Technical Difficulties

[Kaane]

BROADCAST INITIALIZING
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...
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BROADCAST ONLINE

Hello mates, Slars here with a lil' update. Should be back to my regular broadcasting schedule within a few days, I've been a bit busy with external matters as of late. I know my staff's been doin' hard work, and if any of 'em are watching right now, I'd like to congratulate 'em on a job well done.

Now, however, we gotta move on to serious business...a friendly reminder, if you will, from yours truly. The Force ain't goin anywhere, and believe me, you all ain't goin nowhere while it ain't goin nowhere. All of ye've gotta remember, the Jedi aren't going to make your lives better by saving a scant few souls in a galaxy of millions, if anything, they're makin' you all lax. The only reason they exist is to make you feel better about your own miserable existence, right, they don't actually care about what the hell you're doin' to make a livin', they don't care if you're livin' paycheck to paycheck, and the fact that they're all sittin' around meditating in temples while the galaxy is falling to pieces just proves this point more than ever. Stay strong lads, and start fighting for yourselves instead of waitin' for others to fight for ya, trust me, I've tried it, don't work well at all. And if you happen to find yourself growin Force powers overnight or hearing things talking in your head that shouldn't be there, my group's already workin' on opening up midichlorian removal stations round the galaxy. Mark my words, by the end of this campaign, ain't no one gonna have to deal with this abomination again. We're all gonna be forced to finally work together to make things happen instead of relying on some supernatural bullshit power source to subordinate ourselves under. Just remember: the stand against the Midichlorian Collective, for your freedom, begins and ends with you, YOU, have the power, not these demigod jackasses tryna tell you how to live your life.

Anyways, seeing as our main studio's just been hit with a blackout, likely from the bloody Imperials or some Mandos that didn't like how I treated their Duke of Ordo, I'm gonna hit you with a little news update. Ahem...oh, holy hell...well, to begin with, you guessed it, more Force-related bantha fodder and breaking news from a planet in neutral territory of all places. On Sullust, a rampaging group of Sith and Jedi are currently dueling in SoroSuub corporation territory, the two opposing parties already having killed a few dozen natives with little more than what seems to be pyrokinetics and a little bloodlust. I'll keep you updated but it seems like despite the impending arrival of local law enforcement, this ungodly feud isn't stopping any time soon. Next up, the brutal televised executions of POWs on Korriban are continuing, much to the chagrin of nearly every single damned sentient rights advocate in the galaxy, including this one, but to anyone actually bloody paying attention, this should be no surprise...oh, and the Jedi Gungan Death Cult is still a thing apparently, as numerous corpses have been turned up bearing their signature mark on Coruscant. Once again, we'll keep you posted as new stories develop...

Deep in neutral space on board the Asylum, Slars is casually using up at least 3/4s of its Holonet upload data, much to the chagrin of everyone else on board...and a select few that have the misfortune of their broadcasters being way too close to his.

 

[Retroboy]

Hareth had settled into her bed, her holoscreen set up in front of her. She had a bag of cheese snacks ready with her and a few cans of pop so she wouldn't have to get up if she got thirsty again. She was dressed comfortably in her pajamas, and she sat atop a throne of pillows. This was the time of the week she lived for, the one she had a screaming match with Bria over to get her a guaranteed day off. Just for this. Many Rodias to Travel. A soap opera to beat all other soap operas, about the rogueish Rodian, Amboo, drawn away from a life of crime to try and settle down in the frontiers of Corellia with his human lover Marla Mayne. Hareth had many shows she liked, but this one was the one she could not ever afford to miss.

The theme song played, and Hareth relaxed into her seat, a serene smile on her face. Those that knew her would claim that this was the only time she was guaranteed not to be a terror, because she was lost in another world where love was king and Corellia was still not entirely tamed. Others would say the fact that she had a near encyclopedic knowledge of the series was in fact a little bit spooky considering she had only started watching the show in the few months she had come to live aboard the Asylum, but they just didn't understand her devotion. She posted on fan-sites, got into lengthy debates and participated in shipping wars. Hell, she had even written some stories about it. She genuinely loved the show, was that so wrong? With everything else in her life being so difficult, why couldn't she just have something that was constant?

The scene is set on Amboo's front deck. He's cleaning his blaster, eyes out on the prairie as the tall golden grasses sway in the wind Marla's sister Katie, a two-timing conniving sort, shows up looking distraught, speeding through the grass like she is being chased by an axe-killer.

