May 03, 2017:

Kyle takes Starfire with him on a mission that requires her knowledge of solar and seismic activities.
Time, is discussed and the news is delivered.

The Star Systems - The Final Frontier - Arailoo

This is where things take place…
In Galaxies Far Far Away…

((In the RP))


NPCs: Citizens of Arailoo



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

In the week since Kyle's apartment has been thoroughly unpacked and he's been thoroughly introduced to the escape pod, one thing has been made ultimately clear about Kyle Rayner's life: It's been anything but normal, and never will be. Seven days of patrols of the rifts in space and time upon Earth are lined with time spent with Princess Koriand'r. Three more Star Wars movies are done, and one morning spent in a blanket flipping through his sketchbooks had introduced Koriand'r to a core of support in his universe that she may have become a part of. Her peers, now.

Kilowog, tusked and thuggish.
Tomar Re, beaked and insightful.
Laira of Jayd, the mind of Sun-Tzu with purple skin.
And one picture of a squirrel Lantern, whom Kyle swears is a real Lantern.

But the time isn't spent entirely wrapped around the emotional gooey-ness of sentimentality and Star Wars movies. There have been fires to put out, both inside and outside of their respective homes.


Sometimes, the job has its perks. When Kyle is called out to a faraway sector of space to help the planetary government of slim, azure-skinned humanoids monitor their seismic and solar readings and determine whether or not the populace will one day require relocation, she's the perfect addition to the job. She knows solar in ways Lanterns could only read from their rings.

They are greeted as heroes. Hundreds line the purple seas and tall, black trees of their city, waving the two on their way to meet the planet's spiritually-led government.

It is a peaceful planet.
They are offered private villas overlooking the violet-hued waters.
The beacons are set and the first day of readings are being gathered.

The pod Kori called home, was one fired off the HMSS before her crew turned to handle matters in their own sectors, to some who knew her before, this simply does not make sense, but when she explains it to Kyle perhaps it will, considering his place in her life came close to the End and the Beginning.

But Four years ago…

Sitting with legs folded and tucked beside Kyle, she is in one of his shirts, though the fabric has obviously stretched and strained, the collar something that is extended beyond elasticity, crinkled and hanging lamely off one tawny shoulder. The sketch pads rest in her lap, or fanned in front of her, listening and bringing ones to the forefront when he told stories of them, his friends, those he holds dear.
Then she tells him of her crew, giving elaborate descriptions if he does not know of their species in sectors already.
Orn, the Citadelean… And it touched only lightly on her history with his people, that trade that lead Kori to years of slavery, ultimate enemies and demise: They should never have become friends, but they are.
DePalo, the Dominator… Who most want to eradicate the moment they realize what he is. Obvious tension, but none the less the Captain of the HMSS now, and trusted.
K'tten, Tamaranean like her… Mohawked mane, bitey attitude, and a glare that threatens to cut emeralds through you. The balance to Kori's own mein, and the only other Tamaranean she has seen since her home was destroyed.
Tamaran, off the charts completely.
Star Wars was delighted in, as was the company Kyle brought her, the stories, the times they shared.

"They sound like my gang, only harder to mesh with at first,
Kilowog would fit right in with them, if they didn't kill each other, first.
I hope I get to meet them again, someday."

"They would, but by the sounds, Kilowog would have to go head to head with Orn. It is only natural. The others… Time…"
The squirrel lantern though… Kori just eyes pensively and flicks her gaze from him, to the sketch, to him…. Brow-arch /sloowlyyy… Still not buying it….!

His call from the ring has her peering with eyes that almost mimic the color of jade in the dimmed light as it calls for him to report to Arailoo, the invitation for her company meets him with a blink, but if she could help them all? She was in…

That and when they broke through clouds and into atmosphere it is apparent Starfire took delight into the unspoken race of speed into space itself until he had to take over and lead them to the designated coordinates.
Once on Arailoo, though, Starfire's mien seemed to shift, there was a near unspoken delight but it showed in every movement, down to the way she even stroked fingers over their plant-life, or once she had pressed plum lips to the azure skin of a child's forehead after a game attempt native to their people - she spoke with them in their tongue, even teaching Kyle the basics, translating between if need be as they performed the studies necessary for the first day.

