The Very Secret Diary of Arani Korden

[Arani Korden]

PREFACE - I'm a player in the very long-running Star Wars Iconic Characters Play-By-Post game here on the boards. (If you're wondering why the thread's so short, we've just started a new adventure and thus, a new thread.)

In the past, I've written occasional fake diary entries related to the ongoing adventure. Sometimes they're silly, sometimes they're an attempt to be profound, and sometimes they're just me killing time while waiting for the game to pick up again. It's really self-indulgent, but I also find it to be an interesting writing exercise. This time around, though, I'm putting the diary in its own thread so that I don't clutter up the main adventure thread.

And by the way, if you're reading this and you don't follow the SWIC thread, maybe you should. Not only will the diary make more sense, but the main thread's got action, adventure, a surprising amount of romance, and giant underwater snake wrestling. What more could anyone ask for?

 

[Arani Korden]

I should be asleep. I was asleep ten minutes ago, in fact. But I'm awake now, and since I have to get up in an hour to leave for our Secret Mission sleep seems less and less likely.

I had another dream. About him. Which is stupid, since after thirteen years I'm still dreaming about a man who disappeared on the day when I needed him most, a man who is almost certainly dead by now along with the rest of his order, but there he was. Large as life and twice as natural, standing in a field of flowers which I remember from the family estate outside of Theed. Of course he disappeared as soon as I started to speak to him. Bastard.

Forget it. I can hear Vor'en moving around outside my door. Better to just get the day started.

 

[Arani Korden]

Am in a box. Deel will pay.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

(Just posting so you know someone's reading, and is amused.)

 

[Arani Korden]

(Just posting so you know someone's reading, and is amused.)

Thanks!

And I'll spend the rest of the post playing with attachments. My diary shall have pictures!

 

[Arani Korden]

They say that you can't go home again. It's not true, of course; after the Liberation, I did go home again. Helped with the reconstruction, played the dutiful daughter, even got engaged (and we all know how well that turned out.) Going home again is not a problem. I go home again all the time.

And then Deel contacted me. And I'm beginning to wonder if you can leave home again. I wasn't exactly a smashing success as a swashbuckling space adventurer the last time. But somebody has to do something, so here I am in a box. I just hope "hide behind Vor'en" continues to be a valid combat tactic.

 

[Arani Korden]

Just doing a little clean-up. All out of character posts are now in glorious italics! And I'm adding a picture of Lady Soraya Korden, AKA Arani's mother.

 

[Arani Korden]

I'm not sure what to say.

Reports of the brutal efficiency of the Jedi Purge have been greatly exaggerated. Palpatine missed at least two, and since those two were both people that I personally went to school with, odds are there are more survivors out there somewhere.

Even on a purely symbolic level, this is wonderful news. It means that the New Order makes mistakes. It means that the bad guys haven't won yet, and that there's a chance that I'll be able to help. It means I'm not just wasting my time sitting in the back of a repulsor truck waiting for Kelko to hotwire the engine so we can escape before we're all caught and executed.

On a personal level it's . . . good . . . news. It appears that age can not mellow Set, nor can custom stale his infinite variety of ways to piss me off. If anything, he's even more of a pain in the neck than before. Not that I can entirely blame him, since I can't even begin to imagine what he's been through the past few years.

And Dorn. Also not dead. And I'm not sure what I feel about that. He managed to hurt me more deeply than anyone else ever has, before or since, but I didn't want him to die. Over the years I've forgiven his memory, gotten used to having his ghost flit through my thoughts, and now here he is, as large as life and twice as natural.

I remember him being taller.

And when I look at him I feel something. Is it the memory of betrayal? or the memory of something else?