RPlog:A Chat In The Park

Xar'on sits on a bench, engrossed in a datapad. Despite mumbled profanities as he reads, a few ground rodents scamper about his feet, one even seems to watch him from the backrest of the bench. An unlit cigar sits at the corner of his lips, bobbing along to his muttered obscenities.

Twila sits down by the man, apparently having gone out of her way to hunt him down. "Hey, Xar'on.." she mutters quietly, her voice a bit weary, making her almost sound like she didn't sleep. "Everything alright?" The rodents get stared at while she makes herself a bit more comfortable, taking a moment to do so before speaking again. "I'm sorry you've been getting caught in the tension that sometimes hits Gren and I. We're both very headstrong and we're both very tense.."

Xar'on continues to examine the datapad for several moments, before he notices the young twi'lek beside him. He turns to her, blinking as his eyes adjust focus. "Ah, Lieutenant. Everythin' alright? Well, other than dealin' with the stupidity I did to my body on that moon, I'm fine. Well, that and the damn Imps breathin' down our necks." He shrugs, and continues, "Don't be worryin' about that. Ain't the first time I been a witness to those kinds o' squabbles, 'n I doubt it'll be my last."

Twila cocks her head to the side, leaning towards the doctor as she tries to sneak a peak at his datapad, her eyes narrowing as she does so. "Is that why your hands have been shaking, Doc? Wh..what happened to you down there?" It's a blunt question, not that one like that could be easily padded with fluff. You don't just ask something like that and try to gloss over it. She sits up again and then watches him, a brow now arched as she speaks further. "Well, yes. It is still not good for the personnel to see Gren and I fight. Even if it is about work. Best to keep that for the privacy of somewhere else."

Xar'on nods, "Exactly. Folks under you don't need to see their leaders bickerin'...rotten fer morale, and it breed uncertainty." He glances at the datapad, which shows several anatomical diagrams of different species, lines linking what looks like similarities together, tagged with obscure medical terminology. "I'm detoxin'. I was the only one on that moon willin'..." he pauses, face darkening briefly, "...I mean, there wasn't anyone else on that moon able to care for the serious injuries 'n surgeries. They wouldn't stop comin' in, so I kept pumpin' myself with Gylocal to stay awake. It worked, fer the most part, but I'm payin' for it." He shrugs, "Not that big a deal."

Twila frowns slightly. "You're going to get some leave once this is all done, Doc. I'll make sure of it." A bit of a sigh sounds from the blue-hued woman as she looks around, frowning as she does so. "I love Gren, Doc. I really do. I..I don't know why, but we seem to clash sometimes. And often times during the wrong time. It's...frustrating for us and I know it's bad." A sheepish glance is cast towards the human once that's said. "I just get so angry sometimes..so...stubborn. And I don't know how to quell that. I don't know how not to be in charge."

Xar'on frowns a bit, croaking, "I ain't sure I'm the one to help you with that. I've been known to have some pretty nasty tantrums over the years. I don't know yer history, so I can't rightly tell you what's the best way to go about dealin' with yer anger. All I can say is you gotta recognize what yer REALLY angry about...what's REALLY upsetting you. Sometimes, not bein' able to lash out at the true source of yer anger causes ya to lash out at what's available. Like I said earlier...ya need to bottle it up, then save it fer a deservin' target. I'm sure the Colonel says 'n does plenty to deserve yer anger, but I think you'll agree that there are much more deservin' targets fer that rage. Save it. When the time comes, use it. Focus it like a laser beam 'n fry every one o' them bastards." He shrugs again. "But like I said, ain't sure I'm the one to give that kinda advice."