The thin rays of golden light reflected off of any of the planet's seven moons bounces off of the water and into the villa, where just like before they left the Apartment in New York to come to Arailoo, they sit aligned and look over the breaks in the water as variant lights are cast over the body in the nights passing.

"We can keep these people here. The safety can be similar…?" Starfire's lean aligns her to his side, legs tucking in slowly to bend at the knees and add to the laze in her recline.

"They have time. Hundreds of years, maybe thousands. Plenty enough for us to find a way to stabilize their orbit." His voice lowers, thinking through his words as they turn personal. "I don't think we have any bad news to give them."

"How much, time?" Starfire's question is one that is all-encompassing. Not just to those Arailians' that live this sunrise daily, but to that lowering tone Kyle offered, drawing her gaze from the waters to him. "..Good, I would move them…" A silent pact as her chin rests on his shoulder to pointedly watch Kyle's shift in facial features.

"…None?…." No bad news at all? A flicker of emerald gaze unlidded and Starfire smiles, slowly…. "…This means, then…?" Oh that feline mischief in her eyes, that flash of ivory in her smile.

"This means…that I'm going to petition the Guardians for a joint effort to help restabilize their orbit, but this means tomorrow we get to tell them they have hundreds of years to choose." Kyle manages the words, mindlessly chewing at his lip at the look in her eyes. "We're about to give some good news to a lot of people."

"I could not ask for more. They deserve reprieve." But their exchange, their words, somewhere in there was something different, something so casual, something hidden, and yet not. Kyle caught her look, bidden with the scraping draw of lips in a similar smile that met in the middle, lingering and then drawing apart.

"Perhaps we should let them know, then?" But their exchange, their words, somewhere in there was something different, something so casual, something hidden, and yet not.

How long does it take two people to say things in creative ways? A dozen complex concepts are traded through the rising of Arailoo's fifth moon. They are traded in the same way that two different colors in the same lava lamp mingle: in abstract methods of touch. There are conversations that have been had, and for the conversations Kyle Rayner and Koriand'r have yet to have, for all the artist Kyle Rayner is, he deals in charcoal on a page to convey.

Kyle's ring waking them when it's morning on the planet's surface to address the planet's spiritual leader with rare good news…is a plan in place of a conversation. It's a detail. It's a pushpin on a corkboard, important as it is, but it isn't their dialogue.

Hours later, Kyle Rayner steps out of the door of the villa and onto the black-sand beach of Arailoo. He steps out of the door in his uniform, the emerald green and black emblazoned in glowing white of his station in the sector. He turns lean against the doorway of the villa, arms crossed, boots crossed, content to breathe in the planet's saffron-smelling air…to watch Koriand'r in her preparations to fly into the capital and the grand temple that awaits them.

Days, now? That is how long it takes. Over a week. Maybe upon two weeks now? Uncounting of the absence of mind and what replays like reels of a tape-movie when it is mentioned - static included, but those old family recordings of sorts still make her smile… Make her…
… Know perhaps there is more to record and playback upon.
For a while her eyes watched the moon lift…
    The waters ripple..
        …And serenity cast her to sleep

The waking is slow… She needs her beauty sleep! "…X'Hal," Breathed out while a hand rubs across her eyes and the sleeping Princess rises with protesting!

The smile is there, though, as Kori steps out of the villa - thumbs rolling over the red stones of Tamaran in memoriam…
    Memento Mori…

But then as she walks out to join Kyle her hair is pulled back, drawn into fists and fingers nimbly work it into a braid to tame that /hot mess/. The smile flashed his way gives a flicker of teeth, a tilt of eyes, a full show there and gone before her head tilts towards the temple, a hand extended towards his, that vembrace of opalescent lilac and silver bleeding a darker amethyst when in the suns light.. The red gem flashing its own heat.

Rarely smug, the face that Kyle Rayner reserves for 'memory' mode is two-phased:
The first? Koriand'r is seeing in the present, a mildly pleasured mien of a cat about to be delivered a mouse for beating around a kitchen floor. The other? It's the same face he makes when he sketches. Somewhere between a hrmm and a interesting, with his lower lip bunching up around his lower teeth, tongue pressing as if a whad of chewing tobacco was in place.

The other, he makes as she approaches him. Briefly triple-checking a holographic reading from his ring. A staccato of waves roll in the cone-shaped arena of light, then suck back down into the tiny, powerful ring when she offers her hand.

