myownprice (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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revivalproject2023-06-13 01:11 pm
myownprice) wrote in revivalproject2023-06-13 01:11 pm
there's a little child running 'round this house
WHO: Boba Fett and you!
WHERE: Boba's calibrations room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: June-July 10th
WARNINGS: Boba's memories that can be accessed here include content warnings for character death, decapitation, animal death, violence towards children, and slavery.
The door opens on a child’s bedroom.
Clearly, it is a child’s. There is a small bed, a cluttered desk, a shelf of proudly displayed model starships. It would look perfectly mundane, if not for two things:
One, the smooth, sterile-looking white walls that put one more in mind of a laboratory or a clinic rather than a child’s room. And two, the sea of red sand that buries the floor several inches deep, creating a tiny desert underfoot.
A ten-year-old Boba Fett sits in the center of the bed, legs drawn up from the floor as if he’s afraid to touch it. In his arms is a silver-and-blue Mandalorian battle helmet [cw: character death, decapitation]. He stares at his visitor, tense and unhappy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”
Still, he won’t move to stop anyone from walking around or touching things. He really does seem to be trapped, penned in on his bed by the red sand that surrounds him. He won’t direct his visitor to any particular objects, but several may still stand out besides the helmet in his arms.
There’s a clear glass bowl sitting on the shelf alongside his model starships, half-filled with water [cw: animal death]. There’s a scrap of violet and red fabric half-buried in the sand. And, in the center of his desk is a pencil tracing of a child’s hand—likely Boba’s—with what seems to be a crude sketch of an eye in the center of the palm [cw: violence towards children, slavery].
It’s Boba’s first Calibrations here, so it’s with some puzzlement that this manifestation of him watches his visitor make their way around his room.
“What are you even looking for?” he asks.
WHERE: Boba's calibrations room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: June-July 10th
WARNINGS: Boba's memories that can be accessed here include content warnings for character death, decapitation, animal death, violence towards children, and slavery.
The door opens on a child’s bedroom.
Clearly, it is a child’s. There is a small bed, a cluttered desk, a shelf of proudly displayed model starships. It would look perfectly mundane, if not for two things:
One, the smooth, sterile-looking white walls that put one more in mind of a laboratory or a clinic rather than a child’s room. And two, the sea of red sand that buries the floor several inches deep, creating a tiny desert underfoot.
A ten-year-old Boba Fett sits in the center of the bed, legs drawn up from the floor as if he’s afraid to touch it. In his arms is a silver-and-blue Mandalorian battle helmet [cw: character death, decapitation]. He stares at his visitor, tense and unhappy.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”
Still, he won’t move to stop anyone from walking around or touching things. He really does seem to be trapped, penned in on his bed by the red sand that surrounds him. He won’t direct his visitor to any particular objects, but several may still stand out besides the helmet in his arms.
There’s a clear glass bowl sitting on the shelf alongside his model starships, half-filled with water [cw: animal death]. There’s a scrap of violet and red fabric half-buried in the sand. And, in the center of his desk is a pencil tracing of a child’s hand—likely Boba’s—with what seems to be a crude sketch of an eye in the center of the palm [cw: violence towards children, slavery].
It’s Boba’s first Calibrations here, so it’s with some puzzlement that this manifestation of him watches his visitor make their way around his room.
“What are you even looking for?” he asks.
no subject
"In general I try and look for ways to leave without violating people's memories. To share your history and knowledge is something you should do because you choose it, not because people force it on you."
no subject
His eyes move around the room, as if he, too, is searching for some hint. All of this is still so new to him. Even here, in the space where some part of him should theoretically be in control, he feels like a prisoner himself.
Outside the room, there's the muffled sound of thunder.
"The memories... Is that how people usually get out?"
no subject
For now he moves to sit down right in the sand. It won't be there in the morning, so it's fine.
no subject
And so, for a while, Boba just lets him wait in silence. He doesn't know how long it will take for the stranger to be released—for all he knows, maybe it will just take a few minutes. However, as those minutes tick by and the man still remains sitting there in the sand, Boba starts to get bored. Maybe it would be better to say something, just to pass the time.
"Uh... My name is Boba," he supplies. "Who are you?"
no subject
no subject
"Some people have magic where I'm from, too, but they don't call it that. They call it the Force." Boba makes a face when he says it; clearly, there's something about the concept he doesn't think highly of. "Do you think that's how they're linking our dreams like this? With magic?"
no subject
As Poe. Reeve tucks that pain aside and then shakes his head. Magic seems unlikely.
“Those of us who have been heeded longer believe a race called the Atroma are the cause of a lot of the bad things that happen to us, this included. We heard their voice last time we came here. So it would make sense that they are doing this, and they don’t seem magically inclined.”
no subject
The Jedi have only ever been a cause of misfortune and grief for his family. Boba is sure it would be better if they never existed in his galaxy.
Speaking of enemies, the ones Reeve identifies now are not those that Boba expected. His brow furrows as he stares back at the man. "The Atroma? I thought it was the Agrii who did this to us."
no subject
"The Agrii bring us, but it's through old Atroma technology, and they interfere with our return. We once saved the lives of the Agrii, and they promised to send us home then and there. The Atroma stole the means of it from them. Even now we don't know for sure if the Agrii bring us or the Atroma, but those of us who have been here a while are certain the Atroma are the cause of our misfortunes."
He gestures around them at this room. Because that would absolutely be a good example.
"This place, these shared memories? The Atroma, I guarantee it. I remember what the voices sounded like last year when we came down here. And when I think back... the fake Agrii that led us? They didn't speak like an Agrii."