Xar'on frowns a bit, croaking, "I ain't sure I'm the one to help you with that. I've been known to have some pretty nasty tantrums over the years. I don't know yer history, so I can't rightly tell you what's the best way to go about dealin' with yer anger. All I can say is you gotta recognize what yer REALLY angry about...what's REALLY upsetting you. Sometimes, not bein' able to lash out at the true source of yer anger causes ya to lash out at what's available. Like I said earlier...ya need to bottle it up, then save it fer a deservin' target. I'm sure the Colonel says 'n does plenty to deserve yer anger, but I think you'll agree that there are much more deservin' targets fer that rage. Save it. When the time comes, use it. Focus it like a laser beam 'n fry every one o' them bastards." He shrugs again. "But like I said, ain't sure I'm the one to give that kinda advice." (speaking in Ryl)

"Well, yes, perhaps.." Twila says softly while slipping into Ryl herself, doing so as easily as she breathes. "I suppose that I do need to learn how to refocus my ire..in a more productive way." She looks at the man as she blushes, perhaps embarrassed by this discussion. "I don't mean to harp on this subject. I am sure plenty of husbands and wives fight, Xar'on. But..this feels different to me. by no means 'typical'." That's all she says for now as she finds herself looking down just in time to see one of those rodent...things scamper over her foot, startling the woman into momentary silence. (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on watches the rodent run over Twila's foot, up his leg, and then make a dramatic leap into nearby bushes. He appears utterly unfazed by the wildlife. "You'd be surprised how stress affects a relationship...if ya don't deal with it, it'll only get worse. Trust me, I know. Ya both had some nasty stuff happenin' before ya signed on with the CSA. Then the ugliness on Nar Shaddaa, right after yer weddin', 'n now an Imp taskforce, screwin' up yer honeymoon. More than a little understandable that tensions 'r a bit high." He shrugs, then croaks, "Best I can offer is to make sure you two don't go to bed with anythin' unresolved. Don't let no fights boil over to the next day. Use the few quiet moments you have now to reconcile 'n have *some* peace before the next day kicks ya in the lekku." (speaking in Ryl)

Twila shakes her head again and sighs slightly, frowning as she realizes just how foolish she has been. Despite her acceptance of the fact, she finds herself very unable to figure out how to make the first move to change how things have been. "Yeah.." she manages to utter, that single word left to hang for a while before she continues on. "Doc, do you think we'll get out of this alive?" Yes, it's a question she's been wanting to ask for a while..ask anyone..but she hasn't really been able to until now. (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on nods, looking at her squarely, "Yer damn right I think we're gonna get out o' this alive. Listen, I was in the Rebel fleet over Endor when the second Death Star was poppin' us off like gnats, I was on Hoth when the Imps sent waves o' walkers and troopers at us, I was on Yavin 4, with the first Death Star was linin' us up in her sights, 'n I was in a whole mess o' scrapes during the Clone Wars when I thought the neverendin' swarm o' droids was gonna overrun us all. The folks that never gave up hope got out alive. If ya give up on it, when opportunity presents the hope o' escape, you'll be blind to it. That's when ya get waxed."

Nodding, Twila listens, blinking once or twice as she realizes just how old Xar'on is. "Been around the galaxy a time or two, huh?" That's said in an attempt at a joke but the humor's most likely lost thanks to how the Twi'lek just can't smile. Otuside of her wedding to the Colonel, the woman just has not had much luck finding things to be happy over, recently. "I understand about what you said about hope, Doc. It is something very important to keep in sight. I..I almost lost it when I was being tortured. It's funny, but it wasn't until Malign came up and told me about his deal with Gren that I believed I was going to get out of there alive. A Sith warlord renewed the belief that I was going to get out of there as something else besides a corpse..funny, isn't it?" Licking her lower lip, Twila watches his face carefully. "You ever heard of the bloodworms, Doc? The ones that they put in you and...er, I am sure you have." (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on's scowl deepens, and he nods. "Yeah, I know about them damn worms. Ugly, brutal, and downright unimaginative way to extract information. Only morons gotta resort to methods like that." He sneers as he croaks, "The Sith never provide hope. Always remember that. They provide the illusion o' hope. The promise o' hope. Never ferget that. Ever." He's quiet for a few moments, watching a bird land nearby. He actually seems calmed by the flora and fauna in the park. "As much as they bug me, back in the day...when they were at their strongest...that is the one thing the Jedi were always good at: providin' hope. I can't take that from them." (speaking in Ryl)

