| abstract
| - Abandoned Colony, Yavin IV It's apparently been some years since the buildings of this small community were occupied. Located on the same continent, almost 1200 kilometers from the great Massassi Temple that was converted into the Rebel base, the shelters constructed here were mostly makeshift to begin with, and neglect and abandonment have allowed the jungle to overgrow the structures in the ensuing time. The little self-sufficient society, which revolved around the group of Corellian archaeologists sent here to study the unique cultural history of Yavin's fourth moon, has long vanished, leaving behind a ghost town of delapidated stone buildings and abandoned streets. Ferns as large as some trees overhang the structures, growing through empty windows of the sturdier buildings that were built of stone rather than the temporary materials, which have fallen completely in. The streets are so overgrown that they no longer allow passage, the rainforest reclaiming the empty spaces and filling them with aggressively growing plants. What was once a path leading from the eastern edge of the town into the forest has also been overgrown. A reddish-golden glow from the wide lip of Yavin's silhouette filters down through the bright green foliage of the canopy as Jessalyn picks her way through the dense foliage. She's surprisingly good at it, slipping between slender trees and finding footholds among the heavy brush which might have seemed impassable to some. It's a feat not just attributable to her Jedi skills, but to a childhood spent doing just exactly that. This, after all, had indeed once been a trail that she helped blaze herself. From the time she was old enough to walk she was exploring the rainforest, undaunted by the stinger lizards and jumping spiders that waited to pounce upon unwary little girls. It was the only way to find the prettiest flowers, and not those awful hothouse creations that were tended to by the women of the camp. Jessalyn loved the wild-growing things, and the vineroses that creeped up the towering trunks of Yavin's dense forest. Those are the thoughts rushing through her mind as they near the old clearing, having parked their repulsor vehicle on the old landing pad that was still there from the old days. As she glimpses the first building, she gives a sad little laugh and shrugs her shoulders, looking back over her shoulder for Orson. "Here it is." For his part, Orson is doing fairly well, making his way through the dense vines and thick roots. What he lacks in speed, he makes up for in precision, and is careful to avoid brushing up against things that might be either too sensitive to bear his touch or that might cause his skin to have an averse reaction. He is dressed in a long skirt of dark black which reaches to just below his ankle, heavy boots visible when he has to jump over some object or another in the process of navigation. He is wearing a dark green vest with black trim on his torso, unbuttoned and merely draped on his otherwise bare shoulders. A wide-band of black cloth forms a tall cap on his head, flanked by long banners of green on either side which hang to his belt. "I didn't know you meant it was abandoned," Orson offers quietly, some reverence in his tone. He lifts a thick palm beneath one of his hat-banners and lets it fold in a pile in his hand. It makes a convenient cloth to wipe at his face, and after tending to his perspiration, he gives a hard look to Jessalyn. "Does it make you sad?" "It's been vacant a long time," Jessa sighs, her sturdy, soft leather boots carrying her into the shadow of the closest building. Reluctant to answer the question at first, she tips her head up to look at the crumbled roof, reaching out to touch her hand to the smooth wall that's left. "A little," she admits. "It's so different now. Of course it was only supposed to be temporary, everyone had homes to return to. Most of the people were Corellian. But... it was home to me. The only one I had known. I was sort of... raised by everyone, since I didn't have any parents." She keeps her back turned, her hair pinned loosely off her neck in an effort to keep a little cooler in the hot, muggy atmosphere. She wears the usual form-fitting tank top she has on when she's exercising, and the loose trousers whose multiple pockets along the thighs are filled with small, heavy items that make them sag around her knees. "It was all a long time ago," she adds, her back still to Orson. "But special," the Jedi Apprentice replies, eyes steady on Jessalyn's back. "It must have been, for you to talk about it like you do." With a little scuffing noise, one of Orson's boots dislodge some gravel and he steps beside her, past her, tapping the building with his palm. There's powerful past knitted up into the wall, and Orson fancies that he can feel part of it by understanding the color and texture of the surface. That's nothing new though, really. It's a strange little ritual he usually saves for only living things. "Are you in touch with any of them anymore?" He asks, thoughts drifting off. It's too humid to close his eyes and wear the mask of Jedi contentment. "The ones that helped you." Jessalyn lowers her hands, lacing them in front of her and turning just her head to glance at Orson. "A couple. Back before... well, not long after I finished my training, I met up with Xavier Nighman, who had worked with the group for a while. They were all foster parents, though. I didn't ever feel like I fit in. They were doing it more as a favor to my dead parents than anything else." She