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[ He calls Claude up about an hour before the Festival is set to kick off. He's in his Jedi tunics, sans cloak, seated by the small desk in the room they've rented for the purpose of today's plan. He's got a bemused frown on his face. Between his hands, he holds a piece of sky blue cloth, the fabric precisely the same blue as his eyes. ]
So. [ He holds up the cloth. ] There's really no other way, right? You aren't just playing around.
[ There might be a slight pleading note to his voice. This isn't - he's fairly certain some of Padmé's night gowns are made of twice the amount of fabric! It's not that he's vain, necessarily, he just isn't used to showing... skin. His legs are going to be all over the kriffing place. Not to mention his - how's he even gonna carry his lightsaber? ]
So. [ He holds up the cloth. ] There's really no other way, right? You aren't just playing around.
[ There might be a slight pleading note to his voice. This isn't - he's fairly certain some of Padmé's night gowns are made of twice the amount of fabric! It's not that he's vain, necessarily, he just isn't used to showing... skin. His legs are going to be all over the kriffing place. Not to mention his - how's he even gonna carry his lightsaber? ]
[ Claude is in his own chambers, getting ready for the festival when the call goes through. Nodding at the girl who's been helping him fix up his ceremonial loincloth, longer and heavier than his usual ones, and a deep shade of red, he sees her out before taking it, leaning in slightly on his elbows and raising both eyebrows with an openly entertained expression as the Jedi holds up his uniform for the day.
Claude has chosen it himself, after all. Fits his eyes. ]
The Festival of Masks is a day of finding others not by the features that are most familiar to us - [ He taps his own cheek softly to indicate his face. ] - but by the parts that make up the whole person. It's symbolic.
[ A headshake, his voice going lighter, more teasing. A slight smile. ]
While I'm sure you'll stand out regardless, Skywalker, the mask offers some anonymity.
Claude has chosen it himself, after all. Fits his eyes. ]
The Festival of Masks is a day of finding others not by the features that are most familiar to us - [ He taps his own cheek softly to indicate his face. ] - but by the parts that make up the whole person. It's symbolic.
[ A headshake, his voice going lighter, more teasing. A slight smile. ]
While I'm sure you'll stand out regardless, Skywalker, the mask offers some anonymity.
[ Claude's... dressed, or not, ugh - for the occasion, lacking only his mask. His bare chest seems to stand out even more today, like the contrast between his skin and the deep red of his loincloth make all of it look that much more... more. Anakin swallows, aware that he's being teased and not too sure what to feel about it.
His body's definitely not opposed but considering the length of the loincloth he's been given, he hardly thinks there's any room for further deliberation on that point. Actually, he can attest that there'll be no room whatsoever. Shifting, he leans back a little and sighs. ]
You realise I'll have to carry my lightsaber beneath the loincloth. As in, right next to - [ Pause. He trails off, his cheeks heating up very slightly. ] - my - anyway. Basic lightsaber safety rules. This one comes with some pretty gnarly anecdotes.
[ He winces at the thought, shifting in his seat. ]
His body's definitely not opposed but considering the length of the loincloth he's been given, he hardly thinks there's any room for further deliberation on that point. Actually, he can attest that there'll be no room whatsoever. Shifting, he leans back a little and sighs. ]
You realise I'll have to carry my lightsaber beneath the loincloth. As in, right next to - [ Pause. He trails off, his cheeks heating up very slightly. ] - my - anyway. Basic lightsaber safety rules. This one comes with some pretty gnarly anecdotes.
[ He winces at the thought, shifting in his seat. ]
[ Sympathetic wincing for a second, Claude feeling that any considerations on Skywalker's cock should not in any capacity feature his lightsaber, too. As it is, he really likes the slight deepening of the colour to the other man's cheeks, though, taking the edge off the whole - gnarliness of the implied risks of the loincloth.
Yeah, Claude's going to say that reaction makes all the rest worth it. ]
I'm not sure I want to imagine, and yet here we are. [ He tilts his head, smiling. ] But I have faith in your ability not to lose a limb today, you know.
[ His tone is open, honest. He doesn't add that maybe he'd need it later, after all; Claude knows about boundaries, knows about respect. And he respects Skywalker even more than he wants him which says a great deal at this point. ]
Yeah, Claude's going to say that reaction makes all the rest worth it. ]
I'm not sure I want to imagine, and yet here we are. [ He tilts his head, smiling. ] But I have faith in your ability not to lose a limb today, you know.
[ His tone is open, honest. He doesn't add that maybe he'd need it later, after all; Claude knows about boundaries, knows about respect. And he respects Skywalker even more than he wants him which says a great deal at this point. ]
[ Claude has a contagious smile, the kind you can't help but return and Anakin does, maybe less freely, his mechno-hand clenching into a fist. Definitely not today, he thinks, looking down at the blue fabric. At least the loincloth is long enough to - well. It's long enough. ]
I'm planning on watching from amongst the crowd beneath the podium. You're doing more than one speech today, according to the program? [ A slight smirk. ] If people wanted to listen to me half as much, my life would be so much easier.
[ Instead, he's got ten messages from Obi-Wan on his comm, all of them amounting to the same, basic sentiment: whatever you're doing, Anakin, stop doing it. At least, his old Master knows him well enough to assume there's a plan in the works. For him to have faith, though - that's a different story.
He straightens a little, raises his chin.
Claude will be just fine. ]
I'm planning on watching from amongst the crowd beneath the podium. You're doing more than one speech today, according to the program? [ A slight smirk. ] If people wanted to listen to me half as much, my life would be so much easier.
[ Instead, he's got ten messages from Obi-Wan on his comm, all of them amounting to the same, basic sentiment: whatever you're doing, Anakin, stop doing it. At least, his old Master knows him well enough to assume there's a plan in the works. For him to have faith, though - that's a different story.
He straightens a little, raises his chin.
Claude will be just fine. ]
Five throughout the afternoon. We're changing locations for each, I've sent you the route through the city already.
