open post.

[imahologram]

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

Comments

[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?

[t65]

[Luke wonders if 'Methony Feucoronne' is her real name. It's certainly the name she's known by, when he asked around, trying to find the red-headed woman he'd seen in his vision. But he wonders if she's like the slaves Beru had once told him used to live in Mos Espa, whose names changed with their owners, being herded from place to place.]

[He feels a pang of pity at the thought.]

No, you haven't. I'm on Meduse for... business. [He tilts his head, wondering if that's a lie. It doesn't feel like one, but it doesn't feel like the truth, either. He wonders if she can sense that, what she's already picked up from him, probably subconsciously.] Methony, have you noticed anything strange in town lately?

[She must have noticed the higher amount of Troopers searching the area, but then, he doesn't know how tight a leash the madame keeps them on. He'd never really thought about it at all, until he began searching for a woman who lived in a brothel.]

[Luke wonders if he can free them all, before this is over.]

[methony]

[Well, part of "Methony Feucoronne" is real. It's a pity he can't translate Marathine to Basic; he might appreciate the homelike sound of Methony Firecrown.]

Strange?

[Inwardly, she's on her guard. Any halfwit who looks out a window can see the Stormtroopers gathering in the streets. It's something easily ignored and never talked about, and Methony prefers to keep it that way. Until they're kicking her door in, they're no concern of hers.

Outwardly, she plays innocent, reaching out to drag a fingertip down the dark fabric covering his shoulder as she smiles at him.]

We serve people of all proclivities here, Owen. I'm not here to decide what's strange. [Just to get paid for it.]

[t65]

[Luke's blush just gets worse at the word 'proclivities', and he feels his face heat further from there. He does his best to ignore it, talking through it and keeping his expression kind, but neutral.]

Haven't you wondered what all those Stormtroopers are here for? They're looking for you, Methony.

[He realizes belatedly how that could sound menacing.] Don't worry. I'm here to protect you.

[methony]

[Well, it's a weird game, but she's played weirder. One of Methony's brows quirks up, but she keeps that coy, coquettish smile.]

You're a brave man to risk your life for the sake of a whore. [A step closer, her breasts pressing up against Luke's chest as she reaches for his collar. (There has to be a clasp in there somewhere.) She dips her head enough that her cheek brushes his jaw as she murmurs into his ear.] I must find a way to thank you.

[t65]

[Luke goes still, attempting to back away before he realizes he's already against the wall. He holds his hands up at an awkward angle, trying not to touch her, but to still maintain some barrier between them.] No, no. Methony, I'm serious. The Force is alive within you; haven't you felt it?

[methony]

[Ice spreads through her. There are silly premises for heart-pounding sex, and then there's the Force. No one speaks of it; no one has since they took her son from her and left her life as payment.

Her first thought is My blaster is on the other side of the room. Her next is Felix.]

What's going on?

[She takes a step back, no longer Methony the coy, coquettish flirt. This is the woman who falls asleep alone in the small hours of the morning and applies makeup against the faint lines beginning to dig into her skin when she wakes.

Her eyes are hard.]

Who are you really?

[t65]

[Luke lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He rubs at his eyes and says, with a lack of bravado that may undercut his argument:] Luke Skywalker.

[He looks at her now, and his gaze is level.] I'm sorry for the deception, but it was necessary for your safety. Madame Poluphemie keeps the rooms unbugged, but not the lobby.

[It occurs to him a moment later that she probably knows that.]

[methony]

[She laughs without bothering to make it sound pretty as she sits back down on her bed. The blaster is between the mattress and the wall, if she can just stretch out naturally enough towards it...]

Of course. [Her eyes roll.] Luke Skywalker has come to the far end of the galaxy to talk to a whore in the Lower City.

[He's right, of course, that only an idiot would try to talk about something downstairs, but it's not hard to guess that.]

You can't think I was born yesterday. I'm older than you.

[t65]

[Luke sighs.] I guess they don't have those 'Wanted' holos out here... [He sighs and closes his eyes. There's been a niggling feeling at the back of his mind all night, but he hasn't been able to concentrate on it due to his nerves. With Methony no longer pressed against him, he catches it-]

What's behind the bed? [He sounds more curious than worried.] Something's... hidden there? Did you hide it?

