Private Naboo: The Vault of Memory

[Luca Ioneşti]

Leaving Obsidian Headquarters
Theed, Naboo
1800hrs
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Two days after the Coronation
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If he were a man of any sort of faith, he would claim that some god or goddess were toying with him.

As it was, Luca had enough on his mind to work through, but there had to be one more. There was always something else, always, and there were days still that the past, the relatively recent past came to haunt him, as it doubtless did for so many of the Order. Duty was a clear distraction from such thoughts, thoughts that became heavier with the decision to quit a longstanding habit, the oral habit that calmed, but that calm came at a cost in so many ways. There was always something, something more, and at first, this wasn't clear: a burning in the back of his mind at the very sight of her, the day of the Coronation of Queen Liviana, that set his mind spinning, an obvious recognition without context... until he woke up in a cold sweat, to some form of abject apprehension, two days later, and the memories all came flooding back in, as did old, buried regret, and he swore. Profusely.

It had been some years, long, long years since he was that boy, and as he left his duties for the day, the full brunt of these thoughts came rushing back to the fore, to greet him as he walked the streets, meandering his way to... the flat he barely occupied, but for sleep? A tavern, where he had drowned himself in the early wake of the Cataclysm? The cool evening air was easier breathing, and the slowly waning full moon of two nights' past ascending in opposite of the sun had gone from the silent companion to his many solitary evenings, to a reminder that there was a woman in this city walking around like not a day had passed in the more than a decade since, except for... well. Ahem. Or had he been hallucinating? Was he losing his mind? Because not a trace of her was anywhere to be found, with as little time as he'd had to go looking.

It was maddening.

"For feck sakes," he swore, at himself more than anything, as he put further distance between himself and the headquarters. To think that he'd forgotten. Worse, to think that she hadn't after twelve years, after he had cut the string that bound his young heart to that time and place, out of necessity, and without notice. How long could anyone hold on to how that might feel? He tried to think over the flash of her expression... fingers raking into his hair, curling, nails scrubbing in a physical expression of the frustration that sounded out with it, "this can't be happening!" Luca threw his arms down, and cast his gaze to the sky.

He needed a smoke... no. No. A drink. Rubbing hands over his face, Luca continued on, beating the path to the nearest tavern, perhaps to drown his memory.

Mirjana Kolar

 

[Mirjana Kolar]

Location: Streets of Theed
Wearing: [xXx]
Tag: | Luca Ioneşti |

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The move to Naboo had been necessity, and nothing more. An ailing parent who refused to allow their child to stay was a powerful being when they needed and wanted to be. There had not been much time to find a place, or a means to provide for herself, or anything else of the sort, but Mirjana had managed to do both. It was frustrating at times, to get by merely on her appearance alone, but in a time where she had not choice but to sink or swim? A modeling job had been a Godsend. The flat she had procured was small, had no flair or touch of her own personal style to it yet, but it would once she began to settle. If she ever settled.

One thing Jana could say about her new home however, was that these people of Naboo knew how to throw a party. She had of course attended the Coronation of the new Queen, and the festivities there after. Being new to the city, she had wanted to experience all it had to offer, especially entertainment wise. She had witnessed the Queen's progression to the temple of Shiraya, had built herself a lantern - admittedly with quite a bit of help, and she had sampled quite a few foods that she of course was still working off.

And while she had not had a clue what to expect in this newfound life of hers in Theed, the very last thing Mirjana had ever expected...was to come across him.

At first, she had not been sure of what she had been seeing. She had heard the commotion of the tournament and had been drawn to the excitement of the crowd. Finding the pair dueling inside had riled old memories, but at first Jana had been convinced she was simply seeing things. But the more she watched, the more familiar some of the things she witnessed became. Enough so that she had pushed her way to the forefront of the crowd to get a better look, so that she could be sure of what she was seeing. And then when the match was over, and he had looked directly at her? Jana was hit with a flood of adolescent memories and emotions that she had long since buried up until that point.

