Hoth: Staying Fit Throughout Middle Age

[Ashin Varanin]

So far as Ajira was concerned, age's most irritating problem was the tendency of her memories to get together and pop out similar-but-not-identical spawn at a positively leporine rate. Flashbacks had flings no matter how little they had in common. Her long-term memory had turned into a mix and mingle, or some less polite variation thereupon.

All that to say: she couldn't recall if she'd ever been to Hoth. Belsavis, sure, and a couple of chilly Fringe worlds, plus this one ice moon where she'd been trapped in a Sith crypt as a very young Jedi Knight. Ziost once or twice, Dromund Kaas after Larraq. Plenty of cold planets in all their glory. But Hoth? Maybe, maybe not. It rang a faint bell, but most things did at this point in her life. The taste of the wind, the color of the snow and the sky -- all struck her as just a bit familiar. When she tried an especially challenging ski hill, her wipeouts brought her face-to-face with nature but no closer to backtracking the genealogy of a memory. Maybe she'd been here before; maybe not.

She wiped out a lot. Her thing was remaining immovable. She could take a turbolaser to the chest or get stepped on by a Gorax, but motion was something else entirely. Skiing was an exercise in frustration and futility. Mostly she'd come here to the new Star Tours resort on Mount Ison because she needed to get off Naboo for a while. Get some exercise, poke around at certain aspects of recent Hoth history, maybe strike a deal or two, and come back refreshed. Clearly there was nothing more refreshing than a wipeout on a double-black run, nor the grumpy, awkward hike back to the ski lodge for hot chocolate. At least she kept her Force presence concealed throughout. A fight would have been quite refreshing, but totally out of character for her current identity.

 

[Allyson Locke]

[SIZE=13.3333px]Holocrons and Datacrons were a wonderful thing. Spencer had a vast collection ranging from cooking to skiing and snowboarding. With the ability to drain the knowledge of everything she had in her collection, she was able to absorb the knowledge and manage to work her body into the way she needed it to be in to do what she wanted to do. A skill that was nurtured from a young age. Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle at [member="Ajira Cardei"] wiping out consistently. Unlike others she knew what the woman was at her core, which was hilarious.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]Seeing another wipe out, Spencer decided to show off a bit. Her boots strapped into the skis and she moved down the slope and managed to find the ramp and do a small little flip with the aid of the Force over the downed Nabooian. Landing she spun enough to spatter a bit of snow towards the woman. If Ajira looked towards her, Spencer stuck out her tongue and used the ski poles to guide her towards Ajira. “Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble there.” Spencer needed a vacation as well, despite being consistently on Naboo which it was something like a vacation in general. It was nice to actually for the most part to feel Ajira like she used to at times, though with her hiding her force presence Spencer couldn't feel much besides the possible blood trail she had placed on her at some point with her stay on Naboo.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]"Mmm, hot cocoa?" [/SIZE]

 

[Disciple]

Who built a ski resort on Hoth.

That was like building a furnace in an armory. Just plain silly.

He slithered through the vents, claws pulling him along effortlessly, his chitinous body uniquely adapted to fit in cramped spaces you wouldn't expect to find a uh... 'sentient being.' Though, to call Disciple sentient would be like calling Omni a computer, but then again, he'd made Omni, once upon a time. Universal takeover by proxy, or something. Sniffing at the air, he allowed a line of drool to leave his lipless mouth and he made for the kitchen.

It smelled of juicy meats.

He followed the vent to a junction, and made for the deep freeze. He waited, palms on either wall to stabilize himself, and as the chef came in to get his food... he lunged downward, dragging him up into the vents by his head. He'd have screamed, but Disciple had sunk his claws straight into this throat, so all that came out was a gurgle.

The only mark of his passage was a chilly sense of terror, a discarded vent cover, and a missing person.

Whoever made this place was going to have shares dropping like the bodies he'd be eating.

Nice, crunchy face.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Something enormously large on skis blew past [member="Ajira Cardei"] and [member="Spencer Varanin"], raising a veritable tidal wave of powder in its wake, which glinted beautifully beneath the sun's rays for one surreal moment before showering down on the pair in an unforecast snowfall.

The behemoth skidded to an ungainly halt some meters away. A keen eye would make out the figure as a rather unmistakable gray-white Herglic with a scarred snout. A trill issued from his maw, followed by a quick clack of the teeth.

