(no subject)

[ct_7567]

WHO: REX & Assorted
WHERE: Assorted.
WHEN: Assorted.
WHAT: Mostly just shoving some TDM threads over! That being said, I'm jazzed to play, so if you want anything, feel free to PM me or contact me on plurk, and I'd be delighted to set something up for you.
WARNINGS: None anticipated; will update if this changes!

Comments

ANDERSON

[ct_7567]

[ continued from HERE ]

Rex can't help but chuckle, shaking his head and running one hand over the rough blond bristle he calls hair. This is all senseless beyond reason, and try as he might, he can't seem to keep up with what's going on around him - and considering all that he's been through, that's saying something. But it's difficult not to like Anderson. Her crisp, curt attitude, straight to the point as it is, may be off-putting for some, but for Rex, it's a balm. If he had his way, this is how everyone would communicate.

If he had his way, the damn war would probably be over already due to each side's inability to lie, con, swindle and cheat the other.

"I could go for lunch." He takes one more bite of his sno-cone (and no, it's still bad) before giving up on it, lobbing it into the nearest trash can. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay away from the sweets."

[wronganswer]

It's about the only way Judges communicate, in absolutes. Anderson is definitely not rewarded for equivocating or respecting other peoples' feelings, and her being a compassionate human being despite all influences to the contrary is about the only thing that softens that.

Anderson quirks an amused look at him. "Had enough? Can't say I blame you." Her sno-cone follows his into the trash. It was a neat novelty, but... "Fresh food's a luxury commodity back home, so at least there's one big perk about being here." And she could imagine that might be true in space, too.

[ct_7567]

"It's a luxury for us too - and one we rarely get, unless some civvies are feeling particularly charitable," Rex says, eyes roving across the festival. "It's mainly rations for us."

Or that slop they serve at the barracks, though the slop may as well be rations as well - nutritionally dense, filled with enough calories to keep an entire army going, but there's little else to it beyond the caf they provide to keep the troops mollified. There's no point in feeding your soldiers well when you've suddenly got millions more mouths to feed, and they do it with more efficiency than they do with any sort of attention to quality of life. Rex isn't a particularly expressive man in neither his face nor his voice, but there's something covetuous in the way that he takes in the sights and the smells. Not only do they not tend to have a wide variety of food, but they tend not to go to any place where food is quite so plentiful, aside from their home base - where they tend to spend what small stipend they receive on booze. They are soldiers, after all.

Seeing a place aside from Coruscant so clearly healthy and full of life, untouched by the ravages of war, is unusual, but not unwelcome. It's an indication of what they're fighting for. "Can't say I recognize any of it. I may as well be picking at random."

And, striding forwards, it looks like that's precisely what he intends to do. They're bound to find something good eventually.

[wronganswer]

Anderson has been quietly amazed at her surroundings the whole time she's been here. The incredulity and horror over her backstory has started to get a little grating, but the tradeoff for all these soft, sheltered people is their soft, sheltered cities, full of cheerful people with blithe, asinine, everyday concerns and lush greenery lining the streets and luxurious food. Even the skyline is incredibly different from what she's used to: no towering megablocks and smog interfering with the uneven, haphazard city planning around her, just blue, the occasional roof, some clouds, the sun.

She really does feel like she's fallen asleep, sometimes. Similarly unexpressive, there's nonetheless her own subdued awe for the city around them as they wander down the street. Anderson's out of place, in an entirely different way than she's used to.

Her food situation at home isn't quite as dire as Rex's, but she wouldn't characterize it as exciting, either. "I at least know what a pig is," she notes aloud, an undercurrent of humor behind it. "You're really out of your depth, huh? Picking at random isn't a bad idea. I'm not picky."

Thus two overly armored space people attempt to Discover Earth Food.

[ct_7567]

"I'm going to assume that's one of the things we may be eating."

If nothing else, Rex is lucky to be magnificently open-minded about whatever he puts in his gob. Some brothers recoil at the prospect of eating any old beast off the land, but it's never much bothered him. Picking at random lands him with a burger, and luckily for them both there's a table nearby for them to sit at. He doesn't say much after his first bite, but the way his eyes light up indicates his delight.

Instead of commenting on the food, he takes a moment to look around before saying, quietly, "I hadn't expected this place to be so peaceful when I learned I had been brought here. It's more than peaceful - it's prosperous."

He had thought there had to have been a reason behind their being brought here, some sort of task that they were meant to do. It's a city at rest instead.