"Amboo!" she cries. "Something terrible has happened!"

Amboo stands quickly, looking alarmed. "What is it? What's happened?"

"It's your sister! She's being held hostage! Come quickly and bring your blaster!"

Hareth marveled, wondering what Katie's angle was. The woman never played things straight, and had coveted Amboo's recently acquired gold rights and would do anything to gain them. She wondered if this was somehow another ploy. More importantly, Hareth wanted to know that Marla was okay. Amboo would be crushed if she was hurt. Sad Amboo was almost impossible to bear, he was so sweet.

Amboo speeds through the grass, taking his speeder bike. Amboo would waste no time in saving his love. He sped down the grass, before it cut to Marla and her half-brother, Davinport.

"Oh, brother," Marla says. "It's been so long since I've seen you. All those years in the Grand Army haven't changed you a bit, though."

She smiles softly. Davinport returns the smile, his blue eyes twinkling. "Oh, I've changed a little bit," he says. She raises an eyebrow.

"How is that?"

He grins, and then wraps his arms around her. "I've gotten so much better at tickle fights! AAAA!" The two begin to flail as Marla laughs helplessly, begging him to let her go. She keeps calling for him to stop, but she is clearly enjoying it. Unfortunately, Amboo arrives at that moment. He hasn't met Davinport before. He calls for Davinport to unhand her, but Davinport simply looks at him, shocked. In a rush of adrenaline, Amboo shoots him.

Marla shrieks in horror. "Davinport!" she says, moving beside her brother. She goes to feel his pulse, and then looks up at Amboo, with a mixture of hatred and sorrow in her eyes. "He's dead! My brother is dead, and you killed him, Amboo! I hate you!"

Amboo is in shock. "No, what, Marla, I was tricked! Your sister said you were being held host--"

BRRRRRZZZZZzZZZZZZZzzzT

For a brief moment, the Holoscreen was consumed with interference. Hareth shrieked in despair, flailing at the screen to try and get it to work again. Then, suddenly, the broadcast came back online. Hareth was ready to relax, except for the fact that her show was now replaced with some sort of lizard. She knew it wasn't Many Rodias to Travel because the last Trandoshan character on the show had died over a season ago in a tragic speeder accident after his actor wanted more money. She looked at this broadcast, the rage mounting inside her as she wondered why the terrible salamander had replaced her precious Amboo.

At first, she was ready to merely be angry. But then the Trandoshan kept speaking, talking about how the Force was evil, and something inside her clicked. She knew who this was. This was one of Bria's little propagandists. Moreover, she knew the backdrop. This was on the Asylum. Anger quickly transformed into seething hot fury, the kind that pushed her powers to their absolute limit. Her body boiled with loathing and rage. She knew now she had to right this wrong or this terrible, revolting reptile would think it was okay to go ahead and interrupt Hareth's showtime. That simply would not do.

She rapidly changed out of her pajamas, throwing on her robes and making sure to clip on her lightsaber. All around her, the cans of soda she had began to explode with the energy of the Force, and the little cup she had brought to her room shattered. The lights above her also cracked. She stormed out into the hallway, moving forward at a deliberate pace. As she did, every light above her exploded in a shower of sparks. Mercifully, she knew where she was going, and it wasn't that far. She would soon be at the place of her target to enact her most terrible vengeance. She came to a door with a sign that said "quiet please", which she promptly tore open with push from the Force, breaking the closing mechanism. She pushed into the room.

Immediately, the lens on Slars' camera began to crack.

"YOU INTERRUPTED MY SHOWWWWWWWW" Hareth howled, her light saber extending from its hilt and bathing the room in a red glow.

 

[Jabonicus]

The Medical Ward of the Asylum wasn't some grand, top of the line facility, but it was more than capable of doing whatever the crew needed. Houses office was her own little asylum, in a way. Medium sized, had an adjustable examination table in the middle, and more than enough room to move about in her comfortable swivel chair, that allowed her to roll about the floor with ease. A computer had been put on the desk, facing a wall, away from what any incoming people or active patients could see. Even though her privacy was typically kept, it rarely was left on anything irrelevant while doing official business. A monitor had been set up on the wall, adjusted so it displayed holonet shows.