Twila shrugs a bit. "It was Korynn's doing, to be honest. Tyler actually removed the worm from me." An awed tone of voice flows from her as she recalls the events leading up to the point that happened, her eyes lowering as she does so. "I guess you're right about the Jedi. I've only met one twice. Needless to say, the interaction between Skywalker and myself was less than polite." Shrugging at that, she leans back, ignoring her surroundings even as Xar'on seems to drink them in, her eyes closing as she slouches on the bench. "The events leading up to this point have been..interesting, to say the least." Cracking an eye open, she pivots her head towards the human as she asks, "Where the hell did you learn to speak the language of the Twi'lek?" (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on croaks, "Like you said, I been around the galaxy a few times. Remember, one o' the reasons I left Chandrila was so I could meet 'n experience other species...other cultures. My research led me to spend lots o' time with folks from all kinds o' species. Hell, I could probably write cultural guide books 'n tour books fer a lot o' planets. I spent time studyin' different cultures, because I think it helps a lot in knowin' the physiology 'n biology of a species. Understandin' the lifeforms on the planet...what the species eats...meanin' behind their rituals 'n customs. Learnin' the lingo made my research much easier 'n gave me access to stuff not available in Basic." (speaking in Ryl)

Twila nods slightly as she stretches out her arms, raising them over her head as she listens. "Interesting. I guess I did the same thing..although for different reasons." Looking around, she wrinkles her nose as she watches some people wandering about, chatting happily while they hold hands or otherwise interact happily with each other "I wonder if they know what's happening. Surely they have to..yet look at them, Xar'on. They can laugh and smile and everything. Why can't I?" (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on studies the young twi'lek for several moments, before rasping, "Cuz yer on yer way to becomin' like me, girl. Don't let that happen. Yer far too young fer that." He watches one of the couples strolling away and croaks, "I seen a *lot* o' nastiness in my day, girl. Things folks do to each other...things they do to themselves. It makes ya angry. It makes ya mean. Makes ya put up a wall around yerself that ya only drop fer what ya hope 're the right people. Trouble is, ya keep that up long enough, that wall gets harder to drop. One day, you'll find it's permanent...'n well, after that, there ain't much you can do about it." He looks back to her levelly, and grunts, "The colonel. Savor every moment you have with him. Enjoy the *now*. *Live* in the now. When yer together, don't live in the past, 'n don't be distracted by what may or may not happen in the future. Old sayin' I heard: tend to the flock in yer fences. The wolves you think 'r out there might not even exist. Don't end up like me, kid. All you'll have to live with is regret." (speaking in Ryl)

"Damn, Doc.." Twila mutters while she takes that in, holding on to it like a lifeline or something. "You get me to cry and I'll have Gren punt your butt out of the ship the next time we're in hyperspace." Groaning, she slouches a bit further in her spot upon the bench, going into a full-on slump, now, and even goes as far as to rest her head on the older man's shoulder a bit. "It's hard to live in the -now-. Especially when I have nightmares and stuff. Makes it hard to think of anything but what happened to me. And as for what the future might hold?" That gets her to snort slightly. "Well, yes. I don't think I need to comment on that, now do I?" Grinning, she gives the grizzled older man a chuckle as she whispers, "Keep this up and I'll just have to adopt you as a father figure or something, old man." (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on blinks as her head rests on his shoulder, and he offers a wry chuckle at her comment. "Don't be thinkin' that, girl. I'm pretty sure I woulda been a lousy father." He looks around the park some, and grunts, "Nightmares. Believe me...got my fair share. More." He looks over his shoulder, in his mind, the distant rumbling of unbelievably heavy metallic feet, thudding onto packed snow. "But what're they? Hmmm? Shit that kicked yer ass in the past, 'r shit you think *might* happen in the future. When ya wake up, what do you got? Sure, some nasty memories...bad feelings...but nothin' real. Nothin' you can touch, feel, hear, see. Nothin'. Don't let 'nothin'' run yer life." He shrugs, gently, careful not to launch her head, and rasps, "It's a little different, fer you 'n me. Yer baggage is recent. Mine is in the past. WAY in the past. But once ya get done with any trip, even a bad one...a horrifying one...ya don't carry that baggage around with ya forever. If ya do, when somethin' else is tossed at ya, how're you gonna catch it? Yer not ever gonna be able to embrace yer marriage if yer still luggin' that garbage." (speaking in Ryl)