smirks slightly and leans her back against the stone wall, reaching out for Orson's hand. "I loved the rainforest, really. That was my escape." Scanning his surroundings like he's looking to find a firm line where jungle starts and this encampment ends, Orson shakes his head. "It is beautiful," he admits, quietly. "But there are dangers too. I can see that some would have sought to escape from it, rather than to it." He turns as well, sweeping his skirt around in a circle, to lean against the building. "I guess it toughened you up." He was fairly certain that this common thread in their background -- a self-made identity -- was a stronger binding element than they had yet discussed. Grinning now as she remembers, Jessalyn nods her bright red head, tucking a wayward coil of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I got stung more times than I can count. Bees liked to hang around my flower gardens for some strange reason," she says with self-mocking humor. "And I got more rashes from the touch-not shrubs than anyone else in the camp. You should have seen my legs when I was a kid. I'm surprised they're not all scarred!" Giving his hand a tug, she smiles into Orson's eyes as the memories drift up into her mind, letting the more pleasant ones dominate her thoughts, and offering a glimpse along the weave of the Force. "I'm glad I'm going to get to share it with you," she adds with a happy sigh. "Does it ever get any cooler here?" Orson says suddenly, not really asking, giving her hand a squeeze and pushing away from the wall. He gathers up the material of his skirt in one hand and flaps it to give a breeze to his legs. "You know, I half expect some monster or Sith to come charging through the trees at any moment." Still, it must not be worrying him too much since a broad grin spreads on his face. "We've been busy." "During the rainy season, it cools off some," she replies, straightening up, and flapping the front of her own shirt to let a little breeze hit her sweaty skin. "Perfect swimming weather, though, when you're not dodging monsters," Jessalyn muses with a sudden glint in her eyes as she sweeps her gaze across the periphery of the encampment where a barely discernible opening heads into the forest to the east. "I spent a lot of time there... just through the Tanglewood, there's this beautiful grotto. The pool is fed by a cold spring, and all kinds of beautiful flowers grow. My favorite kind of roses, too." With a wrinkled nose, she glances back at him. "We -have- been busy. Is this one of those times when we get to relax and be like normal people for a while? A little... Jedi peace?" "I think so," Orson replies without deliberation. "This way?" He starts stalking through the rubble and vines in the direction she's been looking. "If it's your favorite, I -have- to see it." With that, he's gone, planning a swim and a relaxing afternoon. They were surrounded by life. With some time and unwinding, it would not only be good practice but good medicine to mingle Forcefully with the plants and animals here. A different sort of vacation than he's ever taken. Jogging to catch up, Jessalyn heads for the opening in the brush, two towering behemoths crossed midway up their trunks marking the familiar entrance. It was almost eerie to be here again in person. Even when she'd been stationed at the base on Yavin, she hadn't come back here to visit. For some reason coming alone made it seem more like... a graveyard than a fond memory. She could dwell on the happier aspects, forget about the loneliness of her childhood, and share her fond attachment to this world with the love of her life. Shrugging through the underbrush, darting beneath dozens of low-hanging vines and branches that seem to grab for her but forever miss, she brings Orson to the rise in the terrain that looks down over the broad opening of the grotto. Which, Jessalyn tells herself with a soft gasp, hasn't changed at all from her memories. The grassy knoll gives way to a little valley, its depths filled with clear, reflective water, and bounded on all sides by flowers of too many varieties to count, sprouting up from the ground, cascading in vines over tree limbs, or in overhanging bushes that graze the calm surface of the water. "Wow," is all she says, stopping in her tracks and just... looking. With new eyes of her own. Placing his hands on his hips, Orson blows out a breath. The breath starts in his lower abdomen and rises, carrying a lot of stale air up and out from him. A lot of trepidation and concern about his seemingly complicated relationship with Jessalyn drifts away too, and he nods a few times at the valley of flowers as if they've explained it all to him. In a way, they have. "It's marvelous," Orson whispers, though he's not really talking about this place at all. He means the Place he's just arrived, another small step along a path that has lately seemed murky and obscure. The immediate future, at least, seems very clear. Seating herself briefly on the grassy hill, Jessalyn tugs off her boots and tosses them unceremoniously aside before she's scurrying to be closer to the water. Letting her toe touch the edge of the pool, she watches the ripple she caused spread out across the almost golden surface, lit as it is by the brightness of the sun and the gas giant that stands sentinel in the calm blue sky. Turning at last, she beams him a luminous smile. "Orson..." A million things she could add to that one simple word fail to come to her lips. She's felt, perhaps, some of his hesitation lately, and hasn't