So she sat there, rolling from one side of the room to the other. Her soft hands clothed in latex gloves as she sorted boxes of medical tools, the volume of the broadcast kept up as she listened with split attention. The show itself was marvelous, a romantic drama surrounding the tale of two Galactic Empires, the princess of one and her attempts at love, yet being torn away by the needs of the Empire and the political ploys of the opposing. She was entranced with the show, absolutely in love with the main character, invested in her relationships. After all, what other show had a strong female character, who was still sensitive, without being overly pushed into either a masculine or feminine roles?

"Lieutenant, you know as well as I do that I'm on camera the moment I'm outside. Possibly even when I'm just near windows. The chance of me living my life like anyone else is slim." The princess stated as she clicked a button, the blinds shutting with a brief noise. The room, now isolated from the outside, held only the duo. "And you know that if news of even the smallest thing between us reached the ears of the Valorians..." The look she gave the military unit said more than enough to finish the sentence. It wasn't one of disgust, nor contempt, it was one of worry.

"With all due respect, Ma'am, you're more than equipped to deal with anything they could possibly throw at you. And if it's more?" The woman in the gilded armor stepped forward, hands open, olive skin glistening as her one remaining, glistening green eye looked upon Akysa with a level of affection that could be felt through the screen. The darkly colored cloth covering Akysa's skin shifted, as she warily stepped forwar-

The feed suddenly shifted, as if there was interruption. It returned for just a moment, before vanishing into static once again. House was left in the silence and white-noise, a look of confusion, betrayal, even hatred as a voice soon broke through the static. "Hello mates, Slars here with a lil' update. Should be back to my regular broadcasting schedule within a few days, I've been a bit busy with external matters as of late. I know my staff's been doin' hard work, and if any of 'em are watching right now, I'd like to congratulate 'em on a job well done...."

She didn't hear the rest. Only the rancorous copy of her laughter that stayed in the room as she stormed out into the hall, labcoat furiously flapping behind her. She didn't know her way around all too well, but she knew where the man did his transmissions. That was all she needed. By the time she arrived, however, someone appeared to have beaten her to the punch. Slowing, and then stopping altogether, House was met with the back of a rather intimidating woman, screeching as she held the glow plasma-blade that lit the room with a crimson hue.

...Maybe this wasn't a good idea.​

 

[Kaane]

"I swear, these people have no clue what they're doing, and because of it, nearly every fish and amphibian in the entire river is probably about to start a damn orgy, you don't just dump concentrated Zeltron hormones places without disposing of it properly! I mean what the hell are these people doing over at WyTech, you'd think with all the PhD's and medical doctorates working for them, they'd have a better kriffing solution, then just dumping lust punch into the drinking supply without a single freaking regard for anyone who decided to walk out the door today without having to deal with someone cheekily asking if they're happy to see 'em! THEY JUST WENT AHEAD AND POISONED THE WATER HOLE, AND I SEEM TO BE THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A BANTHA'S ASS ABOUT IT!"

"Now, ahem, back to our regularly scheduled programm-"

Slars turned his head as soon as he heard the door blow open behind him, landing squarely at the other end of the room. And he soon wished he hadn't.

The entire room began to rattle and shake, the Trandoshan's paperwork and belongings fluttering and shuddering under the horrid red glow of something he both hated and feared. A midget of some kind, wielding a lightsaber with a wicked hum, and a voice that somehow managed to sound booming and threatening despite tickling the highest vocal register a normal person should manage.

YOU INTERRUPTED MY SHOWWWWWWWW!

Oh no. The Sith had finally come to him at last, to end him. This was it, all he'd worked for, going down the drain. He didn't even register the fact that the camera was still on despite its cracked lens as he practically jumped out of his chair, pushing his back toward the opposite wall. "I'll give you whatever you want alright, just put that bloody thing away, alright, we don'ave to get all like this now, I mean c'mon, surely, we can discuss this like rational gentlemen...gentleman and lady...thing...whatever you may be...small...creature thing I mean amazing, AMAZING Sith dude!"

But then, a glimmer of hope; a member of GALAF Slars had heard of, one of the doctors from the medbay. She had the drop on this foul creature...together, they'd vanquish a Sith live. His life saved, and his ratings rocketing sky high...he knew exactly what to do.

He withdrew from his belt's scabbard his personal electroblade, sparking its electromagnetic field to life as he pointed it at the Sith with as much false bravado as he could muster, reciting one of his favorite lines of epic Dosh poetry to bolster himself: "A Hellish being, to vanquish this day, nebulae all-seeing, guide my blade's way!"