[ He brings up the holomap of his comings and goings until the Face Reveal at midnight. Pointing to the first stop on his trip, the largest square at the heart of Paris City, he adds: ]
My bets are on the first one. [ The holomap disappears again, leaving them as much face to face as they'll be for a good while to come, Claude's mask lying off to the side, marked with stars to denote his rank.
And put a target on his back - or, in this case, his kriffing forehead. ] You get tired of being listened to, when you're nothing but a mouthpiece for other people's propaganda.
[ A shrug, not affected, but not unaffected either. ]
Speak freely, Skywalker. No one can ignore a speech that is free at length.
[ He brings up the holomap of his comings and goings until the Face Reveal at midnight. Pointing to the first stop on his trip, the largest square at the heart of Paris City, he adds: ]
My bets are on the first one. [ The holomap disappears again, leaving them as much face to face as they'll be for a good while to come, Claude's mask lying off to the side, marked with stars to denote his rank.
And put a target on his back - or, in this case, his kriffing forehead. ] You get tired of being listened to, when you're nothing but a mouthpiece for other people's propaganda.
[ A shrug, not affected, but not unaffected either. ]
Speak freely, Skywalker. No one can ignore a speech that is free at length.
[ Speak freely says Claude and Anakin watches him for a moment, thinking about how easily one might take that concept for granted. To speak - walk - or live, freely? No, he's heard it before, that to be free means to choose for yourself. To be silent or to be heard.
He's heard it, yeah. ]
Not if they realise why it might matter to them.
[ He shifts, leaning forward a little, closer to the comm. They say that Anakin is fearless which is obviously a lie, propaganda, in no little way encouraged by the Chancellor and those around him. It doesn't bother him, of course, because it's nice to be perceived as strong, as unwavering and in most circumstances, at least, he is those things and more.
But people like Padmé. Like Claude. Those willing to stand in front of death, not to protect anyone in particular (not to protect their own hearts) but because of fluffy concepts, principles, empty constructs?
Though he might not understand, their bravery is indisputable. ]
He's heard it, yeah. ]
Not if they realise why it might matter to them.
[ He shifts, leaning forward a little, closer to the comm. They say that Anakin is fearless which is obviously a lie, propaganda, in no little way encouraged by the Chancellor and those around him. It doesn't bother him, of course, because it's nice to be perceived as strong, as unwavering and in most circumstances, at least, he is those things and more.
But people like Padmé. Like Claude. Those willing to stand in front of death, not to protect anyone in particular (not to protect their own hearts) but because of fluffy concepts, principles, empty constructs?
Though he might not understand, their bravery is indisputable. ]
[ As Skywalker leans closer to the comm, his features going sharper and more detailed, the tightness to his jaw, the line of it - he's not undressed yet, but in a way he is, right - Claude leans closer, too. ]
Why might it matter to you?
[ I care, it means.
He could talk about persuasion. He could talk about winning people over through speech or through war, how one is right and one is wrong. Unblinkingly, he stares at Skywalker, thinking about his mother who'd say 'not through violence, Claude, not in blood' and he agrees, he does agree, but sometimes there is a way and sometimes there just isn't. Skywalker is a way.
Another way.
Three-four outdrawn moments and he blinks himself back to the present, licking his lips and smiling, a bit hesitantly. ]
If you don't want to answer, ask about my mask, I have it right here.
[ In case his care isn't welcome. You're never forced to accept an extended hand. ]
Why might it matter to you?
[ I care, it means.
He could talk about persuasion. He could talk about winning people over through speech or through war, how one is right and one is wrong. Unblinkingly, he stares at Skywalker, thinking about his mother who'd say 'not through violence, Claude, not in blood' and he agrees, he does agree, but sometimes there is a way and sometimes there just isn't. Skywalker is a way.
Another way.
Three-four outdrawn moments and he blinks himself back to the present, licking his lips and smiling, a bit hesitantly. ]
If you don't want to answer, ask about my mask, I have it right here.
[ In case his care isn't welcome. You're never forced to accept an extended hand. ]
Edited 2023-01-17 17:14 (UTC)
[ He freezes at the question, eyes narrowing, anger surging through him. Personal questions - questions that are hard to answer because of all the things he can't even attempt to explain or describe - are generally not welcome and he'd snap something back at Claude, a way to change the subject, when the other man gets there first. So he blinks, confused; Claude not only acknowledges that he might not want to answer, he offers a way out of it, clearly fully aware of what he's doing.
It's... very considerate of him, really.
Since the wars began - perhaps even before that - all Anakin remembers is going forwards, carving a path through his opposition if necessary. And it always is and it's never enough. He thinks, briefly, about Padmé, settling down next to him on the ground in the workroom on the Lars homestead, so close and yet, so oddly far away; if he'd tried to touch her then, his fingers would've gone right through her. He's certain of it. The desert is like that, isn't it. You have something, something precious and rare, until you realise how thirsty you are, that you're dying from the heat and hallucinating as a consequence.
Hoping to disappear.
Gaze open, he says, voice low, almost hushed: ]
Ask me again later. [ He tilts his chin slightly to the side, nodding. ] Is it like mine?
It's... very considerate of him, really.
Since the wars began - perhaps even before that - all Anakin remembers is going forwards, carving a path through his opposition if necessary. And it always is and it's never enough. He thinks, briefly, about Padmé, settling down next to him on the ground in the workroom on the Lars homestead, so close and yet, so oddly far away; if he'd tried to touch her then, his fingers would've gone right through her. He's certain of it. The desert is like that, isn't it. You have something, something precious and rare, until you realise how thirsty you are, that you're dying from the heat and hallucinating as a consequence.
Hoping to disappear.
Gaze open, he says, voice low, almost hushed: ]
Ask me again later. [ He tilts his chin slightly to the side, nodding. ] Is it like mine?
[ Just a nod. He hadn't as such expected it, he isn't going to expect anything from Skywalker; he thinks the man could do everything and nothing and it would be enough. Creation and collapse, like a star.