[And then there's the worry-- this room might be bugged after all.]

[methony]

[Her heart stops. Did he realize the direction she was lounging toward--but no, he mentioned the Force, he--

There's no reason to bother being subtle now that he knows what she's doing. Methony scrambles for the blaster and aims it with both hands.]

Why are you really here? Is this--

[She shuts her mouth. Bringing up Felix will only put him in trouble. He's only ten, he can't be involved in whatever the Empire wants her for.]

[t65]

[On instinct, Luke reaches out with the Force to pull the blaster out of Methony's hands. It sails through the air, turning in motion to fall into his grip. He puts it aside gently, not wanting it to go off by accident.]

I told you why I'm here. Don't you want to learn to use your gift?

[methony]

[Methony's knuckles are white, but the blaster slips from it anyway. Without it, her hands just look clawed and ugly. All she can do is ball them into fists as they drop to her sides.

She's crouched on the bed at this point, hair hanging around a scowl. If he tries anything, she can spring forward and try to scratch his eyes out--not that it'll matter, if he has the Force, but she's not giving in without a fight.]

I don't have a gift. [The words hiss out of her.] We both know you're from the Inquisitors. What is it you really want?

[t65]

You do. I've seen it. [But he's clearly not going to convince her with words. Luke picks up the blaster, and hands it back to her, the handle toward her. If they're to trust each other, he has to trust her.]

What do I need to do to convince you I'm Luke Skywalker?

[methony]

[She reaches for it in a quickly, fluid motion, and her one bit of deference to him is the fact that she doesn't point it at his heart. It's still dangerous when it's pointed at her mattress, considering how quickly she can move when she needs to, but he's not staring down the barrel any longer.]

What makes you think anything would work? Luke Skywalker has no reason to come here.

[t65]

Because it's the truth. I am here, Methony. I need students.

[Maybe if he speaks gently, makes it a need and not a want, she'll be more at ease?]

[methony]

[Uh-huh. Pull the other one, Whitesun.]

People with gifts become Inquisitors. You think I'd be here if I had the Force?

[t65]

Why do you trust the Inquisitors, but not me? [It comes out in a bit of a whine.] Despite what you've heard, it's very hard to tell when someone has the Force. And the Inquisitors are lazy; they don't like training people past the age of three, as far as I can tell.

[methony]

Trust?

[Another harsh laugh.]

Who said anything about trusting them?

[t65]

[He rolls his eyes a little. Luke is a hero, but he's not that kind, the one without moments of petulance or human emotion beyond stalwart conviction.]

Fine, believe. The Inquisitors are powerful, but they're poorly trained. People with the Dark Side of the Force, they can't sense things very well. The Inquisitors only train for power, not knowledge.

[methony]

They spend more time on Rim worlds than rebel Jedi.

[That's almost too easy, come on now.]

I know who I've seen more of.

[t65]

That's because there's only one of us. [Us. Rebel Jedi. He wouldn't be anything else.] I'm trying to change that.

[He holds out his hand to her. Trust me.] You don't have to train with me if you don't want to. [Though you don't need the Force to tell he really wants her to.] But you're not safe here.

[methony]

Because of the Stormtroopers?

[She's still skeptical. The Empire--or what's left of it--doesn't send its armies after brothel denizens.]

If they were looking for me, they would have found me years ago. [They found Felix, didn't they?]

[t65]

They're looking for me, and I'm here for you. It's possible they won't connect the two, but... [He doesn't like the fact that he's put her in danger, but there was no other way.] Do you want to stay here?

[He's asking her genuinely. If she does, he'll do his best to make sure she can.]

[methony]

I don't care where I am.

[That's the truth, and it comes out flat. Anywhere that isn't Troia is good enough, and a small, traitorous part of her holds out hope that her sons will remember this place when they're old enough to make their own fates.

It's not a line of questioning she wants to pursue any further, though, and she turns a sharp eye on Whitesun. Or Skywalker, if he's going to stand by that claim.]

Why do you think I have the Force, anyway?