The reptile would then jerk his head a few times, beckoning House to actually kill this kriff while she was still obviously stunned in awe of the immense power wielded behind Slars' courage.

Because really, he was just a super courageous guy.

 

[Retroboy]

Hareth's eye twitched, the rage illuminated on her face by her light saber. Her show, her one freaking joy in life. The one thing she could consistently count on. She didn't have family, she didn't have friends, she had her show and that was it. This horrible lizard had taken that from her. Now she would have to wait a whole week to know what had happened to Amboo and Marla, and who knows what could happen in the space of that time? It was an hour long show! She was only five minutes in! SO MUCH COULD GO WRONG! If anything else big happened to Hareth missed it, she could never forgive this skink.

And then he drew a weapon on her and called her the magic word. If she was mad before, now she was consumed by all burning hatred. Red clouded her vision and she lost all sense of what she was doing. Now, the only thing that mattered was punishing the lizard that had taken what was important to her.

The Force radiated out of her, igniting Slars' camera in a fiery blast. The sparks flew from the camera onto his papers, igniting those as well and spreading the flame to his desk. Hareth didn't care as smoke began to fill into the room, gripping her light saber tightly. She reached out with the Force, using it to pull Slars forward. Using this much of her power might make her tired if she weren't so full of hate-fuel. The yank was potent enough to bring the Trandoshan across the room, close to her.

"I AM NOT SITH!" she roared, directly into his face. "You interrupted Many Rodias to Travel! HOW COULD YOU?! NOW I WON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO AMBOO!"

Tears stung her eyes.

"I don't have a lot, okay?! I have... a bed, and I have my shows, and you had to come along and..." she said, her voice cracking. "Override it with your stupid made up malarky about MIDI files or something. No one wants to watch your dumb show. I don't wanna watch your dumb show. I want my show back!"

 

[Jabonicus]

To call House scared as the situation escalated would be an understatement. In all reality she was terrified. Just passed the banshee woman was the Trandoshan making the broadcast. As she came into view, he fumbled over words and pulled a sword on her, eyes meeting hers as he gave the obvious twitches of the head that yelled 'Do something please I don't want to die.' It was something she was experiencing as well. Issue was, she had exactly zero items that could be used as weapons, and zero experience using such a thing anyway.

That's when the Trandoshan was pulled, snatched by the air itself with a fury. She was frozen, knowing that morally she had to do something while in reality she was incapable of throwing so much as a decent punch. Even if she could, the person she was supposed to stop had a lightsaber. Words began to flow from Hareth, hateful ones, spiteful, vengeful even. All accusing him of- The same thing she was here for. Now, she considered herself angry about the situation but this? This event had escalated far too much for it to simply be about the show. The tone of the woman, the voice, the cracks and inconsistency.

That's when it came to her. She had read over the existing medical profiles of the more notable members of the group, and among them, Hareth was the one that fit the description. Short, female, seemingly young, and a force user. While the descriptions and comments were brief, and not very direct, she had gained a vague idea of the woman's position. Given a great power, both a positive thing and a con. Hard to deal with on its own, but paired with a lack of friends, a lack of familial connections, there was no outlet.

No outlet.

This wasn't a stint about the show. It was a breaking point, the point where a ship with holes finally sinks, where a crack in ice quickly shudders to the next. This was an outlet for so much that had built up. Screaming into your pillow could only do so much, after all. At a point, you have to face that your very species is a social one, and to deprive yourself of it was to cast illness upon yourself. So House did the most courageous thing possible, given the situation. Stepping forward, her comfortable shoes quiet on the smooth floor (especially when compared to the screaming) as she neared the dark-clothed girl. How young was this one? Eighteen? Nineteen? Too young for this. Much too young.

Feet between them turned to inches, and her hands stretched forward. She's going to kill you. You're going to die, because this was your plan. She knew that to act too fast would be to mimic an assault, so even while her presence became apparent she moved slowly. Arms wrapped themselves around Hareth, above her belly, below her chest, under her arms. Pinning the arms would spoil the intention. Her own body moved closer, pushing against the girl with a constant, soft force. There was no armor, no hard plating or spiky defense on House. Not even an inch of clothing between House and anything else. Her eyes remained open, breath still as she embraced the girl from behind- In a hug.​

 

[Kaane]

Whatever front of bravery he managed to muster was utterly decimated as he was pulled rather hard towards the angry woman still brandishing her weapon. Now he was too afraid to even beg for his life; his torso was undefended within her unyielding grip, he was already dead. His life flashed before his eyes in short bursts, the sum of everything he worked for, that he realized, would come to naught. His first job at the DBF, college...and then his childhood...his father, his brothers, the...not that, anything but that again, anything...