But she hadn't lingered, and she didn't approach him either. Too much had been going on, and admittedly she hadn't been certain that she even wanted to open that door up again. It had been years since the pair of them had even contacted one another, much less physically seen each other. So she had left, and gone home, and then had made herself quite scarce for a couple of days afterwards. Unfortunately for her, memories didn't just shut themselves off the way she wanted them to, and the desire for closure, the need for an explanation eventually won out.

And so she had taken to the streets, and for the most part of the day came up empty handed. Of course it wouldn't be easy, Theed wasn't exactly small. Add that to the fact that surely he had a job of his own, and that just added to the steady wasting of Jana's day. No, it wasn't until she had given up for the day and was headed back home that fate seemed to throw her a bone and steer her in the right direction. There had been a ruckus down the street not too far from her, outside of the tavern that could be found there. The noise had drawn her attention, but was not what kept it. Her gaze had skimmed across familiarity and then tracked back again quickly to it.

There he was, and seemed to be heading towards that very tavern. Jana shook her head and while part of her just wanted to turn around and keep walking her happy self home, she didn't. Instead she took a deep breath and exhaled it with a sharp: "Hey!" It would surely get the attention of more than just him, but Mirjana knew that his would be the only attention she kept once he spotted her.

 

[Luca Ioneşti]

Location: Streets of Theed
Tag: Mirjana Kolar

Replacing a craving with drink was hardly the wisest of ideas, but the decision to remove that coping mechanism without drawing a line to a replacement… it was less of a decision, more of an impulse. Oh, the things the stirring of the heart could make a man do; locking it away did little to make the stirring cease, resolving to never speak of it unless it should ever be right did not ease his days. But ease was never a certain thing in life. Life made sure of that.

"Hey!"

The sharp invocation, the statement of her presence in reality stopped Luca in his tracks, pulling him out of himself; head, eyes, snapped up to anchor on the entirety of her petite form, as wheels turned… face, to name, to memory. A sharp intake of breath, the faint knit of dark brow. Memories. Memories he had been decidedly ready to drown, scant moments before, the happiness those days of his youth held, stolen by circumstance, twisted by years and reasoning. A lesson, taken to heart: Don’t get too close.

"..."

His stone-blue gaze skirting away with the sharp reel of thought. A lesson that had only gotten harder to keep, these past many months. A lesson that he wondered time and time again in those months, if, perhaps, he had interpreted all wrong, but it was just as hard to change a way of being, of thinking, even if the wall had formed cracks, even if the corners had begun to crumble.

“...Jana?”

So, he hadn't been seeing things. The speaking of her name, as if doing so would cast a terrible spell on his restraint, came quiet, hoarse, strained. Eyes slipped back to her, fixed on her, mind reconciling the woman before him with the girl he once knew, a barrier slamming against the flood of what had been, the sight of her threatening to pull it all loose. He swallowed, his jaw set.

“It's... been a while.”

 

[Mirjana Kolar]

Location: Streets of Theed
Tag: | Luca Ioneşti |

--------------

Whatever Mirjana had expected when he turned around to face her, it had not been what she was faced with. The years had very clearly changed them both; not so much so physically (though the pair of them had clearly grown up), but emotionally for certain. Jana could not only see the emotional strain on the man now stood facing her, but she could damn near feel it too. Empathy was something she had no control over, but was at least good at hiding her own reactions to.

Still, she had not been as prepared for him to turn around and face her as she had thought she was. Maybe this had been a very bad idea; she should have let him keep walking and just let this remain unfinished. There was an immediate, emotional roiling of protest. One that was laced with something else, something familiar that Jana tried quickly to bury again.

Her mouth opened to speak once, then twice, but paused both times. Eventually her brow creased, a slow pull until they nearly met in the middle and her lips pursed for a short moment. "It has been," she finally settled on to start with. "And what's worse? I don't even know what to call you." Yes, he had come clean in his writings to her, but that had perhaps been the last letter she had ever gotten from him. Before that he had been someone else entirely, at least to her. So it made sense for her to be confused on the matter, but no less frustrated by it.