He reaches for his mask and pulls it up to his face, not slipping it on, but showing it off, how it'll look. Placement. Outline. ]
Different colour scheme. [ In contrast to Skywalker's blue notes, Claude's is red and black. ] But same basic design.
[ He had stars painted onto Skywalker's mask as well, although it's customary that only the royals wear them. Sometimes people use star-shaped designs anyway and no one will look twice at Skywalker, no, not for the stars. Probably for everything else.
Ask me again later, he had replied, voice hushed, like secrets spilling. Claude's breath catches in his throat a little. Later. You don't get later's with a lot of people, especially not people who are practically strangers. But Claude takes everything he can get. He wants too much, he knows. He's been told. He wants too much for the world, he wants too much for himself.
He wants a lot for Skywalker, too. ]
I'm distinguishable by my three stars, the biggest one right between the eyes. You've got one at each temple. Don't want people to believe you're me.
He reaches for his mask and pulls it up to his face, not slipping it on, but showing it off, how it'll look. Placement. Outline. ]
Different colour scheme. [ In contrast to Skywalker's blue notes, Claude's is red and black. ] But same basic design.
[ He had stars painted onto Skywalker's mask as well, although it's customary that only the royals wear them. Sometimes people use star-shaped designs anyway and no one will look twice at Skywalker, no, not for the stars. Probably for everything else.
Ask me again later, he had replied, voice hushed, like secrets spilling. Claude's breath catches in his throat a little. Later. You don't get later's with a lot of people, especially not people who are practically strangers. But Claude takes everything he can get. He wants too much, he knows. He's been told. He wants too much for the world, he wants too much for himself.
He wants a lot for Skywalker, too. ]
I'm distinguishable by my three stars, the biggest one right between the eyes. You've got one at each temple. Don't want people to believe you're me.
[ The mask cuts Claude's face in half, leaving the bottom half exposed along with his eyes. It enhances him, somehow, despite how much it takes away. Anakin, mostly without thinking, picks up his own and slips it on as well, feeling an urge to mirror, to match, that he can't place. Smiling at the other man's comment - he's got a dry sense of humour, Claude, distinctively quirky, as he's come to expect from intelligent people - Anakin inclines his head a little. ]
Oh, they will be able to tell the difference.
[ Spoken with a bit of heat, something hard and unyielding in his voice. He feels his saber by his hip, the comforting, familiar weight of it. Someone is definitely going to feel it - the practical consequence of harassing a man who knows what he wants, where he's going and how. Anakin's just the means.
Adorned with stars, this time, and just a little better for it. ]
Oh, they will be able to tell the difference.
[ Spoken with a bit of heat, something hard and unyielding in his voice. He feels his saber by his hip, the comforting, familiar weight of it. Someone is definitely going to feel it - the practical consequence of harassing a man who knows what he wants, where he's going and how. Anakin's just the means.
Adorned with stars, this time, and just a little better for it. ]
[ It's late and the Coruscanti nightlife is thriving. Anakin enters the club of his choice, a fairly average place visited mostly by those upper-level citizens who aren't necessarily in any position to get exclusive about their drinking habits. He's nowhere near presentable, the splashes of motor oil along his trouser legs and shirt clashing with the flickering neonlights. He's got scratches along his cheekbone and over the bridge of his nose but no other injuries worth of note which speaks volumes of his luck tonight.
He crashed his speeder bike, sure, but at least it crashed mostly without him.
These days, his life seems to be one, long stretch of the same, monotenous emptiness. He's been confined to the Temple for a month, following the mess on Claude's homeworld, Paris. A mess he certainly didn't create, mind, but of course he gets blamed for doing the right thing under the circumstances. No matter how much he's insisted that the war was inevitable, that Claude would have been killed to keep the corrupt leaders in power otherwise, he's still being punished. And being still on a break (and honestly, he's starting to think it's not a break at all), he can't even while away the hours with Padmé which feels highly unfair - he's finally home and then, there's nothing for him? No one. Just him.
Ahsoka's gone. Obi-Wan isn't, but Anakin doesn't particularly want to hang out with him.
So he races and he crashes and now, he's getting a glass of water for what little credits he's managed to make, regardless. He seats himself by the bar, anonymous, people leaving him alone, minding their own business. He slumps a little, feeling strangely defeated. ]
He crashed his speeder bike, sure, but at least it crashed mostly without him.
These days, his life seems to be one, long stretch of the same, monotenous emptiness. He's been confined to the Temple for a month, following the mess on Claude's homeworld, Paris. A mess he certainly didn't create, mind, but of course he gets blamed for doing the right thing under the circumstances. No matter how much he's insisted that the war was inevitable, that Claude would have been killed to keep the corrupt leaders in power otherwise, he's still being punished. And being still on a break (and honestly, he's starting to think it's not a break at all), he can't even while away the hours with Padmé which feels highly unfair - he's finally home and then, there's nothing for him? No one. Just him.
Ahsoka's gone. Obi-Wan isn't, but Anakin doesn't particularly want to hang out with him.
So he races and he crashes and now, he's getting a glass of water for what little credits he's managed to make, regardless. He seats himself by the bar, anonymous, people leaving him alone, minding their own business. He slumps a little, feeling strangely defeated. ]
Edited 2023-01-17 20:14 (UTC)
[ After tearing down a corrupt rule, watching his planet erupt in a minor civil war, handing power over to the rebel leader, Marc-Antoine and finally writing himself out of national archives for the time being, Claude is here. Coruscant. In many ways a place that works under the same problematic dogmas that Paris did, does, it'll take generations to restore justice there, but in even more ways completely different, completely new. For one, he isn't a prince any longer. For two, he's fully dressed.
Strangely enough, wearing trousers has been the most difficult acclimatization process of them all.
The title? He's glad to be without, kriff. He knows the new government will call on him eventually, there's been talk of changing their current senator for someone more willing to push for neutrality, but it's all in the works. Nothing's final. Nothing's there. Really, Claude feels like his entire life has been one long wait for something to settle the right way.