Outwardly he was being reduced to silent tears; until he was ripped out from his reverie by a massive shout being blasted in his face:

I AM NOT A SITH!

His eyes opened, watery and pleading, as it perhaps took a shout like that to break through what his mind was busy making of the situation. But it still simply didn't compute: there was a red lightsaber, there was uncontrollable anger, there was force usage that bordered on the insane, to the point where his entire makeshift studio was in flames. She had to be a Sith, nothing else made sense. Even if all she was angry about...was his show interrupting hers?

Now his face showed how perplexed he was. He'd think the content of his show would be a little more salient than simply having it interrupt something...wasn't that sort of thing impossible? He made sure to always keep his upload channel separate from the rest of the ship's Holonet connection, Ceeba took care of it. Unless...

"WouUUUULLLD You-you-you Like a G-g-glasssss of Wrwrwraterrrr Master NNNNnnnthryk?"

A humanoid droid, coated with silver, walked out from the adjacent closet where Slars kept his electronics, seemingly unfazed by the fact he was two seconds away from being Force Choked. Ceeba. You bloody idiot.

Not that he could chastise his droid out loud, he wouldn't dare given the circumstances. But then, something totally out of the blue happened: the woman behind this Sith person that Slars had almost forgot about...she hugged her. She hugged her.

She just hugged a Sith.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HUGGIN' A SITH!?" Slars blurted out as hopefully she was distracted enough to release him from his grip, allowing him to back up straight into Ceeba, nearly toppling the poor droid as he coughed from the smoke filling up the room. Thankfully, his hand touched the fire extinguisher mounted to the wall; immediately, he picked it out of its socket and sprayed it at everything that was currently aflame, smothering the fire before it could consume the rest of his work and equipment with a cloud of white.

Seeing as the Sith was still in the threshold of the room however, he would casually hide behind his malfunctioning droid, using it as a shield in case Hareth got riled up again, still crying like a child.

"She's using her mind powers mate, don't fall for it, don't fall for it! She's gonna kill ya in like two seconds, she wants you close so she doesn't have to chase you dahahown.....oh god don't let them come near me, don't let it near me...."

 

[Retroboy]

Hareth's rage wilted somewhat as she saw the desperate terror in the eyes of the Trandoshan, realizing she wasn't exactly tormenting an equal. Her usual vicious glee at tormenting someone weaker than her failed to appear, either. She was too upset about her show being ruined. Distraught, even. However, she was still angry enough that she was contemplating some sort of revenge on him, to make sure he never did this again. She wouldn't kill or maim him, that seemed counterproductive, but there had to be something she could do to make herself feel better about all of this.

Then, she felt arms wrap around her. At first, she thought she was being restrained, but she felt a body press up against her, and she realized the grip wasn't tight enough. Hareth's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. Her hands trembled, and the beam of her lightsaber retreated into its hilt. She dropped it, her eyes watering as the last of her rage departed her. She turned around to see who had embraced her like this, finding a taller blonde human. Hareth looked up her for a moment, as though she was contemplating how to respond to something like this.

Her decision was made when she hugged House back, crying into her shirt. "It's no-o-o-ot fa-a-a-air..." she bawled, holding onto the woman for dear life despite the fact that she was pretty much a perfect stranger. She remained there, buried in the doctor's shirt, for a good minute or two as she expunged any crying reserves she still had. The Force phenomena she had been causing subsided, and Hareth calmed down to the occasional sniffle, although she seemed to have no intention of actually releasing House from her grip.

