revivalproject

WHO: Padmé & You!
WHERE: In and around her Calibration's room.
WHAT: Calibration time~
WHEN: Mid-May
WARNINGS: If you know what happens to Anakin Skywalker then you know this won't be pretty. Warnings for limb removal/loss, burns, life support machinery apply.

(Led Down a Bloody Road)

It begins with a soul-wrenching cry. Her name. She knows that voice as well as her own and Padmé finds herself responding before a chill runs down her spine.

Anakin isn't here.

"Padmé!" there it comes again and tears well in her eyes. Why does he sound so hoarse? Like he has been screaming for hours? She can't ignore him. She can't. For better or worse, he is the man she married and if he needs her, she will be with him.

"Look what Obi-Wan did to me!" his tone changes, fury and pain nearly bowling her over in their intensity. She keeps moving, getting closer to him and then...

She sees him. All he can do is drag himself across the ground, his body a burnt husk. Bringing her hand to her lips, she falls to her knees. What... What happened? Obi-Wan hadn't said anything! Not about... Not about this.

"Ani? Ani, can you hear me? I'm right here." she crawls to him, unsure of what she or anyone can do for him. How is he even alive?

His screams continue and she can almost feel his agony, sizzling along her every nerve, reminding her how she failed him. When she reaches out to, gingerly, touch him, he disappears - or so she thinks. A dark shadow falls over her and she can hear mechanical breathing. Looking up, she sees...a nightmare. A man (?) in a black suit. Fighting her way back onto her feet, Padmé takes a moment before she realizes who this must be.

"Ani."

But not Anakin.

"Who are you?" she watches him reach out to her with a black gloved hand and then he turns, leading her onward, walking in his suit when all he could do before was crawl. How can she not follow?

She barely notices the white room.

(We're All In This Together)

She sits on a chair, pale and drained from her encounter. So that... No, she can't think about it. Forcing herself to focus on the others in the room, she rises and walks towards the nearest.

"You're not alone. Whatever you saw, it's alright."

Is it though? She had spent a fair time in her room being sick and, unsurprisingly, it hadn't helped her reach any comforting conclusions. But she knows she isn't alone and that a fight is still possible. Hope never dies.

(Entertaining the Insanity of Others)

When she can't keep her eyes open, she lays down in her room and tries to slumber, unaware that she could be visiting the minds of others...

(Have any idea? Come at me!)

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The girl hugs her knees as she tries to think of better things than this place. Somehow it feels even less welcoming than Kamino had before she'd left it, except there doesn't seem to be any way to leave, and that realization is an unsettling one in her stomach.

She lifts her head at the woman's approach, sweeping a sleeve across her eyes to try wiping away any traces of the tears she knew were lurking. "I know... But I still don't like it." Her accent might be familiar, similar to the countless troopers who had been the backbone of the Republic's fighting forces. "What's happening? Why are we here?"

She recognizes the accent almost immediately and that draws her closer to the girl. Pulling up a chair, she settles at Omega's side and nods. Her puffy eyes and the accompanying dark circles say that she feels much the same!

"I don't know." Padmé rests a hand on Omega's arm. Contact is important. It reminds them what's real and what isn't.

"But it won't last forever. Once we're out of here, we'll find answers. For now, we have to endure." which isn't in the least bit fair, "I'm Padmé."

It's little enough, and the girl's open to the company. She nods, trying to be brave about the situation. At least she's not alone here, which is both an awful thing and a comfort. She wouldn't wish anyone to be subjected to this, and here she still isn't even sure what they were being subjected to.

Introductions are something easier handled, despite the circumstances. "I'm Omega," she replies, her accent nearly stretching the 'e' into a long one.

Omega. Usually she accepts names without question, but something about that one catches her notice. Is she named for the twenty-fourth star in a constellation or is she the final development of...something? Clones are not unknown to her, after all.

"Your accent sounds familiar. Are you aware of Naboo or Tatooine? What about Coruscant?" she can name many others, but usually those have a significant amount of traffic.

That makes Omega sit up a little straighter, her head perking. "I...know Coruscant," she says. She didn't have the same training as other clones, but with those in Coruscant being most responsible for the continuation of the cloning project by way of funding, the name had come up pretty frequently amongst the Kaminoans she worked with.