Tonight, he's decided to hit one of the bars on his way home from the small private collection of holobooks where he currently conducts his studies. His apartment in the upper-levels is bought for government grants, because he has turned down all royal appanages. They're the people's money, he'd said to the sound of loud cheering.
His planet has been thirsting. Well, tonight he's the thirsty one.
The bar is not high-class, but it's what you can afford when you live off other people's goodwill and what he can earn by assisting in academic projects here and there. He isn't by any means poor. He's simply adjusting from being dirty rich. Passing along the bar, he notices a tall, lanky-type man sitting hunched over a glass of water. Then, he stops. Turns. Walks over to the stool next to his, without seating himself, since he hasn't been invited. Claude isn't presumptuous, after all. ]
I think I just found you by your whole person, Skywalker.
[ No need for masks. No need for bare chests either. ]
Strangely enough, wearing trousers has been the most difficult acclimatization process of them all.
The title? He's glad to be without, kriff. He knows the new government will call on him eventually, there's been talk of changing their current senator for someone more willing to push for neutrality, but it's all in the works. Nothing's final. Nothing's there. Really, Claude feels like his entire life has been one long wait for something to settle the right way.
Tonight, he's decided to hit one of the bars on his way home from the small private collection of holobooks where he currently conducts his studies. His apartment in the upper-levels is bought for government grants, because he has turned down all royal appanages. They're the people's money, he'd said to the sound of loud cheering.
His planet has been thirsting. Well, tonight he's the thirsty one.
The bar is not high-class, but it's what you can afford when you live off other people's goodwill and what he can earn by assisting in academic projects here and there. He isn't by any means poor. He's simply adjusting from being dirty rich. Passing along the bar, he notices a tall, lanky-type man sitting hunched over a glass of water. Then, he stops. Turns. Walks over to the stool next to his, without seating himself, since he hasn't been invited. Claude isn't presumptuous, after all. ]
I think I just found you by your whole person, Skywalker.
[ No need for masks. No need for bare chests either. ]
[ Anakin will, if pressed (if there'd been anyone around to press him), admit that he's wallowing a bit. That maybe, just maybe, he should remember what his mom used to say and pull himself together to face another day, the way you do when you're glad to be alive, to have another chance, another rotation. Naturally, dwelling on his mother, however, takes him nowhere constructive and as a consequence, he's on the verge of beating his forehead against the counter in frustration at the depressive circularity of his own mood when he senses someone familiar approaching, the Force whispering look up, for once not in warning but in shivering expectation.
He blinks. Looks up, straightening a little.
In front of him, Claude stops by the stool next to his.
Anakin stares at this sudden manifestation of an actual, living, breathing person who might actually be a friend - then, finding his footing, he quickly nods at the chair in invitation and sits up straighter yet, brushing his dirty trousers down on instinct. Claude looks casual but good. Comfortable (and... nice. He looks nice). Anakin, meanwhile, has to swipe his bangs out of his face where the hair's sticking to him from sweat and dried motor oil. ]
So you did.
[ He tries to remember what he's heard of Claude since they kick-started the revolution in his homeworld. It isn't much. The Jedi Temple is a fairly closed-off world, particularly when you're kriffing grounded. ]
I see you got tired of a world without bureaucracy. [ A smile. ] Welcome to Coruscant.
He blinks. Looks up, straightening a little.
In front of him, Claude stops by the stool next to his.
Anakin stares at this sudden manifestation of an actual, living, breathing person who might actually be a friend - then, finding his footing, he quickly nods at the chair in invitation and sits up straighter yet, brushing his dirty trousers down on instinct. Claude looks casual but good. Comfortable (and... nice. He looks nice). Anakin, meanwhile, has to swipe his bangs out of his face where the hair's sticking to him from sweat and dried motor oil. ]
So you did.
[ He tries to remember what he's heard of Claude since they kick-started the revolution in his homeworld. It isn't much. The Jedi Temple is a fairly closed-off world, particularly when you're kriffing grounded. ]
I see you got tired of a world without bureaucracy. [ A smile. ] Welcome to Coruscant.
[ Skywalker, Anakin - can they be on first name basis now? - looks like someone dumped him in an engine and gave him a good grinding among the gears, from the scratches down his cheek to the stains on his clothes. Not Jedi robes, though. Civilian. Undercover? Misbehaving? With him, Claude thinks, you better not guess, you better ask. Slowly, he seats himself on the stool at Anakin's invitation and has to right his seating a bit to accommodate all the stupid fabric around his legs. Finally finding a comfortable position, Claude turns towards the other man slightly, cocking his head, meeting his eyes, his smile. Welcome to Coruscant, he says, meaning - where bureaucracy was born. Multiple people have told Claude the same thing after he got here, but in differing wordings, subtle warnings. Anakin's words are a tease. Claude likes that. ]
Figured I should aim higher this time. Are you going to help me start a revolution here as well?
[ There's no note of expectation in it. Claude knows he isn't sitting before his designated weapon of choice, to be pulled out when you need things to move and to move fast. Evidently, Anakin is good for that kind of stuff, but he has his own aspirations, no doubt. Hopes, dreams. His own stories. Claude remembers. Ask me again.
This was meant as a good-natured joke in return.
He gestures at the bartender as they move past them, holding up two fingers, leaving the decision as to what they're getting up to their discretion. It'll probably be strong and expensive, then. Exactly what they need. Attention back at the Jedi - who doesn't look altogether Jedi-like tonight. ]
You look like you already fought one, though. [ And because he wants it to be clear, between them. ] If you ask me, you should fight more.
Figured I should aim higher this time. Are you going to help me start a revolution here as well?
[ There's no note of expectation in it. Claude knows he isn't sitting before his designated weapon of choice, to be pulled out when you need things to move and to move fast. Evidently, Anakin is good for that kind of stuff, but he has his own aspirations, no doubt. Hopes, dreams. His own stories. Claude remembers. Ask me again.