Twila nods a bit and then grins. "Yeah.." she eventually murmurs. "I owe that much to Gren..at the very least." Taking a deep breath, she keeps her head settled upon Xar'on's shoulder, seemingly drawing some comfort from doing so. "How did you get so wise, huh? Does it come with age..or experience?" Drawing away from her conversation partner, the Twi'lek sits up, making herself look quite a bit more proper. Best not to give anyone reason to gossip if they were to see them sitting there and recognize them. (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on snorts. "Wisdom? If that means I was lucky enough to live through my mistakes...and learn from them...then yeah, I reck'n it comes from age and experience. Don't know if ya'd call it wisdom. Pure dumb luck, maybe." He clicks the datapad off, nearly forgotten, and croaks, "I don't want ya to think I had a bad life, kid. I seen things...done things...most folks only dream about. I seen wonders...and horrors...that most holo writers wouldn't be able to conceive. If I live in the *now*, I can appreciate that what happened in the past got me to where I am today...allowed me to be the person I am now...to do the things I can do. Good 'n bad. Look at you now, girl. You got the respect 'n responsibility accorded yer rank 'n position. You got friends to look out fer ya. Ya got the things ya need to live, 'n the things ya want to make livin' more enjoyable. *And* ya got a man who'd sell his soul fer you. That's you *now*. All that ugliness that happened in the past...along with all the good times...that's what made this person in front of me *now*. Appreciate that what you are now, who yer with now...that's a nice silver linin' fer them storm clouds in yer pretty little head, ain't it?" (speaking in Ryl)

Twila looks at the human and nods while her lip quirks into a bit of a wry grin. "Yes, dad." Chuckling, she bumps shoulders with Xar'on before sliding over, giving him his personal space back. "You're right. As much as I'd love to get stubborn and say you're not...I can't. You know, Gren's not the only one who'd sell his soul to keep his love safe, right? I'd do the same for him in..well, in no time flat." That gets her to nod a bit as she says that, smirking slightly while she adds, "I love him. I love that man despite his insanity-inducing ways, Doc. I love him more than I do myself." Her eyes sparkle as she says that. (speaking in Ryl)

Xar'on nods, "I know, girl. He knows it to. *That's* what ya live with. Not that ugliness in yer past. You learn from that. Ya take from that. But ya don't live with it. And ya don't let it run ya. It's just a choice ya make. Whether ya live fer what you and him have, or ya live fer what ya stepped in along the way. That simple." He closes his eyes, a small shudder running through his body. After several moments, he opens his eyes and offers a sheepish grin. "Sorry 'bout that. Oughtta stop in a week 'r so." He shakes his grizzled head, and croaks, "So, girl...what's it gonna be?" (speaking in Ryl)

Twila straightens her uniform tunic and brushes a bit of imaginary lint from the front of it. "I will try my best to move on, Doc. Can't say it'll be easy..or that it'll be fast..but I'll try." The doctor's given a hug after that, something that Twila has to giggle over for some reason or another. "I appreciate this, Xar'on. And I don't care what you say. I think you're very wise." Nodding, she eyes him and gives him a lock that dares him to argue with her.

Xar'on shakes his head, and grunts, "Ya don't try it, girl...ya just do it. This ain't some new game yer learnin', 'r some new skill...it's yer marriage and yer life. You *commit* to it, like I chose to commit myself to patchin' up others. I didn't *try* to make that choice. I did it. I do it everyday. Just as you 'n the colonel 're willin' to die fer each other, I'm willin' to die fer anyone I call a patient. I made that choice. I *did* it. And I do it every day, fer...hell...longer than you been alive. And I'll do it a minute from now, tomorrow, and 'til I *finally* die. It's that easy, girl. Just do it." (speaking in Ryl)

Twila stands up, looking very emboldened. "Yeah. I know. Well, I probably should get going, Doc. Got to get back to the paper work and junk. I'll see you later." Reaching out, she offers the man her right hand, an odd gesture. "I don't give a damn what you say. You're a good man, Tanner. Don't try to convince yourself otherwise, you old coot."