IF YOU'RE CONSTANTLY SHOUTING

     “ Certainly not the Emperor. He has better things to do than waste his time with little ... gestures like that, ” Mara replies with air of dismissal, her hand waving. There is a mild tension in her jaw, as she fights vigorously to keep hidden the disdain across her features. What an embarrassment it was to waste hours of her precious time to this ridiculous bracelet ... what sort of new protocol was this ? “ If you inform anyone else of this alleged gift, I assure you, you will regret it. ”

     “ It’s insulting that you’d think I’d leave. ” Mara straightens, her head jerking with the movement as she leads the ‘ rebel scum ’ through the darkened corners, away from the prying eyes and itchy trigger fingers of the patrol. There is admitted surprise within her that Padmé did not put up more of a fight. She is normally so stubborn, so ... self-righteous, as members of the Alliance tend to be. Yet here she yields, to the apprentice of the Emperor himself, no less. But I’m not turning her in, am I ? I’m protecting her. A variant of scum, in her own right. “ Keep your head low. Do you have any blasters ? ”

     “ Father’s are kriffs. ” Mara states it blatantly, though not without some semblance of kindness. Her eyes are leveled with Han’s as he speaks of his father, with a distance she finds all too familiar. Deadbeat, she supposes; left Hand first chance he had. Mara has no memory to fall back on of a father of her own, though when she does opt to think of him and his nonexistence she likes to imagine he went down to protect her; to ensure the Emperor would not have her. Alternatively, she imagines him dead in a gutter somewhere by his own stupidity. Both are meaningless to reflect on, but she cannot lie that she understands the ache that reflects briefly in Han’s own gaze. “ It’s impressive you survived down there. But don’t excuse yourself as not being one of those imps, because you are. I’ve seen how you gamble ... and how you avoid paying back bad people. Speaking of which, we need credits ... and obtaining in without having more of a bounty put on this piece of junk. ”

     Us. Mara eyes fall downcast, though there is a tug of a smile on her features. More so than that, there is a persistent softness burrowed in her chest, threatening to expand. A long time ago, Mara may very well have killed it without a second thought, but now she lets it sit. As Luke is avoiding his own dilemmas, she avoids hers. “ I’d suggest a stiffer drink for what’s ahead, but I’d hate for either of us to obtain drunken blackmail of each other, ” she says, sardonically. The smile on her face shifts into a playful smirk, this time her green gaze meeting his. For a moment she considers finding a droid to bring them hot chocolate, but rather decides to make it herself. She wants to keep the calm between them, with no bumbling can of bolts interrupting, but mostly finds it a means of distracted use. She steps to the counter, hands moving quickly, yet her mind on Luke. The Force surrounding him is weary. “ So who talks first ? You talk first ? I talk first ? ”

Jedi Quest is cool.

    “ Eron. ” Mara’s voice is firm yet engrossed in motherly love as she moved closer to him, her hand holding his jaw so his eyes - the eyes of his father - may face her own. My son. How she still remembers him fussing in her arms, gurgling out nonsensical words, before the burdens of life weighed upon him. “ I know more than most what it means to have made mistakes and to live with them. I know what it feels to wonder if I can ever be redeemed. Regardless of what you’ve done ... I am proud of you. You grew into the man I always knew you would become, strong and brave and loyal. ”

    “ Just as I worry for Ben, as well. I worry for my children and the influences that surround them, not just from knives and weaponry, but from family, as well ... ”

     “ Play ? ” Mara gives Padmé an odd look. The concepts of meditating and training in a clearing in the midst of nightfall is not a foreign concept to Mara. As it were, the Emperor had taken up numerous occasions to send her to remote and desolate planets where the mornings scorched and nightfall chilled in order to train in the most unforgiving of elements. But to play catches her rather dismally, for she cannot wrap her head around what that would entail. “ I don’t have much of a purpose playing ... ” But to train and to meditate and to focus on something other than these walls and their all too calming patterns is far too tempting to ignore, even if it comes at the price of nightfall and more waiting. “ Fine. We can wait till nightfall. ”