This was meant as a good-natured joke in return.
He gestures at the bartender as they move past them, holding up two fingers, leaving the decision as to what they're getting up to their discretion. It'll probably be strong and expensive, then. Exactly what they need. Attention back at the Jedi - who doesn't look altogether Jedi-like tonight. ]
You look like you already fought one, though. [ And because he wants it to be clear, between them. ] If you ask me, you should fight more.
[ Claude orders something from the bartender, holding up two fingers so presumably, Anakin's drinking alcohol tonight. He doesn't, not with any kind of regularity, but he can hold his liquor if he paces himself. Good thing he isn't small or scrawny (he'll never get to watch Ahsoka get herself smashed, for example as a celebration of Knighthood, but he's fairly certain she would be all over the place, drunk, his little sister). At Claude's initial question, he huffs out a breath and leans back a little, stretching out his legs. He accidentally brushes Claude's shoe with his boot and shifts, withdrawing, trying to ignore the way that brief contact made him feel noticeably warmer all over. ]
You'd think so, wouldn't you. It's what I'm good at.
[ Said with a shrug, no traces of bitterness. He's not ashamed to be good in a fight - someone has to be, surely. ]
Apparently, starting revolutions on other planets doesn't make you popular in the Jedi Order.
[ He sips his water again, taking care not to chug it down needlessly. Anakin has never wasted water and never will. ]
I think laying low's my best bet at the moment so - [ He nudges Claude's foot with his own. Just. Briefly. Just because. It doesn't mean anything. ] - you're on your own if you wanna rebel. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see it.
You'd think so, wouldn't you. It's what I'm good at.
[ Said with a shrug, no traces of bitterness. He's not ashamed to be good in a fight - someone has to be, surely. ]
Apparently, starting revolutions on other planets doesn't make you popular in the Jedi Order.
[ He sips his water again, taking care not to chug it down needlessly. Anakin has never wasted water and never will. ]
I think laying low's my best bet at the moment so - [ He nudges Claude's foot with his own. Just. Briefly. Just because. It doesn't mean anything. ] - you're on your own if you wanna rebel. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see it.
[ Their feet touch, briefly, accidentally - Claude consciously leaving himself open and approachable, not drawing away, not pulling back, staying where he might be reached if reaching out is what Anakin wants to do. Listening to the other man explain about the Jedi Order's reproach of his actions on Paris, he senses the moment approaching, then the Jedi shifts and nudges Claude's foot again with his own, completely deliberately this time. It could be friendly, sure. It could be something else, he doesn't read anything into it that isn't there - and leaves it up to Anakin to clarify in his own time.
You're on your own if you wanna rebel. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see it.
Smiling, a slightly loopsided not-quite-grin, he shakes his head and accepts the drinks the bartender puts down in front of them; Abrax Cognac, vintage judging by the smell. The blue liquid catches the flashing neon lights very prettily. Wrapping his fingers around the tumbler, he feels the weight of it, the bartender hasn't been a miser about it either which will no doubt cost him. All right, then. He raises both eyebrows in Anakin's general direction. ]
I'll be as popular as you are with your Order, if the new people's government decides to make me senator.
[ A slow look up and down Anakin's front, face, clothes, indicating all of it. Indicating approval. He nudges him back, playfully. ]
And I'll probably lie low in much the same way, definitely with the same results.
You're on your own if you wanna rebel. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see it.
Smiling, a slightly loopsided not-quite-grin, he shakes his head and accepts the drinks the bartender puts down in front of them; Abrax Cognac, vintage judging by the smell. The blue liquid catches the flashing neon lights very prettily. Wrapping his fingers around the tumbler, he feels the weight of it, the bartender hasn't been a miser about it either which will no doubt cost him. All right, then. He raises both eyebrows in Anakin's general direction. ]
I'll be as popular as you are with your Order, if the new people's government decides to make me senator.
[ A slow look up and down Anakin's front, face, clothes, indicating all of it. Indicating approval. He nudges him back, playfully. ]
And I'll probably lie low in much the same way, definitely with the same results.
[ He sniffs the drink, the scent of alcohol obvious without being off-putting. Glancing at the bright blue liquid briefly, he looks back at Claude and nudges him back, like they're just trading touches now, one after one. There's something about it that feels final - they've settled something that's been otherwise up in the air. Spine tingling, he ducks his head, sipping the drink carefully. It tastes strong, a little sharp. Not bad at all. ]
You, uh.
[ He pauses, wetting his lips. He's never been particularly good or strategic with words, he's got a more... direct approach, as he's often been reminded by Obi-Wan. He's no politician. No Negotiator. But something about the mental image of Claude, walking the huge halls of the Senate building, disappearing amongst the crowd like he's one in thousands, just another fancy cloak... it unsettles him. He looks at the other man, metal fingers tapping against the counter.
They've had frank discussions before, haven't they? ]
Do you really want to do that? Be a senator?
[ He thinks about Padmé, Padmé who seems to want a lot with the world though even when she goes all the way for her cause, it only barely disturbs the status quo. It's not just because of her, because of the way she goes about it. The system is broken. Until the Chancellor finds a way to fix it - and he says he will so it goes to reason that he will - it will remain that way. A waste of resources. ]
You, uh.
[ He pauses, wetting his lips. He's never been particularly good or strategic with words, he's got a more... direct approach, as he's often been reminded by Obi-Wan. He's no politician. No Negotiator. But something about the mental image of Claude, walking the huge halls of the Senate building, disappearing amongst the crowd like he's one in thousands, just another fancy cloak... it unsettles him. He looks at the other man, metal fingers tapping against the counter.
They've had frank discussions before, haven't they? ]
Do you really want to do that? Be a senator?
