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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Nov 26, 2013 18:58:15 GMT -8
The palms of her hands were sweaty, no matter how many times she tried to wipe them on her skirt. The tram was moving too swiftly for her liking, taking her to onward to the square in the center of town. She was supposed to meet Silas there in a few minutes but as they drew closer to the stop, her stomach churned and trembles threatened to stay her feet when it came time to exit the car. She did not know why this meeting was upsetting Ciri so much, she and Silas had been talking like old friends for well over a year. She had grown rather fond of the sound of his voice, and when she couldn't speak with him because of his duties, she missed it. She never told him that, of course but it was true nonetheless. The tram slowed to a stop, swaying the passengers as the hydraulics whooshed their dismay. She pondered the open door across from her until the ping sounded the doors closing and she darted through them onto the platform just in time, the fabric of her skirt almost caught by the rubber lips of the closing portal.
It was a sunny afternoon and she walked away from the station cautiously, feeling trapped and panicky, a continuous loop of her own worst doubts playing in her head. What if he didn't like her? What if he thought she looked better in pictures? She took as many calming breaths as she could muster, her dark eyes scanning the area, looking for the physical embodiment of the friend she had made on the other side of the planet. She walked slowly, her hair tucked up in a bun, slight curls escaping here and there. She normally wore her hair down, but he had remarked some months before that he liked updos. It had stuck with her but now every little detail was subject to double check and scrutiny. Would it seem like she was trying too hard? She sank down to a park bench, watching the passersby. She tapped her foot nervously, wanting to get this over with so she could shrink away with her disappointment.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Nov 26, 2013 19:46:05 GMT -8
Ciri wasn't sure how Silas would end up reacting to her being in his city. It wasn't as if she had come all this way just to meet him, she had been called here for a diplomatic conference, as she served on a financial delegation for the Techno Union. It happened to be near his town and presented a perfect excuse for her to bring up having dinner. Or drinks. Or coffee. She had stuttered over the invitation, stressing that it was purely platonic, as she did not want to scare him off. To her, it was so much more than platonic, but her insecurities about her past life caused her concern.
In the course of their blossoming friendship, it was revealed that she she had come from a culture that embraced a very open sense of love and relationships. Youths were encouraged to experiment with sex, and different partners in order to be fully aware of their bodies and the potential needs of a future romantic partner. She knew other cultures didn't always view this the same way but she had never been bothered by the differences until she found herself attracted to Silas. She felt embarrassed by her culture, as it was a sign of poor character in his. She bit on her bottom lip, thinking about how now he would joke about letting her have her ways with him but knowing that in her heart, they were empty promises.
Ciri glanced at her chronometer, it was nearly time but she couldn't see the blond haired man who had stolen her heart anywhere. Perhaps she pushed too hard to meet him? Maybe he was having second thoughts. After all, the polite words for her people were still things that were vile and debase. Zeltrons were just different people and that's all she could say. Her light pink skin was smooth and shiny, complimented by her deep blue hair and dark eyes. Her lips matched her hair, something she always enjoyed about herself although she wondered now if she should have put on makeup to look more palatable. Silas was human, and she was already a bright pink, the color that the pale skinned species turned after exposure to a particularly hot shower. Relax, she told herself. He knows you're a Zeltron, silly girl.
Two minutes late.
The lump in her throat was catching.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Nov 26, 2013 20:14:59 GMT -8
Silas watched her arrival from inside the shop, a bottle of water in his hand, frozen in place. Dear heavens, she was more beautiful in person than he could have imagined. The line of people behind him waiting to pay pulled his attention back to the present and he pushed some money into the hand of the attendant and stepped aside for the pushy Rodian behind him to make his purchase. He couldn't go out there. She looked like a movie star, so elegant and worldly wise. Everything in her ensemble matched, from her hair to her lips to skin tone to clothes. She had polish and shine and more lovers than, well, he would rather not think about that.