"Blasted sport. Supposed to wait until it melts, then swim in it." The self-rumblings were quite audible to any within proximity, since they more closely resembled the earth-shaking noise of an avalanche than any conventional Basic speech.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@Mobius @Disciple @Spencer Varanin

In the back of her mind, Ajira felt something odd. Evil. Maybe the thing she'd come here to hunt, or maybe just a coincidence. "I can confirm that hot chocolate is the plan," she said, trudging past her former self's wife with skis over her shoulder. "Once I get back to the lodge-"

Snow blanketed her, overwhelming and poofy. Her first instinct was to do what she did best. A full-body Force shield surrounded her in a moment's haze, keeping off most of the snow even as it hit. Such a defense was not in keeping with the life of Ajira Cardei, untrained Force-sensitive. Perhaps nobody had noticed. The disturbance had been very minor, and the source of the snowfall -- a massive skiing Herglic -- was the only nearby sentient to whom Ajira was not secretly married.

The Herglic grumbled volubly. Ashin could empathize. "You heading back to the lodge too?" she called. "Bit off more than I can chew on this run." Normally, she was told, one would just tough it out down the slope, wipeout after wipeout. Just through the scrub trees, though, was a switchbacked stairway that ran all the way up the mountain, a scenic route that also played emergency backup to the ultralong chairlift.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Stowaway, Stowaway​

Ria had to stop falling asleep in random places, namely, ships' engine areas, cargo areas. Stretching her body she smacked her lips together, "where in the feth." She asked aloud as she casually drops down from cargo netting and walks through the vessel, shuddering she put her arms over her chest, "kark it's cold." Still not aware of where she was exactly, all she knew was that the vessel was relatively empty and she let out one long whistle as she looked around the vessel. "Blessed matriarch this place is fancy."

Her stomach grumbled, and so the slicer made her way to the galley? Kitchen? Whatever it had food, and that's what she wanted, "okay whoever owns this has spent way too much credits on fancy food." She says while grabbing at said fancy food. Taking a bite of one thing she spat it out, "ugh gross, ew, ew, ew." Looking down at the mess, "feth, bad stowaway." Ria grabbed a towel and began to clean up her mess and put the said food item away and grabbed a piece of fruit, that at least wasn't terribly disgusting. And it would settle her stomach a little as she walked out of the food area and down the hallway as it were. She saw pictures here and there of a couple, a blonde and ... okay, oh, okay. Ria was seeing the other person change and tilted her head, "okay then."

Walking into what looked like a relaxing area she put her hands on her hips. "Looks wiz, so wiz, how much glitter do you have to have to afford a place like this?" Ria asked aloud as she looked around, sitting down on a rather good looking sofa, "ow!" Sitting up, "what kinda people live here? Old people? Sheesh." The stowaway decided to explore more rather than try her bum at sitting down again, the cargo netting was more comfortable in her opinion. Making her way back down the hall with some haste she stopped when she noticed a bedroom, somewhere. And in here, she smiled, "okay now that, that looks good."

Ria managed her way to the bed, "ah, oh yeah, that's good." It was softer than she was expecting, at least from her experience with the sofa, or was it that the side she landed on was softer. Maybe, stretching herself out she looked at the fruit in her hand and tossed it to the ground as she grabbed for pillows, and inhaled. "Oh someone's got the good stuff," she mentions at the scent of the high quality whatever this person wore or washed with. Either she was tired, or this bed was a soul sucking one and was luring her to her death, and if this is her death, it felt good, oh it felt so, so good.

[member="Ajira Cardei"]

 

[Disciple]

The next pair of victims knew what was coming. Disciple, while a creature out of time, was like a flash of lightning in a distant stormcloud, or the tang of snow on the chill winter's air. Dread was his cold front, violence his high pressure system. So it was that the pair of resort goers - fresh from their turn at the 'slopes' of the frigid death planet - met an untimely fate. He left them where they'd fallen.

One, the refresher, arterial spray painting the ceiling and glass door, a single bloody hand print and cracked glass testament to his brief spasm before death.

The other crumbled against the wall outside the refresher, mouth open in horror from seeing Disciple's grisly work before succumbing, too, to his dangerous appetites.

No faces to be munched here, and he was scampering off to his next feeding ground before the bodies had started to cool. And outside, [member="Ajira Cardei"] no doubt caught another whiff of something.

