Grand Moff Tarkin (
grand_mf) wrote in
lastvoyageslogs2016-04-20 12:59 pm
Entry tags:
Don't Lie To Me; I Can See Right Through You
Who: Tarkin, open!
When: During the empathy flood
Where: All around the ship, and possibly in your cabins because he's invasive like that.
What: Tarkin finds out he has the ability to detect lies. He immediately puts this to use and interrogates half the Barge
Fear is a familiar feeling to Tarkin. Not his own, of course; he's felt apprehension and concern, but never outright fear for his life, not even as a child. But other people's fear; this is something to which he's grown accustomed.
He walks through the Barge, sensing passengers' growing unease and dread with as much consideration as he might give to a weather report. It's a strange sensation, but he takes a few days to grow used to it, allowing it to consume him rather than fight it, as some seem to be doing. Intruding thoughts, most likely from his own, new warden, constantly surface, but he considers it most like a holonet call he cannot hang up.
Others passing by Tarkin might be struck with how ruthless, annoyed, and disgusted he feels on a low level from day to day, where it concerns his position on this ship, the Admiral, or the other passengers themselves. Either way, he makes no secret at how irritating he finds this whole situation, and there may be one or two spikes of outright loathing where it concerns certain named individuals. Aside from that, there's a decisive lack of empathy, period. He might be considered an emotional black hole, unable to muster up a care for whomever crosses his path. There's an overwhelming sense of how insignificant one's life is, when they approach Tarkin.
He discovers his other, more favored power completely by accident. One warden asking another;
How are you?, and the second responding
Fine.
You're lying, he thinks.
No; he knows.
Suddenly made aware of this newfound change, Tarkin is careful to test it out first on one or two pointless, meaningless topics with whomever he can find, before he begins to make his way through the Barge to interrupt key individuals before the flood has a chance to end.
When: During the empathy flood
Where: All around the ship, and possibly in your cabins because he's invasive like that.
What: Tarkin finds out he has the ability to detect lies. He immediately puts this to use and interrogates half the Barge
Fear is a familiar feeling to Tarkin. Not his own, of course; he's felt apprehension and concern, but never outright fear for his life, not even as a child. But other people's fear; this is something to which he's grown accustomed.
He walks through the Barge, sensing passengers' growing unease and dread with as much consideration as he might give to a weather report. It's a strange sensation, but he takes a few days to grow used to it, allowing it to consume him rather than fight it, as some seem to be doing. Intruding thoughts, most likely from his own, new warden, constantly surface, but he considers it most like a holonet call he cannot hang up.
Others passing by Tarkin might be struck with how ruthless, annoyed, and disgusted he feels on a low level from day to day, where it concerns his position on this ship, the Admiral, or the other passengers themselves. Either way, he makes no secret at how irritating he finds this whole situation, and there may be one or two spikes of outright loathing where it concerns certain named individuals. Aside from that, there's a decisive lack of empathy, period. He might be considered an emotional black hole, unable to muster up a care for whomever crosses his path. There's an overwhelming sense of how insignificant one's life is, when they approach Tarkin.
He discovers his other, more favored power completely by accident. One warden asking another;
How are you?, and the second responding
Fine.
You're lying, he thinks.
No; he knows.
Suddenly made aware of this newfound change, Tarkin is careful to test it out first on one or two pointless, meaningless topics with whomever he can find, before he begins to make his way through the Barge to interrupt key individuals before the flood has a chance to end.

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But in any event, Han is not particularly happy at the moment, given he'd just as soon not have the powers at all—a feeling that's only going to increase if Tarkin decides to stop and talk to him.
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Not bothering to sit down, he pauses on the opposite side of the table as Han, seemingly having walked by before noticing him. He observes the other man, reaching out to him to sense his emotions, before smiling.
"You seem troubled, Solo."
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"Kiss my Wookiee," he replies mildly, before raising a forkful of mashed potatoes to his mouth.