 

[Jabonicus]

The Trandoshan shouted, surprised accusations, calling the girl a 'Sith.' House had never met a Sith, but she had a good idea of what they were like. This girl, however, was not like them. Too much variation in emotion, too close to tears. The Trandoshan fell, and scuttled back to quell the blaze in the room. Then, as the girl withdrew her blade, dropping it to the ground, House let her breath leave her longs, softly, as her eyes saw the destruction. Glass and fragile things were cracked or shattered, wood and paper burning, and a muffled fire alarm sounding off in the room. Her thoughts almost wandered, before the girl spun. Her hands remained out, ready to move forward if she moved awa-

Hareth looked up at her, white eyes staring into her own with confusion. She had seen eyes like that before. Not the color- Rather, what was inside them. A feeling of hurt, confusion, a feeling of need. Then her eyes flooded, tears spilling out as she stepped into House, arms latching themselves around her waist, face buried in her shirt. House didn't pause, arms embracing her in the act. Her eyes remained on the girl, holding them both still as she sobbed against House's body. Alarms continued to sound, deeper into the ship, but House didn't care enough to hear them.

All she could hear was the crying, the sobbing, choked out words of stolen joy.

Hareth's current file is incomplete.
Arkanian, female, nineteen.
Force Sensitive, specially trained via Jedi, despite no further connections to the group.
Loner, likely emotionally unstable.
Trusts few, almost none.

She didn't know the girls history, what she had been through or what had been robbed of her. But she didn't need to, not now. All she had to do was be here for her now. Her hands idly rubbed her back through the embrace, attempts to comfort the girl and cull her sorrow. Her lips whispered to the girl, assurances, kind words, and above all else- "I'm here for you. I'm here."​

 

[Kaane]

Slars peeped out from behind his awkward sanctuary.

I wassszzz not progrrrrrrrrammmeddd for hide ANDD seeEEEEk Massszter NNNNNNNNthryk.

"Shut up you bothersome bot..."

The hug was still continuing. Why was this hug still continuing? Did he not just specifically tell this woman, with all of his higher knowledge of the deviousness and cunning of Force users, that she was approximately two inches away from DEATH ITSELF!?

Though a more rational Slars could have answered this question for him, he could only ask himself: Why does no one listen to me?

"Um....ladies, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the person you're hugging is responsible for approximately ten thousand bloody kriffing credits of property damage, and contains enough power to blow your head to smithereens, or control that lil' mind of yours however she wants, and you are currently embracing her like she's your bloody long-lost child! You should be running scared, I'd have already left if she wasn't in the dooooorfraaaame....oh god why did this happen, where did I go wrong in my liiiiiiiiife..."

Y-y-y-you wennnnnnnt wrong by dddddoooooing thisssszzz shooooooooow in the firsrsrsrsttttttttt place Massssssster NNNNNNNNNNNNthryk.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" moaned the reptillian before being reduced to a lump on the floor, too scared and depressed to actually move but too angry to keep his mouth from running. "Why did this even happen, what do I do wrong? I accidentally stop someone's show and this happens...Scorekeeper protect me if I even dare cut someone off in traffic..."

He then proceeded to swallow his saliva, look upwards at the ceiling and belt out the most dramatic "Why" the universe had ever known.

 

[Retroboy]

Hareth rested there for a moment, closing her eyes. It felt good to be held like this, even by a stranger. She wondered why this woman had done this, but the thought was quashed by how much better she felt. She pulled away from the woman, looking up at her.

"...Thank you," she said, offering a small smile, before turning around to look at the Trandoshan having a panic attack on the floor.

She looked around at the carnage she had caused. Some of it was unintentional, but most of it wasn't. At the time, she had been ruled by her anger, letting it push her to commit this mass vandalism. Normally, she wouldn't really care. After all, the man had interrupted her show, but it seemed to be an accident on his part and she was pretty sure this guy was going to die if she did nothing. She trudged across the floor, moving to Slars and looking down at him.

Gently, she prodded him with her foot, trying to get him to uncurl from his fetal position.

"Hi," she said in a low voice, one that showed she knew she had done something wrong. "I'm sorry I trashed your camera." She crouched down, offering him her hand to help him get up. "I... Well, I can't do anything to fix it, but... I... I am sorry. Please stop being a floor-lump."

Hareth was uncomfortable with giving apologies, but she did mean it. At least, she was sorry he felt bad, which was a bit of a new sensation for her, probably brought on by the hug now that she thought about it. She felt a lot better in general, aside from the guilt of pushing this man into a breakdown.

 

[Jabonicus]

It was a hard truth for many people, that in most conflicts there wasn't a 'right' choice or someone who was particularly more correct than the other. In cases like these, sure, you could point to one side and say 'this was wrong' or point to the other and say 'they took it too far' but the long and short of it was that it was too complicated to summarize. It took time, but when the tears of the younger girl slowed and she pulled herself away, House once more looked into those eyes of hers. Little had changed, to be honest, and it was hard to expect much to have changed anyway. A few minutes of crying could only change so much.

