him, that much is certain, but she can't begin to guess what. He will tell me, she decides. He has come here to tell me something. And if they are lucky, she will be able to help.

Shmi kisses his cheek before enfolding him in an embrace. Such a man he has become--such a man the Jedi have made of him.]

I've missed you. We all have.

[imahologram]

She and Han haven't taken the most united of fronts in telling her family about the baby, but Leia doesn't really mind. Dad wouldn't have wanted to share those first, joyous moments with his son-in-law, however superficial his "dislike" for Han is. And Han has work on Corellia right now, anyway--they're here to gather intel, not to soak up the sun on the beaches.

Leia ends up sending her mother a message while Han is still out, mindful of the fact that Dad probably can't keep this secret that long, judging by his reaction to hearing it in the first place.

"Mother?" she asks, when she's got a connection. "Do you have a minute?"

[diplomacme]

Padmé is reading through reports as usual. Some of it goes to Anakin and, occasionally, Ahsoka. But the thorny bits of legislation and reestablishment of diplomatic relations falls to her.

She's in the middle of an exciting report on the muja fruit trade on Xillium XI when she receives Leia's transmission. Her tired, bored expression fades into a smile.

"Of course. I always have time for you."

[generalorgana]

They're sipping caf (coffee in this galaxy, but old habits die hard) over PADDs at breakfast, and Leia, for one, is doing less sipping and more braiding. The regulations for Starfleet are more specific than those of the old Rebel Alliance or the Resistance, though her daily routine hasn't changed much. Leia's stringent enough with her own appearance that it doesn't matter.

"We're going to have to tell the boys." About them? About this--whatever this is. The fact that they're having breakfast together without needing to meet up for breakfast outside Beverly's quarters. A glance over Beverly's way, gauging her reaction.

[dancingmd]

Absorbed as Beverly is in her morning reports, it takes a moment for Leia's comment to register and she looks up with a tiny, confused frown. Tell the boys? Tell the boys wha- oh. Right. "All right. If... if you think you're ready for that." She gives Leia a rueful smile. "Though I rather suspect Wesley at least already knows. He usually figures these things out long before I do."

[blightfighter]

here. we. go.

[jennetwren]

Jennet Cousland has missed civilization. For all she might be a Grey Warden, she was a lady first; while she's not pleased by the dress she was shoved into when they came to Denerim to prepare for the Landsmeet, she's taken full advantage of the baths and the steady supply of food.

"Alistair!" she calls, sidling into the bedchamber they've commandeered (and for the first time, it's a good thing her father's dead, because he'd kill her for being so indiscreet) with a tray clasped between her hands. It's overflowing with bread, cheese, ale, and best of all, fruit. Two apples roll around next to a plate along with a small, mostly-ripe orange that must have been imported from Antiva. Even if it tastes wretched, Jennet will just sit there an smell it. "Alistair, look what I've got!"

All of her is ecstatic at that moment, enough so that when she kicks the door shut with one foot, the resulting bang sounds cheerful to her, and so does the muffled, sleepy complaint shouted from the next room. "Come on, get up, it's breakfast."

[imahologram]

[Leia comes into the facility, blasters blazing, and leaves plenty of stunned and dead stormtroopers in her wake. She and her compatriots split up in search of their targets.

They're here for a few political prisoners, all people the Rebel Alliance could desperately use. The first cell Leia breaks into, though, doesn't hold the middle-aged Twi'lek she's looking for. It's a human child, with hair shorn close and an awkwardly fitting medbay gown, and Leia's stopped in her tracks at the sight of her.

This is a prison for adults the Empire deemed dangerous to their regime. What is a child doing here?]

Who are you?

[waffler]

[When someone barges into her small cell, she hurries to press herself into the corner and make herself seem as invisible as possible. It's not possible at all, of course, so she stares over at the woman with wide eyes before slowly raising her hand. Not sure if this person means her harm or not, she's frightened by her presence. ]

Eleven.

[Cautiously, she points to the 011 tattoo on her arm. This is dangerous, someone in here who doesn't know who she is. She thought Papa only let in people who knew. The door's open behind her, though. Her eyes look from the woman to the door, incredibly focused on the fact that freedom is within sight.

So she gives a flippant wave of her hand in an attempt to gently push the woman out of her way. If she's successful, Eleven won't hesitate in running out of the room]

my serious as heck prompt

[consolo]

heck

my serious as heck starter

[imahologram]

[Things have been quiet on Chandrila lately. Ben's as much a handful as any two-year-old, and the same can be said of the Republic--the parallels are especially striking when they're about the same age--but those things are always the case. When she isn't busy with one or the other, she finds herself restless and almost bored with the situation as it stands.

This is partially (mostly) her fault.

The long and short of it is that she might have thrown Han out of the house. The only reason it's a maybe instead of a definite is because Han was already halfway to the Falcon; she's pretty sure, in retrospect, she just gave him a good reason to break atmosphere. It was for the best that they had a few weeks apart, but every hour that passes today, she's felt more regret than anything that Han isn't at home where he belongs.