 

[Allyson Locke]

[SIZE=13.3333px]Spencer had done a stupendous job at keeping herself away from the snow, well more like keeping the snow out of her hair and the like. When snow attacked and found its way in places you didn’t want it to be, it would melt and become wet. Being drenched wasn’t something Spencer particularly liked. As the massive [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]whale[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] sloshed snow all over the place, Spencer who was used to Ajira’s former self using the force protection to protect [/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px]both[/SIZE][SIZE=13.3333px] of them; discovered that this time wasn’t the case. Closing her eyes, Spencer felt the flurry of powdered sloshing snow whip against her face. As the mess died down, Spencer stood there and wondered how the snow had penetrated the Force, that Ajira should have protected her with. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]Spitting out whatever dirt particles that kicked up into her mouth as she had opened it to yell at the whale. After a few moments of getting used to being sloshed, Spencer sighed softly and looked towards Ajira. There was a pout and a hint of a whine in her voice, something that the woman would have probably been used to by now. “I’m all wet…” Spencer continued to follow Ajira, the woman owed her now after the whale and the snow. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]“I really hope there’s hot cocoa...I’m freezing - Why Hoth by the way?” Spencer was curious as to why the woman had chosen Hoth. As she focused on their surroundings, something hit her deep in her stomach. Frowning, she didn't look towards Ajira, “Something doesn't’ feel right…” That dark feeling, she quickly assumed that’s what Ajira was coming here for. The feeling continued, there were rifts in the force that crashed, Spencer stopped and held the bridge of her nose. "Something is really bad..." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]Back on the Ship[/SIZE]

[SIZE=13.3333px]The young stowaway would find herself being intoxicated by Spencer’s lavender shampoo and conditioner. She had a few extra bottles under the sink, mostly in case her and Ajira stay aboard the ship for long periods of time. That occurrence hasn’t happened in this life time of Ashin’s form, but it was still a concept and pasted time that Spencer looked forward to one day having back.[/SIZE]

[member="Disciple"] [member="Ria Misrani"] [member="Ajira Cardei"] [member="Mobius"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Mobius D'ik, the inheritor of Herglic Trade Empire, Darkwater Security et al., turned his scarred visage in the direction of the hailing voice. Beady, deep-set eyes fixed on the two humans not so far away. They looked an intriguing sort.

"I believe that sounds entirely too agreeable," he rumbled in reply. In truth, the climes of Hoth proved no benign mistress, even for a being insulated in blubber.

Next began the long struggle of detaching the skis from his feet, an arduous process completed only after two successive falls. Slinging the poles and skis over one broad shoulder, Mobius shambled through the snow, following after the two humans.

The sun reflected off his bald pate, blindingly radiant.

He caught the tail end of a question on his approach. "Hoth: the unconquered, wild frontier. A sense of the untamed, hauum, excellently exploited by Star Tours."

[member="Spencer Varanin"] | [member="Ajira Cardei"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

Stowaway, Stowaway​

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[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHavJC1Y5Fo[/media]​

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"Wow," Ria pulled the pillow into her body, "just wanna steal this, she looked at the pillow next to it and went to smell it." She scrunched up her nose and then put her nose back into the other one. "Primadonna," she says as she lifts the lavender scented pillow, "someone's high maintenance." She looks over to the closet and smirks and then spots the bathroom, "HOLY LEKKUS!" Ria shouted as she jumped off the bed and scrambled into the bathroom. "Oh sweet bubblegum lips," she gasped and put a hand to her chest, "what kinda glitter are these people rolling in?"

Then she saw herself in the mirror, "ew." The blonde was a little grossed out by her own appearance, but then hygiene was a luxury growing up, and even now it seemed to be something out of her grasp. She stared at herself, she was the dirty little kid no one wanted. Raised in the cantinas and the back allies, raised to slice and dice for bounty hunters - taught that she was only a tool for Sotta to use. Just another gun for Tylo, just another brick in the wall, and as she looked around her surroundings. Whoever this all belonged to, they had found a way to rise out of their circumstances. Closing her eyes she felt her jaw tighten, and as she opened them she looked at herself in the mirror and for a moment saw the person she wanted to be.

And that person didn't need to count on being able to sleep in random ships, or in random places, that person would be able to do what they wanted. When they wanted, and so Ria peeled off her dirty clothes, shook the dirt from her hair and looked to the shower and crossed toward it, turning the water. She didn't care that it was cold, the clear liquid hit her skin, washing away filth and grime.

The drain collected the particles of dirt that would not go through, and as the water warmed and steam rose. The transformation became more symbolic, she didn't use anything other than the body washes, shampoos and conditioners there pouring them into her hands one by one, and as the water rinsed each layer of soap from her body. Another layer of filth was washed out, and with two hands to the shower walls, Ria let it pour over her back.