had the chance to try to discover the source of the problem. She has her own insecurities, and the memory of his last departure is still a painful reminder of how tentative this could be. She swallows as she looks at him, slowly beginning to pick up on the subtle shadings of emotion coming from Orson. Beckoning with an inviting hand she finally calls out, "Come!" Flashing a boyish grin at his girlfriend -- not his teacher at the moment, though it would be hard for her to lose that role completely -- Orson starts down the hill, slipping slightly but catching his footing and having to turn once to remove his arm from a low-looped vine. He's tugging off his ornate headgear as he walks, and runs his hand through a damp field of flat hair when it's free. "Is it safe? To... swim?" With that, he drops the hat and starts pulling off his vest, regardless. "Oh, of course!" she says without hesitation, pausing as she grabs the tuck of her own shirt to watch Orson with a good deal of appreciation, grinning stupidly. "You owe me a swim, remember?" She uses both hands to pull off the tank top before quickly unbuckling her saber-belt and setting it carefully in a spot on the pool's bank. It's an odd feeling, to be so isolated on this world, knowing there are no other people around to disturb them, but she revels in it. Their own private little world for now. Her trousers join the useless pile of clothes on the ground as she sloshes forward into the pool, a shiver going through her at the shock of the cold water surrounding her overheated body when she lifts her feet and swims across the surface to where the water is deeper. "It's better to just go in completely at first! It's really cold!" she warns. "I didn't bring my wetsuit with me..." Orson replies, waving a hand at her but drawing it back when her skin is exposed, in mock fear. "I thought you said this was safe," he comments to her departing form, slipping out of his skirt without much effort. He ignores her advice however, putting a foot squarely into the water and yanking it back out. With a half-jump, he falls in the water somewhat clumsily. As the shock enters his body, he lifts his head and shakes his hair, face full of color now. Like a well-meaning predator, he starts swimming for her, pulling his arms and legs against the water. "Let's live here," he suggests, half-joking. Gasping out as her body shivers in the intense but refreshing coolness, Jessalyn wipes water from her eyes and then widens them as Orson swims towards her, a truly surprised expression forming. "Are you serious?" she asks as she swims a few strokes to meet him, her pale body like a lithe, ghostly shadow beneath the clear surface of the water. "Us?" A hint of dampened down hope flickers in her voice, the kind she tries to keep from him most of the time, for fear of sending him fleeing from her forever. Orson dips half of his face beneath the water, seeming quite a bit more creaturely with half of his expression hidden. Large clear drops of pool water cling to the longer whiskers in his beard. "Holovids would be hard to come by," he muses, lifting out of the water just long enough to comment. "And you'd have to farm our food." With a gulp of air, he dips completely under the water, darting under her easily in the still water. The seemingly amphibious Orson is gone for a long moment. Something -- well, something familiar -- pinches her on the bottom. A few meters away, Orson rises, preceded by a stream of bubbles. Jessalyn's yelp is to no one's benefit but her own since Orson is still beneath the surface of the water when he pinches her, but when he surfaces she laughs even as she scowls at him in mock-offense. "Aren't you bold!" she teases, moving for him now, arms outstretched to wrap around him when she's finally close enough. "Not like we'd be stuck here, of course. A little jump on the Uwannabuyim could take us back to civilization whenever we felt too cooped up," she says, rolling the idea around in her head, a quiver of excitement starting to form as she kicks her legs in a slow dance, keeping her upright and afloat. Orson darts backward with a little scissor-kick, but then reverses directions and scoops her up in his arms. "This would be a neat retreat spot, at least," he muses carefully, inadvertantly not commiting to anything but at least enjoying the fantasy with her. "Yes, I suppose that is a little bold." He gives her a close squeeze, and enjoys the warming effect she has on his chest. Lacing her fingers at the nape of his neck, Jessalyn searches Orson's face carefully, feeling her vulnerability rather keenly and on several levels. "I like it when you're bold," she confesses, grinning again, and falling back on humor as her failsafe. "Even on Corellia... when we went swimming. You had an interesting effect on me." Through a little of her own direction, they drift beneath the overhang of an ancient tree whose branches dip far out over the water, the lower limbs weighted down with twining vineroses. The sparkle in her vibrant green eyes grows mischievous as she tips her head back into the water, exposing her pale throat in invitation. Caught in this fantasy trap, Orson submits, tasting cool water as he slides toward her, nibbling. Soon, it's hard to keep this up and remain swimming. Searching for a foothold under the water, the mechanic finds one, and is in better straights to fly her around. Happily, the man twirls her around in the pool, watching the wake of red hair slide through the crystal water...
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