"We're still good." Kyle reassures her, sliding his palm over hers before taking her fingers into his. The full force of her smile punches him in the lips, forcing them back in a suddenly sheepish, glowing smile that he has to growl into to force his mouth into some semblance of professionalism.

The flight over the city is a short one. Merely a few minutes of coasting over cone-shaped buildings and walkways made out of the black sand packed into stones. The azure-skinned inhabitants of the planet mill about in iridescent skirts, not unlike those seen upon images of ancient Egypt. Their peaceful, blue skin is a shocking color match for the blood-red hair upon their heads, many strands capped with bronze adornments and religious trinkets.

The colossal, black temple ahead of them is pillar-lined and ends in a building comprised of four open-air structures protected by one large dome. The torches, kept burning at all times, flicker white flames, lighting the path to the High Priestess Koora. She waits for them, flanked by her male and female acolytes who wear the simple, white-cotton robes that she does.
    Only, she has a staff in her hands, standing tall like an Amazonian, beautiful in her ethereal alien manner, with her face blanketed entirely by streams of thin, golden fibers hanging over her eyes from a circlet above her brow.

"Lantern Rayner. Starrr-fiar." She rights her staff and dips her head in a sign of respect in their final approach. "We have consulted the mists and have foreseen your arrival this day." Her hand presses to her mouth, then her forehead. "I pray the winds have been sisterly."

Starfire catches that look, she saw it one morning…
Sketching her or the memories she had shared, she did not care as her eyes slit open to him and that focused state…
    Starfire smiled…

Her head tilts lightly, that same look upon him now as then, her hands as fingers work rapidly to set things in place, twisting the final captured strand of red, left out, into a knot to hold it all together like a rope, all it lacked was the flowers from a lei

When they arrive Starfire still… Seems at home here, and just like day one, her fingers trail over pillars, over stone, even tips dare the flames like a child testing every fabric placed before her.. Eyes even widen as reactions come accordingly.

.. Down to Koora… Only then does she stop searching, her dragging press to look at, and *touch* everything. Spine straightens, almost ram-rod, her hand then slowly falls from Kyles, but not in a manner to hide, to press palms together, the steeple of fingers touching brow in her own bend that rises to touch tip of nose, then lips. Her natural demeanor surfacing, that Princess with no Kingdom.

"Your hospitality has been exceeding," A glance to Kyle with a smile as she draws back to right. "I have found peace here." Speaking for herself, but that glance says enough.

"Good Morning, High Priestess." Kyle's fingers twitched against the last touch of Koriand'r's fingertip. A .00002 second extra of lasting connection before his fingers came down to his side. A space cop, Kyle is no prince or politician, so he dips his head a little lower than Koora does to them. He'll thank the Japanese later for teaching him how to return a little respect more than offered. His eyes scrape briefly to Starfire, then to the priestess. "The winds have been sisterly, and your people have been very kind. It's been…breathtaking, in a word."

Kyle takes the first step forward and looks to Koriand'r. He leans into his step, nodding in signal to her as his ring lights up, displaying the seismic and solar readings one more time.

"We have tested your star and gathered the seismic readings." Kyle clears his throat, suddenly careful in his delivery. His experience has been so spiritual that he'd never considered that technically a thousand year lifespan of the planet isn't good news. "Arailoo is not dying." Kyle announces. "Your earthquakes are not a sign of imminent danger."

High Priestess Koora breathes a sigh of relief, as do the acolytes around her, whispering prayers under their breathes. The priestess, however, after years of memorizing scripture, does not smile. Her chin tilts, picking up on the word imminent.

"But Arailoo is, in fact, in danger?" Koora asks the two of them. "Do I understand this, correctly?"

Kyle's words and their delivery as well as his own obeisance is fitting, but so is Koora's reaction to the news. A culture long-lived here… Their planet under the rays of not just one sun and moon, but many…
Clasped hands now extend out and splay fingertips, apologetic but asking for the openness she exposes herself to. "Imminent. We are looking… Will find a way if we have to. But it is far off, hundreds of years…" A glance to Kyle, and when she thinks of her home and her own life span it becomes a it more clear, making her eyes suddenly become downcast. But not in a way or manner of fealty, but in a manner of apology for the delivery. After a moment she looked up but remained /bowed/.
"There is time." But she will not speak for Kyle or his Lantern's.
    Or his leetle Bloo Bosses.