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"Deflecting will not prevent me from seeing the truth."
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"Evening sir."
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He gives a passing nod to the Bull in return.
"Good evening. I trust you're weathering this storm well?"
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Second, and less flatteringly, she wonders if he underestimates her, that men tend to with women, and furthermore, that ruthless and manipulative people tend to with people who hold to principles. She wonders if she'll tell him about the bodies she's walked over in her time, or if that's maybe a fight that she doesn't want to win- why should he make her feel she wants to prove an occasional lack of integrity? He's older than she is, she'll have to watch that impulse to perform for him.
He's actually old enough she wonders how he'll do in a fight, if the undead do rise this coming month in this land they're going to, and they have to deal with something like the zombies. She'll kill for him, already, unflinchingly- will put herself between him and anything that could try to come for her, because he's her inmate and she takes this work ferociously seriously, but she rather hopes he can hold his own.
(All this takes the span of a few short seconds to flit across her mind, and his- she's a smart woman, a fiercely quick thinker, with a coppery, deliberate shrewdness to her and a vivid eye for detail.)
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She's far more tolerable to him than most, and instantly another woman is called immediately to mind; Q'anah, a pirate queen from his teenage years. Furiosa may be lacking an arm, but Q'anah had had both arms and a leg replaced with artificial limbs, as well as an additional ocular implant. She pirated trade ships with her fleet of stolen vessels, commanding her sons around to do her bidding.
And he caught her and threw her into a sun.
He's starting to catch onto Furiosa's own thoughts about him now, and even the less flattering ones make him smile. Tarkin is not devoid of self-awareness; he knows he is old, and cannot fight as he used to. He had hoped he had been at the point of his career where it would have never been expected of him to fight. He will if pressed, but he feels deserving of a retirement from a life of physical combat.
That Furiosa has killed before leaves no surprise or even impression on him; he would have hoped the Admiral would have given him someone who has killed before, otherwise how would they have ever gotten along?
But the thought he sends back to her is clear;
Your sex is no issue with me, Furiosa. I see you for your actions, not for your biological features.
And this is true.
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That near miss with rage through, she breathes in, breathes out, and is calm.
When new inmates come aboard, they warn them not to tell lies because of floods like these. This is my first, though.
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Not that he can hide the fact Tarkin doesn't trigger a whole lot of his hopeful side. Hatred is an alien emotion to Luke, for the most part, but he finds it more difficult to summon up understanding for someone as callous in his actions as Tarkin.
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Which is immediately erased by a stern smile and a promise of pain in the future.
"Skywalker."
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But the attachment to the past? That's just confusing. Luke has no way of knowing whether or how much he resembles his father--no record exists of the man he'd been.
"Tarkin," he says, picking up quite well on the threat. That, too, is something of a relief--he knows he believes Tarkin wants to try something, but the man's been oily and diplomatic about it, so far.
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This doesn't stop him from raising a hand in polite greeting.
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He nods in return, without smiling.
"Ravel."
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"Enjoying the flood? This is your first one, right?"
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Dining Hall
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"Good evening."
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"Evening," is all he says, because the table is open but he's not inviting him. Nothing personal, of course.
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Arthas' scowl doubles. He's projecting enough irritation and boredom without anyone else walking by him in the hall and giving him some of theirs, too.
"Just keep your distance," he snaps.
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"You wish to command me?"
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It doesn't take much for his perpetual low level of anger to rear up into a completely horrible mood all around. This is true any day, it's just a lot more visible now.
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Whether or not Tarkin's noticed, or whether or not he means to be right outside her door when she opens it, she's not expecting him. She yelps, taking a step back into the horrid little rathole she has a cabin, alarmed and defensive.
"Jesus! Can I help you?"
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He glances up when her door opens, looking briefly from her face, to the cabin, and back again.
"Perhaps. Who are you?"
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"Zinzi December. And perhaps you could back it up a little, huh?"
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