revivalproject | Clarice's Event Catch-All

WHO: Clarice and youuuuuuuu
WHERE: Various places around Coruscant
WHAT: Exploring, investigating ... and being a bit of an art snob
WHEN: All through the event!
WARNINGS: None yet, but if anything worthy comes up I'll put it in the comment headers. <3

Starling had scarcely had time to get her bearings on Temba before she woke up on the ship, to the strange message. It hadn't taken much to wake her: she'd slept lightly, and took a speed-run of a shower, not wanting to waste the precious hot water afforded to the crew. She didn't want to step out onto new ground and make the impression of a hot mess, after all. After combing out her damp hair, she put it up in a ponytail to keep it off her neck, then shook out her only set of clothes, judiciously inspecting the cashmere sweater for wrinkles and wishing for an iron. Ah well. It was what it was. She'd been provided with credit, at least. Maybe the first order of business - after breakfast - was to get something new to wear.

A: (In Person) Everything will always be alright - when we go shopping
The amount of options were even more staggering than New York, or Paris, Clarice marveled, as the taxi dropped her off in Coruscant's shopping district. She'd counted her credits on the ship, not wanting to be tacky in counting them in public.

She starts off by window shopping, browsing from store to store to get a feel for the prices and the styles: what people consider high fashion, lowbrow, and somewhere in between. She decides a sturdy outfit, something working-class, would be the best choice for back on Temba, but there was also nothing wrong with spoiling herself a little and having something that would make her look good should a situation call for it. Feel free to find her as she's molesting various pieces of clothing, rubbing it between her fingers to check texture or thread count, or as she's sitting down on a bench to try on a smart-looking yet rugged pair of boots.

B: (Network) And you told me all your plans - how you would never let them go
New as she is, Starling takes her responsibility and her new mission seriously. The mystery of Coruscant and the many people brought to Temba from this place has piqued her interest, and so her first thought as a newcomer is to seek them out. She takes out her comm device - a new, strange thing in itself - and taps on the garish pink icon, thinking a moment before composing her message.

Hello, everyone. My name is Clarice Starling. I only just arrived in Temba the day before we were sent here to Coruscant, and I admit that I have many questions ... particularly for those of you who are familiar with this world. In the interest of helping the Agri, would any of you be willing to sit with me for a brief interview of sorts? I would be more than willing to get you a cup of whatever equivalent to coffee they have here, or light lunch, to thank you for your time.

C: (In Person) A bittersweet, evocative song... that doesn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz
After a long day of investigating and attempting to do what she was brought here to do, Clarice changes into the nicer of the ensembles she's bought for herself: a jewel-green gown with a white shawl to stave off any evening chill. The opera house is advertising a new Bith opera, whatever that might mean, and Clarice shows up to purchase herself a ticket with confidence, sliding into the crowd as though she belongs there. Anyone who hasn't met her yet may just mistake her for a native, even as she purchases a program, hoping to learn a bit more about what she's about to indulge in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That was about all Clarice needed to know to really understand Facebook and it only took her a couple of tries, so as the lights went down in the theatre and the orchestra came crashing back to life, Tony sunk down in his seat with another sly smile and his finger touched to his nose. By the end of this night, she was going to have a very different perception of the internet and what it could be if Tony got his chance to explain social media and the new age of communication to her, but this time as the colours erupted in the alien stage, he turned to watch more attentively than he had while whispering enthusiastically with her at the front of the viewing box. It might have been an inscrutable media, in languages that Tony lagged in comprehending as several of them tangled together in their urgent thrall to the drama, but there was still plenty enough to it that Clarice found familiar and meaningful to her. Occasionally, Tony's gaze would slide to her in the dark instead, watching more curiously than he could really muster for the tragedy being performed, but without much to do with his hands in the dark and in a deep debt from dangerously wakeful nights, he was soon not watching anything at all and dreaming the end of the opera for himself in the secure darkness of the theatre.

She drew parallels in the storyline with her own, clearly, but it diverged considerably, and her face made it plain where, for as long as Tony could stay awake. By the end of the show, she had a few trails down her cheeks, and had surreptitiously glanced over at Tony during a few key points to see how he'd react to the twists and tragedies.

Of course he'd fallen asleep. To be truthful, she was grateful he hadn't seen her cry. She reached for her handkerchief and cleaned herself up before going to find a droid to help her get him to a hovertaxi and back to their shared hotel. People would talk, for certain. She had a feeling he'd approve of that.

By the time they were returned to the hotel and the droid had helped carry Tony to his room, Starling was flagging, herself. However, she still had enough presence of mind and manners to take a piece of the hotel stationery and write him a brief note.

Tony,
I hope you dreamt up a better ending than what happened on stage. Thank you for an unexpectedly wonderful evening.
With wishes to meet again soon,
Clarice

She folded it in half and left it on his bedside table, then paid the droid its credits and showed herself back to her room, satisfied and emptied out in that way that only a good opera in good company can do.

Clarice's Event Catch-All | OTA

really, Clarice is lucky, simpler times

you're not kiddin'. TY for this, it was a delight!