[wronganswer]

Anderson knows what burgers are but has definitely not had very many of them, so she has her own version of relishing the experience as she sits down with one at an outdoor table. It would be comical, the two of them in full armor eating burgers in public, except they're both so totally comfortable in it that it somehow looks normal instead.

She can definitely empathize with his quiet admission.

"It's disorienting. I know this is the same place, but it couldn't be more different from what I'm used to. I don't know if it's... sad, or encouraging. To see a place like this." It's what she's striving for, what she wants for the people around her, but having it just abruptly handed to her feels false and cheap and-- unreal.

[ashla]

[Just after this.]

It was Rex. She almost couldn't believe it! The problem was... he was so young from what she knew of him. Not that it would be a problem, but the last time she had seen him at this age they were saying good by over top his faked grave. Order 66 had gone off and she let Darth Maul escape in order to help Captain Rex. They made it away from the clone mess, faked their own deaths at each others hands, and... went their own ways.

When she ran into him with the Ghost Crew he was so much older, but still very Rex. She couldn't help but hug him. Now, this time, she'd have to try not to. After all, things were different for him now, right?

Not to mention she was more his height, much older looking and not at all the tiny 'Kid' he's remember. Hopefully it wouldn't take much convincing.

She pulled out a black hooded sweater she had from this place, pulling it up over her pointed head. There was no reason to go as a Human now. It was just Rex. It would be harder to explain if she showed up looking... wrong. So instead, hooded like a old Jedi's cloak, but zipped up front, she snuck off from her and Obi-wan's place, running down the block towards 011.

The Togruta wasn't dressed in her traditional attire, though it did match her old style. Leggings, boots and maroon colors under that black sweater. Good enough. Approaching the mans place, she slipped up to the door and knocked three times, stepping back far enough to be seen with out crowding the door.

She promised herself she wasn't going to hug him.

[ct_7567]

If Rex said that he wasn't pleased to know that the good Commander was here, he'd be a damn dirty liar. His first couple of days here had been passed in a whirl of confusion and indecision, confronted with the fact that when left to his own devices, he hadn't the faintest clue what he was supposed to do with his time aside from attend the frankly ludicrous assignment that this planet's government (a government that was sinking in his estimation by the hour, not that he was particularly disposed to like them in the first place) had seen fit to give him. With Ahsoka and the Generals here, however, he was certain that they must have found a task to set their minds to, or at least were hunting for a way to go back to where - and when - they belonged.

That aside, he liked Ahsoka - liked the men he considered to be his Generals too, of course, but he'd always have a special sort of connection with Ahsoka, having watched her grow into her own with alarming speed. He knew that she must have been from a point in their timeline further along than him, as odd a thought as it was, and later, would curse his own lack of foresight in not putting two and two together. With people here who apparently know him in the future, of course having her be significantly older was more than likely.

He wasn't expecting it anyway. Instead, his gaze was directed decidedly downwards as he opened the door, his small smile quickly dropping from his expression, only to be replaced with bewildered astonishment as he jerked his chin upwards, confronted with the odd sensation of being the same height as that familiar set of features set in an altogether different face.

"Ahsoka?"

[ashla]

That was the thing, she wasn't looking to go back. Not yet. Not when all these people from her past that she thought were dead were now alive. Maybe it was greedy, but she hoped time stopped back home for a while, just so she could enjoy the company of the dead for a while longer.

Her biggest job? Keep an eye on Anakin and make sure he doesn't turn out like he did back home. Let him and the others have a good life for a change. SOMETHING.

It did feel greedy, to a point. Wanting to stay here so she could enjoy time with people she can't anymore back home. Then again, after everything back home she liked to think that slight greed was... okay?

There was a slightly amused smile pulling at the corner of her lips as he went from low view to level view, face to face. He expected her to be younger, and goodness, seeing him face to face, even after seeing him on the video, was startling for her as well. No white beard, no wrinkles.

"Rex." She said, bowing her head a bit in a nod and greeting. Pulling her hands out of her sweater pockets, palms up and out a bit, as if to say 'ta da, it's me', she glanced down at herself. "Bet you never thought you'd see me as tall as you." She smiled back up to him, adding. "This is why I went with Text."

[ct_7567]

"I can't say I did," Rex said with nothing but honesty, clasping one hand over his mouth as he took her in. He realized for the first time that he never did expect to see her this grown up - partly because he didn't have a habit of thinking quite this far into the future, but also because he was aware of what a long, bloody thing war was. He had full faith in his Commander, certainly, but war made fools of even the most capable combatants. The chances of them both making it out of the other side had been slim.