Anything else she could, or would have said remained lodged in her throat. Until she had an answer to her statement, there really was not even a whole lot of point in conversing with him any further. She would not start her process for closure swallowing more lies.

 

[Luca Ioneşti]

Location: Streets of Theed
Tags: Mirjana Kolar

He would have had less trouble reining in what her presence in his proximity brought up, if it was the only thing clamouring to gnaw at his heart, his soul, his mind, but the addition of long-buried moments and words on top of everything else only intensified their impact. To wit, he was not in the best frame of mind to take this quite as well as he otherwise might. He struggled, and had to choose his words carefully, tread his thoughts cautiously, as there was more, far more to consider than just him or her. He had a responsibility to comport himself appropriately, even in his personal time. He willed his expression into something far less representative of his inner world, not quite neutral, and certainly not cold; for all his experience at walling himself off, he was finding that very thing rather difficult to do. And warmth, as he had come to learn, was often a better option. As was honesty.

"Many," he began, slipping his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers, a uniform in the same style as the Royal Guard, but coloured to signify his link to the Knights Obsidian: Ebony Knights, as they were called, "in this place call me Master Ioneşti."

The tail-end of his dark, midweight standard overcoat, detailed in stitching and symbolism with Obsidian purple, fluttered, teased by a light breeze. The Nabooian people sure loved their displays of status, and though the unfamiliar style of dress caused some initial discomfort, he would be lying to himself if he ever said he didn't like how it made him look. It was growing on him, like a few things had, on Naboo.

"But my father, blacksmith by trade, named me Luca, after a man of Vandorian folklore."

His lips bent a slight curve, but his brow creased. This was all too much, and his head turned, hand to eyes as his breath hitched, then grasping at the bridge of his nose, while his breathing resettled, and he was still for some moments.

"I..." the hand fell away, and his gaze, his face went skyward with exhalation, "...I'm sorry, Jana," his eyes, his face turned toward her, further words stalled by her beauty, striking him with an intensity that it hadn't in the minutes prior; had it taken hold of him so, once before? "but" regardless, his present turmoil needed the edges softened, lest he came apart, "this would be better done over a drink. Join me?"

 

[Mirjana Kolar]

Tag: | Luca Ioneşti |

---------------

Not so surprisingly, the response that Mirjana had gotten to her question - or accusation rather - was not really answered. Not at first at least, and Jana had been ready to state that very fact. But it hadn't come to that, and when she had gotten a name rather than a title, the young woman sighed slowly through her nose and lifted a hand to rake her fingers through her hair. There had been a twist in her stomach, a knot formed almost as soon as the name had left his mouth. Of course she had known he wasn't who he had originally told her that he was when they were younger, but to be here now and to hear it first hand?

She had to take a second steadying breath and sigh it out once again.

Whatever it was that she had expected, this was certainly not it. Her bravado had dampened, and the wind had been removed from her sails. Rather suddenly all Jana wanted to do was go home and just go back to avoiding the streets - and Luca by default - all over again. But that wasn't going to solve anything for either of them. Hiding would not get her the closure that she both wanted and needed.

It was a difficult situation for a plethora of reasons, but the harshest of them all was the fact that Mirjana had never lied to him. Yes, they had been adolescent, it had been years ago, but she had never been anything but straightforward with him. And now here they were, and she had already gotten face to face confirmation that he had indeed done nothing but lie to her. It was unsettling and upsetting.

"Yeah," she sighed out at him, and her feet carried her towards the building before she could really even think about it or stop herself. "I could most definitely use a drink right now...maybe more." she mumbled the last bit, but was fairly certain it would be heard. Though in this situation, who could blame her?