A lady like her doesn't pay attention to guys like him, but he had grown awfully fond of her. A first it was completely casual, meeting up on a social network because they shared similar tastes in films and history. Before long, it was long emails and conversations of ideologies. He couldn't remember now who decided to call first, but she had a voice to match the pictures. Typical of most women in the galaxy, she could not see herself as pretty, as surely as we all are far too aware of our own faults and shortcomings. She insisted that as far as her people went, she was merely average, nothing special to write home about. It was what drove her into business dealings. She told him she was far better at negotiating than others, partly due to her heritage.
It did intimidate him. She was not Corellian, she could not understand the pull of a life of duty or the air of supremacy they seemed to foster among themselves, but not everything came easy to him. He had worked long and hard for the commission he now occupied with distinction. It left little time for socializing or pursuits of romance. While it had never bothered him while he was younger, now that friends and family asked when it would be his turn, he had no answers to give. There were women who caught his eye, but he doubted his ability to get much past hello. Women were a universal enigma to him, best left to others while he stuck to the problems he knew he could answer.
The last year had seen them drawing closer, the conversations more personal and more pointed. He had the benefit of anonymity from her. It was a screen or a voice, a disembodied one at that. Looking at her in the flesh now, he felt the insecurities creeping up. It was just dinner. Just friends, she had reassured him. Meanwhile, he had felt the ache of loneliness in him when she mentioned the word platonic. He did not want her to be just a friend, but he felt as though no one with her kind of past would be happy with someone who lacked so many experiences. He was not a Zeltron and he felt it would only lead to misunderstandings. Besides that, he was very used to the romantic old ideas of a lifelong love affair with a partner and starting a family. From what he could tell of her species, they could love like that, but often there were many that they felt those feelings for.
Speaking of feelings, his stomach dropped at the last bit she never mentioned to him. Zeltrons were empathic. She would feel all these things in him, the gig would be up. He paled thinking that he wasn't ready to let her know yet about all the doubts he carried in him. He was a decorated naval officer, he had risen through the ranks to central command and yet in matters of the heart, he was worse than a green cadet, fresh off the boat from Coronet City.
Eight minutes late.
He couldn't do it.
Slipping out the side door of the shop, around the corner from the side facing the park, he took off up the street away from where Ciri sat in the setting sun, hope fading in her eyes like the light of the dying day.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Nov 27, 2013 7:27:34 GMT -8
30 minutes late.
There was probably a good reason, she told herself. Something came up, he had a meeting he couldn't get out of. He stopped to valiantly rescue a kindly old woman from the clutches of a supervillain. He was delayed by traffic or broken down tram. He forgot. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat that refused to move as she stroked the comlink in her hand with her thumb. She had pulled it out 20 minutes ago to see if there was a message about him running late. Nothing so far.
To pass the time as she waited, she tried to recall the last few conversations they had, maybe there was a clue to his absence in the things he told her. A special project that needed to be completed perhaps, but nothing stuck out. Not that she could concentrate much anyway. Her mind had jumped to so many conclusions, wild ideas floated in her mind that he had met someone at breakfast or hooked up with an old girlfriend in the supermarket that afternoon, completely forgetting the Zeltron girl who could feel her heart breaking with every minute that ticked away.
45 minutes late.
He leaned against the door of his apartment, feeling awful. She sent a message he ignored a few minutes earlier. He didn't know what to tell her. He felt awful, a sick twist in the pit of his belly that threatened to spread to his lungs as it got tight to breathe. He had talked to her a hundred times, but he never had to look in her eyes. She might have professed to be an average Zeltron but on Corellia she was an exotic beauty that rated way out of his league. In that moment of doubt, he ceased seeing his friend sitting on that bench and saw every girl that had ever been a fascination to him and every girl that politely stabbed holes in his heart by putting a soft hand on his arm and telling him that he was like a brother to her.
The dreaded friend zone. The overwhelming thought that he couldn't be enough for her. The nagging idea that she would see through him with her empathy. These ideas swirled in a miasma of self doubt and guilt. He stood her up. On purpose. He needed a drink. He grabbed an ale out of the fridge, drinking down a couple gulps. It was doing nothing to take the edge off his panic. He needed to focus on something else. Leaving the bottle on the kitchen counter, he headed out the door again.
6 hours.