[ He thinks about Padmé, Padmé who seems to want a lot with the world though even when she goes all the way for her cause, it only barely disturbs the status quo. It's not just because of her, because of the way she goes about it. The system is broken. Until the Chancellor finds a way to fix it - and he says he will so it goes to reason that he will - it will remain that way. A waste of resources. ]
[ There goes his fingers, tapping against the counter, Claude watching the way they move, the metallic thud of their tips on wood. A part of him is weirdly aroused at the way Anakin questions him, the way he is asking him to bring his best game, not for anyone else's sake but for his. Like he's being met by a challenge that he might not succeed with, because winning isn't the point here. Impacting is. Impacting's the point. He frowns, leans in and folds his palm softly over the back of Anakin's hand, stopping his fingers' movement. ]
You're thinking, the system is broken, what's the use, right?
[ The other man's a soldier before all else, he'd know, he's symptomatic. Keeper of the peace? When there's a war raging, the system only knows one way to keep the peace and that's more shows of force, more blood, more so-called victories. Well, Claude is a fighter too, even if he'd never pick up a weapon. Rainier once told him, you keep daggers in your mouth, Your Highness.
His expression darkers for a moment and he strokes Anakin's hand once, then pulls back. Sips his cognac and looks straight ahead for a moment, before continuing in an even tone: ]
We don't change the system by abandoning it to the mercy of the people who benefit from it staying like it is. We go in, we seize it and only then can we tear it down.
[ Another sip, longer. He puts his glass down and turns towards Anakin with a raise of his chin, arrogance probably, pride, things that don't belong with him, but while he keeps daggers in his mouth, he's still only human. He also fights for feminism for his own sake. As much as for his mother's and every other female in the galaxy. Every subject of a corrupt sovereign. Every slave. ]
I know the volume of my own voice and, at this point, my own example. I have a responsibility to present both the tough questions and the tough answers to those whose futures are on the line, the marginalised of every known world. I don't care about the Galactic Senate, honestly, Anakin, but it's a platform to reach those who will benefit from the necessary change.
[ Okay, a moment to breathe. He takes a couple of deep breaths, running one hand through his hair shakily. He doesn't talk himself into these kinds of dazes with anyone else, not since... He was a lot younger, now he has no excuses. ]
In the end, maybe they can do what I can't and rebuild the house.
You're thinking, the system is broken, what's the use, right?
[ The other man's a soldier before all else, he'd know, he's symptomatic. Keeper of the peace? When there's a war raging, the system only knows one way to keep the peace and that's more shows of force, more blood, more so-called victories. Well, Claude is a fighter too, even if he'd never pick up a weapon. Rainier once told him, you keep daggers in your mouth, Your Highness.
His expression darkers for a moment and he strokes Anakin's hand once, then pulls back. Sips his cognac and looks straight ahead for a moment, before continuing in an even tone: ]
We don't change the system by abandoning it to the mercy of the people who benefit from it staying like it is. We go in, we seize it and only then can we tear it down.
[ Another sip, longer. He puts his glass down and turns towards Anakin with a raise of his chin, arrogance probably, pride, things that don't belong with him, but while he keeps daggers in his mouth, he's still only human. He also fights for feminism for his own sake. As much as for his mother's and every other female in the galaxy. Every subject of a corrupt sovereign. Every slave. ]
I know the volume of my own voice and, at this point, my own example. I have a responsibility to present both the tough questions and the tough answers to those whose futures are on the line, the marginalised of every known world. I don't care about the Galactic Senate, honestly, Anakin, but it's a platform to reach those who will benefit from the necessary change.
[ Okay, a moment to breathe. He takes a couple of deep breaths, running one hand through his hair shakily. He doesn't talk himself into these kinds of dazes with anyone else, not since... He was a lot younger, now he has no excuses. ]
In the end, maybe they can do what I can't and rebuild the house.
[ It's Claude's touch, more so than his words, that stills him. Though the sensors in his mechno-hand could be better, he's refined them to the point where they're decent enough and Claude's touch translates as warmth, trailing up his underarm, into his flesh. It's been a while, he thinks, since anyone bothered to put some weight on him that didn't make him challenge himself. He sips his own drink, mirroring Claude, trying to wrap his mind around the implications of his words. The marginalised again, yes, and the idea of helping those who actually need to benefit. That's all him, that's how he's come to know the man and the most spectacular thing is, he seems to actually mean it.
He's heard Padmé make her points about the economy, about trade regulations and corruption in the banking clan. She holds strong opinions about the war, about Naboo and her people's rights to be free. He respects her for that, of course.
But whenever she speaks about democracy, all he hears are fantasies about how it ought to be and not what it's like, what it isn't. He rarely contradicts her so long as they stay off certain subjects. He doesn't think there's any true point to it; she can't see. She was born on a Core World, she didn't even know that slavery existed in the galaxy for half of her life - her eyes are simply too different from his and that's fine. That's what it is.
He frowns. Takes a deep breath and decides to test the waters. ]
It's a flawed platform. Sometimes - [ He watches Claude carefully now. ] - I think its reach is an illusion.
[ Accordingly, it needs to be dismantled. ]
He's heard Padmé make her points about the economy, about trade regulations and corruption in the banking clan. She holds strong opinions about the war, about Naboo and her people's rights to be free. He respects her for that, of course.
But whenever she speaks about democracy, all he hears are fantasies about how it ought to be and not what it's like, what it isn't. He rarely contradicts her so long as they stay off certain subjects. He doesn't think there's any true point to it; she can't see. She was born on a Core World, she didn't even know that slavery existed in the galaxy for half of her life - her eyes are simply too different from his and that's fine. That's what it is.
He frowns. Takes a deep breath and decides to test the waters. ]
It's a flawed platform. Sometimes - [ He watches Claude carefully now. ] - I think its reach is an illusion.
[ Accordingly, it needs to be dismantled. ]
[ After a moment, mirroring him, once more mirroring him, Anakin brings out his own beliefs and Claude embraces them without question, raising both eyebrows slightly and gesturing softly with one hand, half a shoulder. His chest isn't bare any longer, but the shirt fits so tightly that the movement of shoulderblade and upper arm translates perfectly. Not a shrug, he isn't dismissing him. ]
It's not that I disagree.