The problems in the girls life still existed, and that was unlikely to change anytime soon. However, there was a new emotion- Relief. While crying into someones shirt didn't seem like much, just the process of venting to another person, especially one who cared, the effects could be stunning. House smiled back, a small curve of her lips, silently speaking of comfort, of reassurance, even as the Arkanian pulled away. When she stepped towards the Trandoshan, who seemed to be having his own problems, House kept pace right beside her.

The Trandoshan was a special case. A man of theories and speaking loudly, to convince others into his intricate conspiracies. Not out of malice or greed, mind you, but rather, it seemed, that he spread such information because he truly believed it. If his motives were more ulterior, well, House was certainly fooled. Given his current position, however, well.... It would likely take more than a comforting embrace to fix. Much of his problem seemed to arise from his distrust of the force, surpassed only by his hatred and paranoia of the Sith. She had read such things on his file, and his words here had only cemented such observations.

She wasn't sure how to lizard would react, so she stood a single step away from Hareth, hands by her side as she watched with cautious oversight. While neither one of them were predictable, she was more concerned over the possible reaction of the Trandoshan.​

 

[Kaane]

Slars looked up, into those white, seemingly soulless eyes. He'd scoot on his back towards the ruined wall, making as much space between the Dark Jedi and him as possible. He was audibly whimpering at this point; after what had just occurred, he was fully expecting the worst.

"Please don't hurt me..." he managed to squeak out, a stark contrast from his more alpha-oriented screen persona. There was true fear in his face...a monster was now crouching before him, looking directly at him. A curse was coming his way. He was going to get choked. Burned alive. Electrocuted. And of course, stabbed and slashed repeatedly. There were an innumerable amount of ways he could be killed right here, right now, lost forever to the cold embrace of death.

But none of that came his way. Instead she...she said she was sorry. And asked him to stop being a floor-lump.

The simplistic hilarity behind that one line caused him to blurt out a chuckle against his own will, even as he was busy scanning her for any semblance of ill intent to her apology. Though he quickly recovered his composure while his paranoia was attempting to take control again, he felt his walls crumble somewhat. Even as he tried to make himself believe this was the Midichlorian Collective trying to get him to embarrass himself or get himself killed, thus eliminating one of its many enemies, a part of him somehow knew it wasn't the case.

No longer the eyes of a monster, but the eyes of a child. A child, Slars realized, that reminded him of himself, a long, long, time ago.

With great hesitancy, after what felt like entire minutes of complete stillness, Slars took the Arkanian's hand and pulled himself up, propping himself up against the wall for support. He couldn't quite say anything; he could only nod his head, vaguely implying some sort of acceptance of Hareth's apology.

Eventually, he managed to spit out "I-it won't happen again, I promise" quietly, before surveying the damage as an excuse to stop looking in those pain-inducing eyes. He avoided House's eyes as well; he was utterly ashamed at what had just transpired, and if anything felt weaker than he had in years. The Force had managed to kriffing break him yet again. Not to mention, he couldn't hate this kid no matter how hard he tried.

 

[Retroboy]

Hareth stared at Slars, wondering how to proceed. The man was clearly terrified of her, which would probably be pretty cool in other circumstances. Right now, she wanted to try and fix it. It was hard to determine what would, though. The man's studio was, for lack of a better term, totaled. Hareth was good with machines, but she was not remotely good enough to do anything like repair a cracked camera lens or partially melted circuitry. Nor did she have the funds to actually repay him for the damages she caused.

"I'm going to hug you now," she said. "And I'm going to hope it makes you feel better."

She stepped forward awkwardly, and wrapped her arms around the giant lizard. She had warned him mostly because he seemed like a paranoid type, and she felt like hugging him without warning would have caused a freak out she would have preferred to avoid. She held him for a good half-minute, before pulling back away from him, staring up at him with white eyes.

"There," she said. "I hope you feel better."

She offered an uneven smile, and it was clearly for Slars' benefit, but she was trying. "Maybe I can help repay you by like, helping with your show or something," she said with a shrug. "Or I can just leave you alone... Whatever you want."

Her eyes wandered back to House, her expression grateful. The woman had broken down a barrier she had put up for over five years, and she felt a lot better for it. It would probably return soon enough, but for now she felt significantly better.