 

[Luca Ioneşti]

Tag: Mirjana Kolar

The way she deflated, the dejected tone of her words, was a knife. For all the memory her presence evoked, it also renewed unresolved, dormant guilt. He had been honest about the deception all those years ago, but had not tried to open the door again to further make amends when the circumstances, the reasons for closing the door in the first place had resolved; for that, he had no sufficient explanation. A personal failing, if anything... had he been afraid? If so, of what? He loosed a steadying breath in the final paces toward the tavern, and pulled the door open with about the same enthusiasm she had just expressed: that is, he almost hesitated, but this had to be done. Holding the door open, Luca waited for her to pass through, then followed her in, the door whispering shut behind him, closing them in with the cacophony of conversation and clinking glass.

The barkeep spoke up almost immediately, throwing a jovial 'Hey!' that drew a sharp glance from the Ebony Master, on account of the teasing notes to Emmet's greeting. Yes, he had come in on the heels of a woman, and no, it wasn't a topic for discussion. Emmet's uplifted arm lowered, the man taken down a few pegs, but a scant moment was all it took for him to move on.

"The stout, then?" Almost a formality to even ask, by now, but Emmet liked to give the benefit of the doubt. The addition of Vandorian alcohols amongst Naboo's typical offerings turned out to be good business on both ends of the arrangement, and a necessary one, once he no longer roomed at the headquarters and had a place of his own, though it hardly looked lived in, "Yeah," it wasn't that he didn't drink anything else, nor that he didn't like anything else, but it was a piece of home and a comfort, a reminder of joy, trial, tribulation, loss... pain, but it wasn't his way to want to forget, even if he had buried what now filled his thoughts, "A pitcher, though."

Emmet's brows lifted just a tad, "Alright, Master Io," and he turned his lightly unkempt self to fix on Jana, as Luca half-turned, first looking to her, then towards the back of the tavern, "And what will the lovely lady be having?", Emmet asked, when the Vandorian discovered that the table he wanted was vacant, and looked to Emmet again, cutting in while Jana made a decision, "Usual table, Em?" he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of a table in the corner, the barkeep making an affirmative face, before looking back to the petite woman again.

He had no idea, himself, what her tastes were; even memory couldn't serve him there. No, those days had been sober, clear as ice, sweet as honey, simple as the change of seasons. Far less burdened in mind and responsibility. A façade... but it hadn't all been false. He owed it to her to shed a little light.

 

[Mirjana Kolar]

Tag: | Luca Ioneşti |

---

There had been a moment where questioning herself had nearly stopped Mirjana in her tracks. It was that same moment where her current companion had hesitated at the door, the same fleeting breadth of a moment where she questioned what she was doing and why she was even here. And yet Jana had no answer. Nothing that she hadn't already thought about, or anything new that had come to light since she had made the decision to come here in the first place. So once the door was opened, she at least flashed Luca a hint of a thankful smile and then stepped through the threshold and into the tavern. Her feet had stopped with only enough room for the both of them to fit for the first moment or two, and then she had skillfully stepped to the side when it seemed the male behind her was well known.

That caused a curious look from Jana, but she didn't question it, not yet at least. For now, conversations that were to be had between the two of them wouldn't be so casual. This wasn't about the pair of them catching up, or enjoying a merry time over a drink or two. This was about closure, about getting answers to questions that had plagued the young woman since the last days of her adolescence. To have then continued to grow, questioning herself and what there could possibly be wrong with her, had impacted her social life - especially the romantic part of it - for years afterwards. So this conversation, as painful as she was sure it would be, needed to happen.

But she was being addressed, and a soft sound vibrated Mirjana's vocal chords before she answered, "Uh, Blumfruit cooler?" she requested, though knew it was something that wasn't always easy to come by considering it's origin. "If not, then I guess my friend here will just have to share his pitcher." she offered a much easier smile to this barkeep than she had to Luca, and then she followed in said companion's wake to the table of choice.

Jana sat with her back to the wall, which was fairly easy to do considering the location of the table. Her eyes scanned the area once, and then her gaze settled on Luca. She had leaned herself against the table, arms atop of it to support her weight, and her hands clasped together in front of her. For the moment she said nothing and just watched him with an expectant look on her face. He was the one with explaining to do after all, not her.