He never thought of himself as an optimistic man - that sort of unchecked optimism could be an unwise thing - but seeing her now, he couldn't help the quiet fire of hope that if they both survived, that meant the war was over and won, and the Jedi were free to live the life of peace so many of them so clearly desperately craved. He didn't get far enough in that train of thought to consider what would become of him and his brothers before allowing his hand to drop by his side, shaking his head in disbelief and wonder, a smile touching his lips. "Unbelievable. Just a couple days ago, you were hardly up to my shoulder."

He stepped neatly aside. "Well, you'd better come in. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

The house itself was, of course, eminently familiar; all houses on this block are built identically, with the exact same floorpan and features set in each one. Having only been here for a couple of days and having been the only one living here, the house still looked pristine and wholly untouched, more of a show home than anything resembling a proper home.

[ashla]

Honestly, she didn't think she would make it far on her own when everything fell in around her and she left the Order. She didn't think she would get far on her own after Order 66 either, but somehow she kept moving, kept plugging along, from place to place, problem to problem. Until she ran into Bail Organa and started helping him with a Rebellion.

And now there is the fact that she's pretty sure she didn't survive facing Darth Vader. Anakin. That realization made her sick. There was no way for her to help her Master, was there. Except for here. Here it was different and if he can have a happy life, she will make sure of that.

She's also pretty sure Anakin will be glad to see Rex as well, though... there are things they might need to talk about, or warn him about. She knows sooner or later the whole Darth Vader thing is going to get out, but how will Rex deal with that?

All in due time. For now she just smiles at him at first. "And just a few days ago, for me, you had the whitest beard. Weirder things have happened." She said as she moved past him, coming into the still pristine unused home. Her and Obi-wan had kept their place relatively perfectly clean as well. Though her own personal room had gathered 'things'. Which she's not used to, but clothing is kind of nice.

She looked around a moment and smiled. It's like he didn't live here at all. She almost wanted to see if he'd just move in with her and Obi-wan, but then again he might want the privacy and chance to stay away from two force sensitive problems.

"You do have a lot to hear about, though it might be a bit ah, confusing at first."

[ct_7567]

"Finally gave up on shaving, eh?" Rex smiled, little more than an odd little twist of the mouth Ahsoka will remember from the past - it was far from the broader, easier grin of his old age, when he finally managed to settle into himself, grow into someone more person than soldier, staunch in his own opinions rather than what has been drilled into his head. Here and now, he was subtler, quieter. He rubbed absently at the stubble on his cheek before shutting the door, gesturing for her to follow him inside and into the kitchen.

It felt strange, seeing her, a woman grown and looking surer of herself than she ever did even as an overconfident youngling, but it was almost equally as strange to sit down with her in this domestic little space, as though they were simply old friends and not veterans of the same war, having spent all their time together in some variation of barracks and ships, metallic and cold. "Well, you'd better sit down. I'm willing to hear whatever it is you've got to tell me."

If nothing else, Ahsoka had what every other person attempting to tell him about his new reality lacked: his steady, unwavering trust. She couldn't have changed so much, even after so many years, and she would never lie to him without a damn good reason.

FOR RAY

[ct_7567]

[ Rex needs few things to get the lay of the land. He's admittedly had a hell of a time getting those few things (finding his brothers? no. finding a purpose? no. some semblance of orders? even with his generals and his commander present, an almost hysterically different task), but one thing he figures he can get is a place to train. A good few hours of accuracy training always does the trick for screwing his head back on.

He had even felt mildly optimistic until he arrived and saw a horrible, flimsy little display, and was told by the bearded man there that he was not welcome to use his DC-17s here. He had thought that fair enough until the man brought out a rental. By the time Ray arrives, he'll see Rex, turning a gun over in one hand and a few bullets in another, torn between looking perplexed and mildly horrified. ] This is what you use to shoot?

drops in post-tdm what up

[darkov]

[ some nights following THIS ]

These early days are full of a lot of things, and most of which is simply wandering. Sometimes he can remember where he was, sometimes he can't. All of it is strange and new and unsettling, no matter where he goes or what sticks to memory. There's things here that cast the most ominous shadows even in the dark -- sometimes especially in the dark, for this world coats the nighttime in brilliant, glaring lights. It makes the streets and the things in it take on alien shapes, which convulse and move as cars pass by, as people come and go, and even as Martin himself hastens along to avoid them.

Barely a dull moment, and that's quite a problem. He loses days to wandering 'til he's just on fumes, at the mercies of kinder people than himself. Even then, he hasn't learned, because the lesson he's supposed to learn isn't the one he's ready to accept: People shouldn't be wasting their time on something like him; he should be finding his own way...or none at all. And in that case...