When she was done, she walked out of the shower and looked at the steamed up mirror. She spotted a little cabinet above the fresher and crossed to it. Grabbing a towel she wrapped it around herself, figuring she'd clean up the water droplets later. Putting her hand to the mirror she wiped away the steam and saw for the first time, in years, her own face. A clean reflection, and as she toweled herself dry she once again envisioned herself being someone who would not need to rely on anyone or anything. Looking down to the ground she scooped up her dirty clothes and looked around until she found a place for dirty clothes and stuffed them there. She tossed the towel in as well, and then made her way to the bedroom, where she grabbed the piece of fruit from the floor and crossed to the kitchen to throw it away and then made her way back to the bedroom, and this time she went for clothes.

After enough digging, refolding, gasping and probably oogling of clothes. She managed to find something as close to her usual Underground clothes as possible. Licking her lips she checked herself in the mirror and then got down to finding a comb or brush that either hadn't been used or looked like it could be cleaned off. Opting for skin, neutral colored cosmetics she went about finding sterile equipment, q-tips, unused pencils, and the like to freshen herself up.

Feeling confident and clean, she went to clean up the floor, and then she'd have to grab her gear from the cargo netting. Afterward, Ria hoped she could find a transport off of whatever fething planet she came on. Make her way back to Demonsgate or Kal'Shebbol and keep working out of there. Or at least make contact with Bryce, or General Merrill, pick up a new assignment from them if she could.

In the cargo area, she climbed up atop of containers and storage boxes up to the netting where she busied herself with picking up her pistols, utility belt, satchel and bandoleer and began to gear herself up. With her gear in place, she got down from the cargo netting and headed for a more formal area of the vessel. In this case, the galaxy map and there she punched up to find where exactly she was, "Hoth!?" She exclaimed, "bloody fething Hoth?"

Hitting the wall above the map, she pulled her hand back, "son of a hutt." She seethed, "gah, Hoth?! I ended up on Hoth!?" Marching down the hall cradling her hand and paced back up, "how in the kark am I getting off Hoth?" The blonde asked herself, she headed back to the bedroom and went face down back into that lavender scented pillow, "bloody flippin' Hoth, what's a primadonna girl like you doin' on Hoth?" She asks the pillow, "and why do you have such a lovely smelling pillow, kark it, I'm takin' this pillow." Ria told herself as she took the pillow with her and went back to the cargo area, shimming up until she got to the netting, there she slung her gear back up and threw the pillow up there as well. Rustling through a few of her things that were up there, she grabbed a tablet and began to check in on a few things.

[member="Ajira Cardei"] | [member="Spencer Varanin"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Spencer Varanin"]

There was a pout and a hint of a whine in her voice, something that the woman would have probably been used to by now. “I’m all wet…” Spencer continued to follow Ajira, the woman owed her now after the whale and the snow. “I really hope there’s hot cocoa...I’m freezing - Why Hoth by the way?” Spencer was curious as to why the woman had chosen Hoth. As she focused on their surroundings, something hit her deep in her stomach. Frowning, she didn't look towards Ajira, “Something doesn't’ feel right…” That dark feeling, she quickly assumed that’s what Ajira was coming here for. The feeling continued, there were rifts in the force that crashed, Spencer stopped and held the bridge of her nose. "Something is really bad..."

"I believe that sounds entirely too agreeable," he rumbled in reply. In truth, the climes of Hoth proved no benign mistress, even for a being insulated in blubber. Next began the long struggle of detaching the skis from his feet, an arduous process completed only after two successive falls. Slinging the poles and skis over one broad shoulder, Mobius shambled through the snow, following after the two humans. The sun reflected off his bald pate, blindingly radiant. He caught the tail end of a question on his approach. "Hoth: the unconquered, wild frontier. A sense of the untamed, hauum, excellently exploited by Star Tours."

"I'm here for the House of the Dying Sun," said Ajira quietly, for Spencer's ears only, "and to take a chunk out of their god. Apparently he can eat stars. Not sure if that's just cult rhetoric or if there actually is someone that strong hiding here." The disturbance had a familiar ring to it. She rather suspected that yet another Sith from the old days had come here, possibly for reasons similar to hers. The disturbance, if it was who she thought it was, probably wasn't related to her target.

She raised her voice as she turned and waited for the Herglic to catch up the rest of the way. "Star Tours picked a solid location, it's true. I wonder how they bent the First Order's ear so easily. Then again, I'm not sure they did their research. I spotted what looked like a Jedi temple on the other side of Mount Ison while making my approach, and of course there's the local Sith cult. Places like that tend to be troublesome for long-term investment."

[member="Spencer Varanin"] [member="Mobius"] D'ik