[ The distribution of wealth and power is like an unevenly measured pair of scales, the weight falls on some, not on others. Until that has been righted, there will be no grand rebuildings of grand galactic senates and perhaps all the better for it.
Maybe they need simpler structures, for transparancy. And they definitely need different people to delegate. Claude runs his eyes up over Anakin's face, the strong features, the scrapes and the bruises. He's been out causing problems tonight, no doubt about it. Sometimes people smash at things they don't even know what is and Claude thinks, Anakin is smashing at the old ways without recognising his own destruction.
Claude likes it. That willingness to act again, for what feels right, not what looks right. Looks deceive, after all. ]
Are you going to tell me what it doesn't reach?
[ Ask me again, he had said. ]
It's not that I disagree.
[ The distribution of wealth and power is like an unevenly measured pair of scales, the weight falls on some, not on others. Until that has been righted, there will be no grand rebuildings of grand galactic senates and perhaps all the better for it.
Maybe they need simpler structures, for transparancy. And they definitely need different people to delegate. Claude runs his eyes up over Anakin's face, the strong features, the scrapes and the bruises. He's been out causing problems tonight, no doubt about it. Sometimes people smash at things they don't even know what is and Claude thinks, Anakin is smashing at the old ways without recognising his own destruction.
Claude likes it. That willingness to act again, for what feels right, not what looks right. Looks deceive, after all. ]
Are you going to tell me what it doesn't reach?
[ Ask me again, he had said. ]
[ Anakin's eyes briefly follow the movement of Claude's muscles as he moves, the tight shirt stretching across his chest and making him remember what he looks like without it. Wearing very little, as it were. It makes him feel just slightly heated and he picks at his own sleeve, briefly, just to do something with his body. Something physical. The thrill of racing has long since abated.
Are you going to tell me Claude asks, not because he can't guess - the other man has told him many times that he isn't blind to the way the galaxy works, that there is oppression and carelessness and corruption within the established system, as a direct consequence of it. At best, it's accidental neglicence. At worst, it's selfishness.
Or rather, a combination of both.
He worries his bottom lip for a second, feeling weirdly young all of a sudden. When he first came to Coruscant, he'd known next to nothing of the world he'd come to and seen everything through the lenses he'd been born with, the views he'd been brought up to survive by. Though the Chancellor had never made him feel stupid (as opposed to Obi-Wan who still, regularly, indulges in that little joy), he'd known that his views were... limited. The world is much, much bigger than they'd ever tell you, Anakin, Palpatine used to say when Anakin would come to him, angry and stubborn (and sad) about yet another thing he hadn't known how to know, for not being able to read or write, for bothering Obi-Wan with his ignorance. It's no fault of yours, the Chancellor would add, always kindly. All you have to do is keep listening and your base of knowledge will right itself.
Hard to say whether that ever truly happened but if the Chancellor sees too much in him, one can hardly blame him. It's just the way he is. ]
If there'd been any true power behind the Republic as it is, they would have ended the Hutt Clans long ago.
[ It comes out harshly, his words clipped. Catching himself, he takes a deep breath and continues. ]
They're criminals. Murderers - slavers. And we have an army now, we have fire power and means. But all we do is fight droids and I get that it's important, that we mustn't give even an inch to the Separatists. Even so.
[ He trails off. Runs his fingers through his hair idly, restlessly. ]
I just think the balance is off.
Are you going to tell me Claude asks, not because he can't guess - the other man has told him many times that he isn't blind to the way the galaxy works, that there is oppression and carelessness and corruption within the established system, as a direct consequence of it. At best, it's accidental neglicence. At worst, it's selfishness.
Or rather, a combination of both.
He worries his bottom lip for a second, feeling weirdly young all of a sudden. When he first came to Coruscant, he'd known next to nothing of the world he'd come to and seen everything through the lenses he'd been born with, the views he'd been brought up to survive by. Though the Chancellor had never made him feel stupid (as opposed to Obi-Wan who still, regularly, indulges in that little joy), he'd known that his views were... limited. The world is much, much bigger than they'd ever tell you, Anakin, Palpatine used to say when Anakin would come to him, angry and stubborn (and sad) about yet another thing he hadn't known how to know, for not being able to read or write, for bothering Obi-Wan with his ignorance. It's no fault of yours, the Chancellor would add, always kindly. All you have to do is keep listening and your base of knowledge will right itself.
Hard to say whether that ever truly happened but if the Chancellor sees too much in him, one can hardly blame him. It's just the way he is. ]
If there'd been any true power behind the Republic as it is, they would have ended the Hutt Clans long ago.
[ It comes out harshly, his words clipped. Catching himself, he takes a deep breath and continues. ]
They're criminals. Murderers - slavers. And we have an army now, we have fire power and means. But all we do is fight droids and I get that it's important, that we mustn't give even an inch to the Separatists. Even so.
[ He trails off. Runs his fingers through his hair idly, restlessly. ]
I just think the balance is off.
[ While he listens to Anakin, it dawns on him that the other man isn't speaking from an ideological point of view. He is speaking from experience, and what a difference that makes. While Paris has suffered under oppression for generations, it has been of another kind, there has not been a societal acceptance of crime or murder or, indeed, slavery. No matter what you might say of everyone being slaves of the system, it is not those people who are owned and branded by others.
It saddens him. Not for his own sake, not for anyone's sake but Anakin's. His eyes are drawn in by the way Anakin runs his fingers through his hair, the half-long strands of it falling around his face. Claude would embrace him if he had been given any invitation to do so, as it is his hand clenches into a fist next to his half-empty cognac glass. The only sympathy he can offer, really.
As individuals they are all but powerless in these matters. It is a systemic problem to solve. Because the systemic structure relies on the status quo to exist and on the dismantling of the status quo to not. ]
You're right, it is. [ It's not a difficult admittance to make. ] It's not just wrong as a matter of oversight either, its wrongness is consciously being ignored, because as long as we support that kind of injustice, the moneyflow will uphold everyone's living standards. Everyone except those who suffer under it.