She sat in her hotel room, looking out at the lights of Galactic City. A message to him went unanswered. A call unanswered. She worried that something had happened to him. He was missing from the social network they normally used to communicate. It was times like these that she wished she could get drunk, but a double liver meant she had to drink far too heavily to even feel a little bit of a buzz. It wasn't worth it. She had a Senate subcommittee meeting in the morning and she needed to be sharp. She had pulled her hair down after she returned, the blue waves of curls masking her face. She hadn't eaten dinner, she was starving but somehow food just didn't sound appealing.
She readied herself for early bedtime, turning out the lights. She preferred the darkness right about now. She was about to shut down her terminal when the program flashed a bubble to alert her someone was online. It was him. Her breath caught in her throat and she moved to type something to him but her fingers froze over the keys. She had tried to reach him this afternoon twice and he never picked up. She didn't think she could be ignored three times in a day. She pulled her fingers back from the keyboards as though it were electrified. She just watched it, holding her breath without realizing it.
Ping.
CorNavAce22: Ciri, you there?
It was her turn to be frozen by inaction. He had to have a good reason for standing her up. Rescuing puppies. Foiling an assassination on a visiting ruler. War broke out somewhere. She reached for the keys and hesitated. Her hands balled up and she squeezed her eyes closed before she typed an answer in a burst of equal parts courage and foolishness.
PnkLadiBlu: Hi.
Silas breathed out a sigh. He had been working on supply logisitics all night at work, it was the only thing he could think of to throw himself into to to make him not think about what an idiot he had been. Now he had to apologize for it. The truth sat heavily on his shoulders as he typed it out, erased and typed again. No matter how he worded it, it just looked wrong and he didn't know if he could admit to her that he had watched her arrive only to run away like a coward.
CorNAvAce22: I'm sorry about this afternoon. I got called into work, and I couldn't answer my com in these meetings. I hope you didn't wait long.
A sad wave of relief washed over her but the cracks in the foundation remained. He had been detained. Work with the Navy was bound to be their terms, not your own. But the self doubt in her mind still stoked the fact that he had bailed on her. She felt obligated for the normal responses.
PnkLadiBlu: It's ok. Maybe half an hour.
She lied. She couldn't tell him she sat there an hour, desperately wanting to be wrong. But she had dated enough to read between the lines now.
CorNAvAce22: I'm so sorry. I'll have to make it up to you sometime.
He figured that language was neutral enough that it would seem like something came up and he was busy.
PnkLadiBlu: It's ok. I understand. Some other time then.
There was nothing accidental about her ordeal this afternoon. He was far too nonchalant about this. "I'll have to make it up to you sometime." That was universal girl code for "I don't really want to see you, but I'm being polite about your feelings." But it wasn't polite. Right now, she wanted to cry. But he wasn't worth the tears. At least that's what she told herself as she bid him good night.
PnkLadiBlu: I've got early meetings in the morning. I'm gonna turn in. Night.
She signed off and shut the terminal down but sleep would not come to her until long after midnight.
Ping.
Silas stared as the ping drew him from typing a response to her. She left abruptly. Silas ran his hand down his face and cupped his chin. She knew. And he felt even worse for it now.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Nov 28, 2013 17:36:52 GMT -8
6 weeks later.
The offices were nearly empty as Ciri toiled on, the testimony for the Senate meeting tomorrow was almost compiled. Ciri's work of late had her more and more in Galactic City and she had just moved to be closer to the Senate as she spent a great deal of time working on behalf of the CIS and Techno Union. She had impressed the Senate liaisons when she was here 6 weeks ago and that had paved the way for the promotion she now enjoyed. It certainly kept her busy, she barely had time to sleep. She hadn't had much time to socialize although as her tired eyes were losing focus on the report she was working on, she noticed the flash of the messenger window.
Ping.
CorNavAce22: Hey
The message popped up, sucking the breath out of her lungs. She stared at the message, an internal debate raging over whether or not she would acknowledge that she was there. He had messaged her a few times here and there, but she had always kept it casual and short, excuses about workloads falling from her fingers without a second thought. Not that it would have been a lie tonight with the deadline looming, but she didn't feel like talking. She hid the window, her nimble pink fingers flying over her keyboard as she continued on.