Well, in any case, all those adventures and misadventures lead to the here and now: here, having weaseled through some fencing and shrubs to find secluded shelter, now giving up the quest for better lodgings by simply curling up in someone's back yard and giving up to sleep, like some stray dog having chased the memory of kindness back to the hand that fed it.

(Spoilers: It's Rex's place.)

it is my FAVOURITE ELLE

[ct_7567]

Here, alone in this big house, bigger than any place he's ever lived before, Rex has to get used to both the noise and the quiet. The snores of his brothers, the quiet buzz of a barracks that never quite sleeps, the thumping of footsteps have been suddenly replaced by the unwelcome buzz of traffic that had once been too far away for him to hear, the oddly loud wildlife, the audible creaks of the house settling. It puts his teeth on edge.

And then he hears a rustle from outside. Probably some critter, Rex tells himself, and successfully resists going outside to look at what it is for approximately a minute and a half before grabbing a flashlight and his blaster and creeping outside. He's dressed for sleep in his black undersuit (he technically has bought other clothing, but the loose greys remind him too much of time spent in the medbay) instead of his armour this time as he heads out, swinging his flashlight 'round until --

Oh. Oh no. Of course. "Martin?"

[darkov]

Martin dimly heard the footsteps coming, but he was convincing himself it was either false or too far away to affect him: he just. Really wanted to sleep and stop running, and maybe simply believing that he's not going to be uprooted again will make it true.

Not so.

The light glares through his eyelids and forces him to stir, squinting up. His eyes reflect it back like an animal's, but can't dilate to adjust or see much better, so the shape in front of him, calling his name, makes his overtired brain play one more trick in a last ditch effort for safety.

"...Grandfather?"

It's not that far-fetched a guess for the kid: Rex shares a similar build and demeanor. Not to mention the whole bald thing.

[ct_7567]

"I'm not quite that old yet, kid," Rex says, though in fairness, sometimes he feels that old. Age is but a number, and enough has been crammed into his short life to make it feel as though he's been alive for as long as he looks and more. More to the point, it's the way that the boy's eyes reflect the light that catch his interest.

Maybe he's not a human after all. Rex has known enough people who look mostly human not to judge based on appearances (and there are hybrids like Cut's children, of course, cute, blotchy little monsters that they are), but Martin had looked so wholly human that he hadn't considered Darkov to be more than a title. Maybe he was wrong.

Time will tell, he decides. His first priority is to figure out what the kriff this kid is sleeping in his backyard for. He takes a few steps forward and shifts his flashlight so it shines on his own face instead. "It's Rex. Remember me?"

[darkov]

Martin blinks a few times to clear the spots out of his vision, and a couple times more to take in the spooky form of a flashlit Rex.

Rex? Is that it? Martin shifts, pushing himself up by an elbow, grunting. The recollection floats up to mind slowly as he wonders, still staring dimly up at the soldier. The one who gave him a bed to sleep on. That's right. That huge, incredibly soft one, unlike anything he'd known before.

...That sounds really nice right about now, actually.

"Ye-yes," he utters, sitting upright and slowly getting his legs under him. "I'm--mmh. I'm sorry. I didn't know this was...that here is...here..."

[ct_7567]

"Well, you had to have some reason for coming here," Rex says, curiosity warring with exasperation and, if he was being honest with himself, no small amount of worry. But he doesn't have to be honest with himself and Cody's not here to bully him into it, so he simply writes it off as doing his duty when he takes two long strides forward and grabbing Martin by the crook of his elbow, helping him to his feet.

"And I'd better hear what that reason is. But not here. Come on, in," he says, shooing Martin back into the house. "We'll talk where it's warm. No point in freezing your tail off out here."

Has he been sleeping outside? Rex wonders, vaguely horrified. He's spent more than enough nights sleeping outside himself, but that was equipped with the right gear, with knowledge, a plan and a reason, not simply passing out in people's backyards. The boy's averted one kind of death only to court another.

ANDERSON... PART TWO OF THE LIV-ENING (subtitle: can't get enough of dat liv)

[ct_7567]

Once Rex had made an agreement with Anderson that she was to help him sort out the nebulous nature of his new powers, he made the executive decision to simply stop thinking about it until a later date. And, somehow, he had managed to be incredibly successful in this endeavor - between getting himself reacquainted with old friends and future allies, learning about the solar system he's found himself in and attempting to become apprised of everything he should know here, it was ridiculously easy to simply put it out of his mind.