[ With a frown, Claude turns towards Anakin fully, twisting on his stool, his knees bumping the other man's leg gently. ]
It isn't meant to be like that, it isn't meant to be a division between everything and nothing. We're all supposed to own enough to be comfortable, not more and not less. Least of all, we're all supposed to own ourselves, Anakin.
[ The last sentence comes out soft and empathetic, to emphasize that Claude is going to guess at why this matters to him, why he isn't blind to this shortcoming of the system, although Anakin's evidently willing to overlook a lot of other ones. There are many problems in regards to the established system, of course, some greater and some minor, and unfortunately sometimes it's the resolution of the minor ones that will in the end lead to a current that can resolve the great ones. You should think it was the other way around, right?
Feminism works on several levels at once, it must. Claude looks at the other man directly while taking another drink of his Abrax. ]
By principle, I should probably tell you the only way to solve this is through political channels, but there are transgressions so grave and belief systems so skewed that diplomacy can't fix it. We have a saying on Paris that translates to something like "you can't reason with a violent madman, you must first knock him down and once he lies still, you can reason". I think it applies here, too.
It saddens him. Not for his own sake, not for anyone's sake but Anakin's. His eyes are drawn in by the way Anakin runs his fingers through his hair, the half-long strands of it falling around his face. Claude would embrace him if he had been given any invitation to do so, as it is his hand clenches into a fist next to his half-empty cognac glass. The only sympathy he can offer, really.
As individuals they are all but powerless in these matters. It is a systemic problem to solve. Because the systemic structure relies on the status quo to exist and on the dismantling of the status quo to not. ]
You're right, it is. [ It's not a difficult admittance to make. ] It's not just wrong as a matter of oversight either, its wrongness is consciously being ignored, because as long as we support that kind of injustice, the moneyflow will uphold everyone's living standards. Everyone except those who suffer under it.
[ With a frown, Claude turns towards Anakin fully, twisting on his stool, his knees bumping the other man's leg gently. ]
It isn't meant to be like that, it isn't meant to be a division between everything and nothing. We're all supposed to own enough to be comfortable, not more and not less. Least of all, we're all supposed to own ourselves, Anakin.
[ The last sentence comes out soft and empathetic, to emphasize that Claude is going to guess at why this matters to him, why he isn't blind to this shortcoming of the system, although Anakin's evidently willing to overlook a lot of other ones. There are many problems in regards to the established system, of course, some greater and some minor, and unfortunately sometimes it's the resolution of the minor ones that will in the end lead to a current that can resolve the great ones. You should think it was the other way around, right?
Feminism works on several levels at once, it must. Claude looks at the other man directly while taking another drink of his Abrax. ]
By principle, I should probably tell you the only way to solve this is through political channels, but there are transgressions so grave and belief systems so skewed that diplomacy can't fix it. We have a saying on Paris that translates to something like "you can't reason with a violent madman, you must first knock him down and once he lies still, you can reason". I think it applies here, too.
[ Claude bumps his knee and tells him that it isn't meant to be like this, not because the ideology is right and the people are wrong - but because the system itself isn't based on freedom for everyone. Slavery isn't meant to be abolished, by that logic. Anakin hates it.
And he's known for years, though he'd never be able to put it as concisely as Claude just did.
Drink mostly forgotten, he leans in a little, gaze roaming across Claude's features - familiar at this point, pronounced cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, full lips - and thinking, how does he understand? but he does, finally, someone who does. When he was younger, he'd talk to as many people as he could in the Temple, trying to find someone who'd be willing to help him, to go with him to Tatooine and get his mother, their people. It speaks volumes, really, that he's here today, fighting somebody else's war, while his mother has become one with the sands. Diplomacy can't fix it says Claude and that's the problem, in a nutshell.
Winning the war is up the Jedi, to the soldiers, to those who take up arms. Ending slavery is no different.
For a long, long moment, he just looks at Claude, his own gaze unflinching as he takes him in, imprints. ]
I'm glad you know these things. That someone does.
[ He shifts forward, their knees not just brushing but pressing together, feeling the hardness of the other man, bone and muscle and skin and above that, heat. For some reason, he remembers the flash of lights passing by as he'd flown through the lower level streets, spinning and dodging completely by instinct, his own body a continuation of the speeder, of its circuits and switches and the fuel, burning to nothing too fast.
He thinks about that and then, carefully, he puts his flesh hand over Claude's and rests it there, fingers curling slightly around the shape of it. ]
I've never met anyone like you before.
And he's known for years, though he'd never be able to put it as concisely as Claude just did.
Drink mostly forgotten, he leans in a little, gaze roaming across Claude's features - familiar at this point, pronounced cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, full lips - and thinking, how does he understand? but he does, finally, someone who does. When he was younger, he'd talk to as many people as he could in the Temple, trying to find someone who'd be willing to help him, to go with him to Tatooine and get his mother, their people. It speaks volumes, really, that he's here today, fighting somebody else's war, while his mother has become one with the sands. Diplomacy can't fix it says Claude and that's the problem, in a nutshell.
Winning the war is up the Jedi, to the soldiers, to those who take up arms. Ending slavery is no different.
For a long, long moment, he just looks at Claude, his own gaze unflinching as he takes him in, imprints. ]
I'm glad you know these things. That someone does.
[ He shifts forward, their knees not just brushing but pressing together, feeling the hardness of the other man, bone and muscle and skin and above that, heat. For some reason, he remembers the flash of lights passing by as he'd flown through the lower level streets, spinning and dodging completely by instinct, his own body a continuation of the speeder, of its circuits and switches and the fuel, burning to nothing too fast.
He thinks about that and then, carefully, he puts his flesh hand over Claude's and rests it there, fingers curling slightly around the shape of it. ]
I've never met anyone like you before.
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