“There IS time, High Priestess. Who centuries, if not a millennia.” Kyle steps in quickly, following after Starfire’s words with a casual look of thanks cast her way. Picking up where she’s helped him find a tempo, he splays his fingers outwards in a display of peace, then brings both palms together in his own, prayer-like gesture.

    ”My mom and dad were totally Catholic.
        ”My dad’s…somewhere out there.”

“It’s a change in the gravity well formed by your local star, but we’re talking a change that’s so gradual that it would be microscopic even to a microscopic creature, but over the years, the orbit will degrade.” Kyle clears his throat and turns to stand in a triangular formation with Starfire in one corner, the Priestess and her acolytes in another. “Most cultures in this sort of situation don’t have nearly as long as Arailoo does to choose, to try to mitigate, to see what can be done. Which is why-”

Kyle looks pointedly to Starfire. His chin dips in resolution.

“I’m going to take this data back to Oa and see what can be done long before Arailoo feels it to a dangerous degree.” Kyle continues. “It’s not something that I know can be fully solved without science or power, or if in the end it will require any kind of relocation, but I can promise that I will be discussing with the Guardians what we can do about the solution you’re hoping for.”

Kyle blinks, and then slowly bows his head.

“Whichever solution that is the winds bring you to, of course, High Priestess.”

“Arailoo has many years beyond,” Once Kyle has spoken, Starfire’s own lowered tilt of brow rises slowly toward the Priestess, but does not connect directly out of reverence. “But the heat, the pressure on the plates of your world, of the magnetic readings my…

Kyle… Green.. Lantern..
Starfire blinks slowly and closes her eyes, the smile not fully fading, becoming… serene.

“There is a pressure that causes the readings because of the /time/…
Time stops for none of us.” Starfire finally opens her eyes. “With these readings… There is a hope. A shard. The Lanterns have it all, and as we speak they seek answers. No matter..”

A pause and Star looks towards Kyle while he speaks alongside her, the assurance one that purses lips and makes her smile a bit more full.

“You and your people have par-lives to live before it is concern, truly, Priestess. This will find aid as long as the same peace and desire remains to pass on for you and yours.” Starfire in that made her own accord. Beside Lanterns or passed along in data loaded upon her ship - when hands come together this time those enflamed gems inset upon vambraces flicker and offset against her skin, but also accent it in the meaning.

“This news is…” Koora twists the bottom of her speaking staff against the sand next to her bare, four-toed feet. “…a blessing and a warning all in the same.” Hesitating over her words, she turns her side to the two, looking to snow-capped mountains hundreds of miles away, distant and lording over the sea. “But you've given us answers that we may use to consult the winds, bind together as brothers and sisters, and look to the future. The wind is ever changing.”

“The wind-”
“-is ever-changing”
A prayer, her acolytes repeat with her, a well known scripture.

Koora turns to Starfire and Koriand’r. Her bare feet move towards them, staff crunching in the sand as she paints a line to stand between the two. She reaches out with her four-day hands, leaving the staff leaning against her shoulder like a shepherd's crook.

“Please. Speak with the Guardians and send them our winds.” Koora presses her hands to their upper arms and bows her head. “I fear we may need as many of those years as we can gather.”

Kyle, with a faint look of concern flashed Starfire's way, places his hand over Koora’s and bows his head, returning whatever alien form of hug or dismissal or prayer this is. He calls back to his childhood, the Sundays spent in a little man outfit with a clip-on tie and brown dress shoes.

“We will, High Priestess. I will miss Alairoo while I am away.” Kyle replies. “Peace be with you.”

When the embrace ends, Kyle looks to Starfire, and the quiet look cast her way is silent language for words left unsaid.

It's time to go.

Fingers had parted for the meeting with their High Priestess, the Leader of this planet where people find will in bowing to her…

The extended hand of one taken by Kyle, Starfire, takes the other, the knuckles of indigo palm lifted to her forehead while fingertips are kissed and even in departure Kori remains bowed until her hip meets Kyles.

“Word is bind,” A breath and when Kyle states his finite word of departure there is a moment of sorrow… That emerald gaze casts to the rippling waters, the forests of noir skin… The contrast…

A hand extends to seek Kyle’s - almost needy, but that clutch that may find his…
    Couples an assurance.
        She trusts them….

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