CorNavAce22: Ciri, talk to me.
She sighed and cradled her head in her hands, not really wanting to delve into this conversation right now. She dropped her hands to her desk, dreading the awkward exchange that.
PnkLadiBlu: Hey. I'm at work. Can't talk.
She closed the window, determined that she would not answer him again. She set to task again, the last few touches on the report almost complete. It was half hour later, just as she saved the file, that the silence of her office was shattered again.
Ping.
CorNavAce22: Ciri, look I know you're upset. You've barely spoken to me since the day we were supposed to meet.
She was tired, hungry and not in the mood for dealing with his insecurities or his lines tonight. She pounded out an answer to him, her anger driving her fingers on the keyboard heavily.
PnkLadiBlu: I have meetings with the Senate in the morning and trade reps all afternoon. I need to get some sleep.
CorNavAce22: Wait, you're here?
There was no answer for him as she signed off.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Dec 4, 2013 21:26:42 GMT -8
Two days later.
Things were not going well for Silas lately, the pressure of running supply routes during the war was draining. Fighting took place away from Coruscant, but making sure that the clone armies had what they needed sometimes stretched the Republic Navy to the brink. Silas wished he was out on the front lines, cursing his injuries from a crash 10 years ago now. He was lucky to survive crashing his starfighter to begin with, but in the depression that followed his recovery it was hard to see a life different from the one he had known. He had been given a desk job, but his attention to detail impressed. He was given better assignments over the years until he landed in fleet logistics.
He was finally released from the office late tonight, his mind frazzled from juggling the convoys of relief goods among all the commanders and generals screaming for more of the very limited resources. He scarcely paid attention to anything on his way home, staring blankly at the passing neon lights and blurred cityscape. He wanted to turn on a ball game and relax with a beer, but he knew he should drag himself to bed. He floated through the station, down the streets to his apartment.
He sank down on the couch eventually, a cold bottle in his hand, his mind blanking on the names of the teams playing. He had turned on his terminal to send a reminder to himself about requisition in process. He had just set it down when he heard the telltale chime of an incoming message.
Ping.
PnkLadiBlu: Hey Silas. Sorry I never got back to you the other night, things have been crazy lately. I know we haven't spoken much the last few weeks. I just haven't known what to say you. I lied about that afternoon. I sat there for an hour. I was heart broken when you didn't show up. I thought we had a connection but you lied to me. And I can't figure out why. Who does that to someone who is supposed to be a friend?
The breath was sucked from his lungs? How did she know that he lied to her? He leaned forward, stroking his chin with his left while he tried to think of a proper response. Perhaps he could just play dumb.
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Post by Drucillia Maldives on Dec 5, 2013 10:38:23 GMT -8
CorNAvAce22: What do you mean I lied to you?
Act casual. That's what he needed to do. His brain felt fuzzy from half a beer and being worked to death these past weeks. A voice in the back of his subconscious lashed out about her mind tricks and how unfair it is to read someone's mind but maybe that wasn't it. Could you read their mind in writing?
PnkLadiBlu: You saiid youd make itu p to me soometime then you got off
PnkLadiBlu: If you had really wanted to see me you would have rescheduled
PnkLadiBlu: You would have talked to me about it but yu got offline I have been around enough to know what that means you bailed on purpose
Oh merciful heavens, he was transparent in his language. In trying to play it cool, he had come off as callous and uncaring, but in hindsight he couldn't imagine that her knowing he had been a nervous wreck was any better. Her writing looked distressed, no punctuation, spelling errors. Was she drunk?
PnkLadiBlu: It hurt
PnkLadiBlu: Was it another womn?
PnkLadiBlu: Stringing me alonng for the fun of it?
She was typing in bursts now, the booze moving her hands as she typed, corrected her mistakes and typed again, not that it managed to rid her posts of their errors. She had to drink quite a lot to reach this state, but it had been a good night. There was a Techno Union gala and she had been praised for her efforts. She had been feeling particularly good about herself and upon coming home and seeing him online, she had the liquid courage to ask him for answers.
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