"You're from the same galaxy, then," the girl concludes, a careful but hopeful smile easing across her lips. Padmé already seems a lot nicer than the woman she'd found out was a bounty hunter. She's gentle, and it reminds her of Suu Lawquane.

"I must be." Padmé agrees, thinking further on the possibility that this young woman could be a clone. And an important one at that. But none of that matters; not here, not now. She returns the smile she is given, but her sorrow and fragility remain.

"Naboo is my home planet. I've traveled to many others - maybe even your own?" she laughs softly, "I used to love traveling through the stars."

"What's it like? Maybe one day we can go see it." Omega's curious about what sort of world this Naboo is.

"I haven't been to too many places yet, but I never went anywhere until not too long ago. Space travel is amazing!" She hesitates, but then as much as confirms Padmé's thought. "I'm from Kamino."

Steady breaths fill Echo's helmet as he stares at the blinding white walls. It's like standing in one of many Kaminoan corridors, but at the same time it's a far cry from what he remembers. Still uncertain of what has just happened, the clone readjusts mentally to figure out where exactly he is now. That, however, isn't given too much of a chance the moment he hears a voice coming from behind. He turns, head tilting slightly just in time to watch Padmé walk past him.

"Ma'am?" In seeing that she isn't stopping, concern rises as he follows after her, reaching out with his left hand to tap her on the arm. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

She doesn't know she isn't alone - save for her hallucinations - until something - someone? - touches her arm. Jumping away from the contact with a yelp, she looks around and witnesses a strange blur - as if one (seeming) reality melds into another. Echo is difficult to miss and she blinks, confused and scared that she hadn't noticed him.

"I saw..." she also isn't sure she should say, "I thought I saw my husband."

Wearing black armor has its disadvantages, but there are distinguishing features that separate him from what she's seeing. Echo flinches when Padmé yelps, drawing his arm away while maintaining his calm once she becomes fully aware of the situation. "You're safe now," he reassures, stepping back to give her some room. "Unfortunately, I think I'm just as lost as you are..."

Although his head inclines. "Your husband?" Taking a moment, he looks down either side of the corridor again, frowning behind the helmet. "...I haven't seen anyone else come down this way."

Guilt crashes down on her - and not only because she frightened Echo. Purposefully, she walks closer to him, showing him that he isn't the real cause of her panic or her fear. Anakin... How could he survive like that? Is his suit like Echo's?

"Do... Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she glances down the corridor too, paling, "Do you need your helmet to breathe? How... How common is that? Can someone live as...part machine?"

So long as she isn't panicking or fearful of him, Echo is fine with having her approach him. He has plenty of experience with people reacting to his armor even before its modifications and darker color scheme, preparing him enough to be ready for what comes next. This, however, is different: a calm that becomes concerning when he takes into account her worried expression.

The clone then tips his head with slight curiosity at the question posed, blinking behind the black visor. It is kind of a strange question to ask, but he shakes his head. "My helmet helps filter the air, but I don't need it to breathe," he says, his left hand rising to remove the helmet once it releases from the banded cybernetic implant attached to the back of his head. From here, he looks at her normally, his face gaunt and severe, cheekbones sharp, metal nodes where his hair should be. "I...wouldn't really know. I'm assuming it isn't too common..."

He wonders why she's being very specific, automatically glancing down at the scomp where his right arm should be. The last time he's heard someone say 'part machine' was Tech and it still makes him a little self-conscious. "As a cyborg? I'm practically living proof of it." He frowns slightly, but it's not because of Padmé. "Why do you ask?"

Pretty clear he's not alone, given they're both here together. Gladio considers her for a moment, not sure much of how to fix anything with the tension she's feeling.

"You look like hell. Is there anything I can do to help?

Illusions can trick the mind into thinking otherwise. She wants to make it clear that she is real.

The flat expression he receives for that first comment melts into a small, sad smile. She feels like hell.

"Tell me everything I saw was just a bad dream?"

"From what I've been seeing here, most of this has been memories, or things close to them. So, do you remember all that happening?"

He hoped for her sake, it wasn't real.

(Open)

Together

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