So she sends him a message--text, not holo, in hopes that it won't be too much of a confrontation too soon.]

Come home.

[She ends it with a full stop, but it's a question at heart, one masking others. Can we work this out? for instance, and Have you missed me the way I've missed you?]

[notsoproperprincess]

[The Outer Rim is good for plenty of things--hiding from the Empire, especially--but clothing isn't on the list. Not if the shops on Mirial are any indication, anyway. Mirialans weren't far from humans as far as biology goes, but their taste in fashion doesn't suit Leia at all.

More importantly, she knows her father is back at the ship, going through Jedi exercises, and she'd give anything to be there, too. Shopping for clothing is the worst.]

Maybe we could get new clothes next planet.

[diplomacme]

[ Padme knows Leia isn't thrilled about shopping. It doesn't help that Mirial isn't lively like Coruscant (used to be). The locals take only a passing interest in tourists and the goods available are ordinary-- good enough for those living here and travelers passing through but nothing particularly eye-catching.

The clothes, well... Padme isn't thrilled about them either but this is the first planet inhabited by humaniods that they've encountered in awhile. And Leia is growing faster than Luke, whose clothes were still a bit baggy in some places.

Padme turns her head to look at Leia, a knowing smile playing on her lips. ]

We might not find another planet that will have clothes for humanoids for awhile.

[organasolo]

[Marrying is exhausting. The actual vows are easy enough--once Leia made up her mind, long before the actual ceremony, they were as good as said--but getting to them is a long and arduous affair, not least because Luke's nowhere in sight. When he arrives, she feels him, and everything is right. The rest of the service flies by, and soon she and Han are kissing over the altar, their lives joined in the sight of a thousand onlookers.

The only problem is that a thousand onlookers now want to offer their congratulations, and Leia's enormous white dress makes her easy to spot as she moves through the crowd. It's not until they're in the reception hall that Leia has a chance to make her way over to Luke and throw her arms around him, her skirt belling out behind her slightly as the layers of crinoline press back.]

[imahologram]

Life never quite settles down in the Organa-Solo household. Meetings and senate sessions for Leia, runs and races for Han, school and playtime for Ben--who's growing into an exuberant, sharp-witted boy under that mop of messy hair. Even on occasions when they manage to sit down together for dinner in their house on Chandrila, things are busy. There's always something worth talking about over their plates.

Tonight, Ben chatters about the ever-shifting social hierarchy of five-year-olds in primary school, and Leia picks at her spiceloaf, looking for the words she'll need to talk to Han later that night. Han, for his part, makes up for her quiet mood with plenty of questions for their son. Still, she feels his gaze on her at least once, and she suspects he knows something's going on.

Thanks to a last-minute holo about water tariffs, she doesn't have a chance to bring it up with him until they're starting to drift towards bed. It's probably better this way--little chance that Ben will interrupt or overhear--but the wait still leaves her on edge. "Han," she finally says, from where she's combing out her hair, "I need to talk to you about something."

[straightouttacarbonite]

Settling into life here never ceases to be strange, though as time goes on it starts to feel a little more familiar. There are still things, here and there, which never mesh. Historical events, little turns of phrase. He gets better at not saying the wrong thing-- smiling and nodding at things he recognizes he should remember, not mentioning things that haven't.

Ben is his son, in every way that matters, and their family-- well, it's their family, even if he came in a little late to it. He dotes on the kid, when he's around-- he wishes he could be around more-- and they make it work. Simple as that, except it's the most confusing thing he's ever dealt with. Of course he notices she's got something on her mind-- he was good at reading Leia at home, she's not so different here-- but he doesn't want to be the one to bring it up, least of all with their son in the room.

And then it slips his mind, though once she says something about it, his attention is focused solely on her. He nods, with a bit of trepidation.

"What's going on?"

4 sonia

[littlemissfutility]

They're back to playing Never Have I Ever, back to the waning hours of the night and their mostly drained cup and bottle. The point of the game has started to transcend drinking. There are things to be learned about each other, and Beth, at least intends to find out as many of them as she can. Sonia's life is one of such contrasts--a princess trapped in the wilderness, a bright spirit surrounded by dour ones--that she can't help but find it fascinating.

"I've never..." Beth searches for something that might be interesting. After a moment, her mouth twisting up into something sheepish, almost apologetic, she says, "I've never kissed a girl."

Maybe you have, says that look. You've done so much I haven't, even out here.

here 4 this

[vorbratta]

Sonia's mouth tilts up in an ironic little smile. Even at this point in the game, she's still comfortably drunk, but she can read that look on Beth's face. She laughs a little, picking up her cup, even though they've long stopped playing by the rules of the game.

"Only twice," Sonia hedges, waving one hand. "Once on Beta Colony, a little before I left. Just an experimental little thing with one of my schoolmates. All giggling and blushing. The second was here. A few years later."