Now that the day's arrived, however, Rex finds himself battling both curiosity and trepidation. To have an aberration like this, even labeled as a superpower, is unthinkable - but what is it like, to have that sort of power? He can't imagine.

With that in mind, he sits and waits. Anderson ought to be here shortly, which means he'll have his answer soon enough.

we have a problem and it's gen CR

[wronganswer]

For her part, Anderson isn't nervous or worried at all. She is curious. She's never done something like this before, and although it's well within her capabilities, it's the sort of benign, helpful application she almost never gets to use them for at home. It's an area she's confident in while also being new and interesting, a rare intersection.

She's out of her armor and in unremarkable civvies when she shows up, by now adjusted to her default of hiding her holstered Lawgiver under a sweatshirt. It would be irresponsible in the extreme for her to leave it anywhere, apart from her feeling like a walking target to go without her primary weapon. She offers a wisp of a smile when she sees him.

"Hey. You ready?" she asks without preamble.

WHAT A PROBLEM TO HAVE

[ct_7567]

"If I wasn't, I would have called it off by now," Rex says, welcoming her inside. He's in civvies now as well, in the drab shades of grey of someone unused to buying his own clothing and deigning to buy the plainest clothing available to him so he doesn't make a damn fool out of himself. Fashion is something he'll figure out later, he reckons, and is thus far finding it more of a nuisance than anything else; he'd live in his armour and his blacks if it was up to him, but it's been made clear to him that it makes others uncomfortable. Pity. He's terribly uncomfortable in civvies, and he can't help but want for the reassuring weight of his armour, and to do away with the unnecessary bits of fabric following him about.

How the Jedi fight in cloaks he'll never understand.

The house itself likely looks very much the same as Anderson's; he's treated having his own space as a curiosity to be wary of, and has therefore made the executive decision to leave it as clean and pristine as when he found it. It looks very much as though nobody's been here at all.

He plants his hands on his hips, eyeing Anderson curiously, wondering what exactly to expect. "All right. How exactly does this work?"

[wronganswer]

It's a fair point, but she'd still like to check one last time before performing experimental psychic procedures on someone who'd volunteered for it.

Anderson herself looks pretty drab and unremarkable, another displaced soldier unsure of casual wear, but she's more comfortable in her displacement than Rex is. She has the benefit of having chosen every step of her life, wherever it's led her, and it lends her a confidence in things out of her comfort zone, like now, as she steps into an apartment almost identical to her own in a tiny city in another dimension.

"Well, first, we should sit down. I'm not just going to muck around in your head. We can do this where I try to find it and then show you, or you can try to find it and I'll tell you warmer or colder."

[ct_7567]

Rex's lips quirk. "You know the drill better than I do. Come on."

He leads her over to the living room and takes a seat. Having the two of them here seems ludicrous in a funny sort of way; the both of them used to lives far different from this one, soldiers dressed up as civilians sitting in his living room as though having a nice cup of tea instead of his having invited her over to poke around in his brain to see if he can spontaneously manifest clones of himself.

Even for Rex, this is weird. "It might be better for you to try finding it first. I'm certainly willing to try to find it, but I haven't the first clue about how one goes about doing that."

[wronganswer]

It's incongruous, that's for sure; and anachronistic in its own way. Funnily enough, the weirdest part of this is the bit that's most familiar to her. Anderson sits and then hunches forward, elbows on her knees, looking intent. She's a professional and she's used to being a professional psychic, no mysticism about it whatsoever, and it shows.

"Alright. Remember what I said about it being like a muscle," she cautions. "There's not going to be a blaring switch anywhere. Or I'll be really surprised if there is. I'm going to start now. Try not to think of anything you don't want me to know."

Her lips quirk as if to acknowledge how impossible she knows that is, but still, she thought she'd warn him. Thoughts for her are flashes of image and feeling and sound, as intangible and ill-defined as real thoughts are, but for deeper work like this Anderson has to go in herself, and she closes her eyes.

Anderson is deft, as delicate and light a touch as a whisper, and it's almost like flipping a switch as the apartment around them abruptly vanishes and in its place is an undefined expanse. The first step inside someone's head is always an empty space as she acclimates herself. It appears as if the two of them are just standing there, dressed normally, Anderson in the clothes she'd just been wearing but Rex however he mentally sees himself, his thoughts a distant background playing around them on silent. She's keeping them at arm's length for now.

"Welcome to your mind. It's usually easier for people to conceptualize what's going on if I keep things like this for a second."