Celebrity (for senateur)

[whatimust]

Obi-Wan has never been one to follow the lives and exploits of celebrities. He's even less inclined to follow politics. Unfortunately, those are the two arenas he tends to find himself working in. Which may be why, when given the chance, he ignores both entirely; because all too often, he finds himself having to scrutinize tiny details about a whole host of celebrity or political lives and machinations. And all the things he has to study wind up cluttering up the back of his mind months, sometimes even years later. It's aggravating.

Until the day he's contacted by none other than Grand Master Yoda, requesting his service in protecting Amidala, a fast-rising singer and celebrity activist in the political arena. If it hadn't been Yoda himself making the request, Obi-Wan would have denied it straightaway. But in his days of growing up in the Temple, he'd noticed something he wasn't sure many others were aware of: Master Yoda was a meddling little troll. He toed the line of the Jedi Code and rules, but he would quite frequently - well, to put it frankly, he'd stir shit up, to see how everyone else would react.

For that alone, Obi-Wan had fond memories of the Master, and when said Master asked that he take this job, as it wasn't right for the Jedi Order themselves, Obi-Wan had agreed. He was wary about why Yoda wanted him to take it, but intrigued enough that he went along with it anyway.

Thus Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi Initiate and current freelance security detail and bodyguard, found himself once again immersing himself in the life of a celebrity. Not just any celebrity, either; one interested in politics. It was like his two worst nightmares had come together and had a hideous, soul-devouring baby.

It takes Obi-Wan close to 2 days to learn absolutely everything he can about the public (and quite a lot of the private) life of the singer and political activist known as Amidala. Her real name is Padmé Naberrie, and she'd achieved a meteoric rise to stardom at a young age; at the age of 24, she has her hand in practically every aspect of her business and brand, not only writing her own music, but creating her performance costumes, designing and approving merchandise, what her own name is associated with, and so on. From what he can tell, she's always been this much of a control freak, but in the past years, as her fame has grown, she's given more and more pronounced political opinions as well, speaking out against slavery in the Outer Rim, poverty on hundreds of 'civilized' worlds, and a dozen other things besides.

It's from the dossier that Master Yoda has sent him that he learns that someone has taken exception to what she's been saying, and has targeted several attacks against her. The first was reported to the media as a minor malfunction in her starship's hyperdrive, forcing them to land unexpectedly, or risk a 'catastrophic malfunction' - read between the lines: it would have exploded. In another, an unfortunate fire in the glamorous hotel she just happened to be staying at during a tour. The last was reported as 'staging malfunctions' during a performance, causing some of the overhead light rigging to collapse onto the front of the stage, injuring a few audience members, as well as critically wounding one of Amidala's back-up singer/dancers, also known as her 'handmaidens.'

Force take it, Obi-Wan hated celebrities.

Arriving at the apartments that Amidala was currently residing in on Coruscant, Obi-Wan's opinion begins to waver as he sees several very beautiful women doing various daily things; they are all lithe, with brown hair and porcelain skin. He may enjoy this assignment after all.

Introducing himself to Amidala's manager is simple and straightforward, and Obi-Wan has no compunction to correct the man when he says he's grateful the Jedi Council agreed to send one of their very own to guard the singer. It's true, from a certain point of view, at any rate - Obi-Wan was taken as an infant by the Jedi, raised by them... the fact he's not an active Jedi isn't really relevant, since he has all the necessary skills to be one: he merely lacks the desire to be.

And then he is taken to meet the woman herself, and Obi-Wan has to say, the holo-vids didn't do her beauty justice. She's sat in a study, working on a datapad and staring intently at whatever is on its screen, and she currently looks more like an accountant than a teenage boy's wet dream, but there's still something... something about her.

Then she glances up, catches sight of his lightsaber, and scowls, and he realizes this is going to be very fun, indeed.

A pleased smile curls over his recently-shaved face, and Obi-Wan bows as Sio Bibble introduces him.

Comments

[senateur]

Ten years. It seems like it's gone by in the blink of an eye, and looking back, she can scarcely believe how events had led her to this place in her life. In her youth, she'd thought of having a career in public service, giving her all to make the galaxy a better place -- she'd never even considered performance art until a scout had invited her to an audition. She'd taken Sola with her, the both of them considering it as nothing more than a fun way to pass an afternoon, but within a week she'd been offered a contract and an entirely different way to make her voice heard.

Performing was something she enjoyed, the stage not at all as terrifying as it could be for others, but it was the opportunity for change that she eagerly embraced. To be an empowering influence on the people of the galaxy and use whatever sway she might have to bring attention to important issues that so rarely saw the light of day. So she threw herself into the work, training like her life depended on it and insisting that she have a say in every aspect of her career. It was that attention to detail that guided her forward, everything carefully crafted to send the message she wanted.

Seven years in, she was finally in a position to do something. Campaigns to raise awareness of economic disparity even on Core worlds, the abhorrent slave trade still thriving in the Outer Rim, the unethical practices of the Trade Federation. She met with Senators and local government representatives when she visited planets while on tour, aided in relief efforts when natural disasters threatened indigenous populations, and constantly visited hospitals and schools wherever she went.

That was when the threats began in earnest. She'd always had a few fans whose adoration reached unhealthy levels, but those were nothing compared to the vitriol she received when she spoke out and a fan disagreed. The first threats against her life were jarring, but her security detail assured her there was nothing to worry about so long as they followed usual precautions. In the years that followed, though, those threats became more tangible as she became more outspoken, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was beginning to finally ruffle powerful feathers. Determined to not let anything keep her from doing the work she needed to do, she continued forward--

Until the 'accidents' began. Until Sorché was injured. Until it became apparent that there was no way forward except to face her attackers head-on.

A Jedi bodyguard is not what she'd had in mind. When Sio had informed her of the arrangements, she'd been outraged, insisting there had to be some other way, but the man had, as always, made a very convincing argument and so here they are. Her trying to concentrate on the stage schematics for her next concert and him arriving with that smile that made her want to shove him right back out that door. She doesn't though, instead taking a deep breath before turning her attention to her manager who's looking a bit nervous; the man knows just how stubborn she can be.

"Thank you, Sio, we can take it from here," she informs him, setting aside her datapad and standing. The older man gives a hesitant glance between them and her edge softens just a little as she assures him, "He'll be fine, I promise."

It's only at that reassurance that her manager takes his leave, closing the door behind him to give them some privacy. Turning her full attention to the man, she takes brief notice of how handsome he is (good, he'll fit the part well) before gesturing to the chairs available beside the couch where she'd been working. "Please, have a seat."

[whatimust]

When Bibble starts to look nervous, Obi-Wan is intrigued, but not entirely surprised, given how controlling Amidala seems to be.

His eyes light up when she promises that he'll be fine, and his smile trembles at the edges with how hard he's resisting a full-blown grin of delight. Being in charge of the person used to being in charge is always fun, but something tells him he's going to enjoy this even more than usual, and hidden by the long sleeves of his robe, Obi-Wan has to clench his hands into fists at his sides to contain his excitement. He's beginning to understand why Yoda suggested this detail to him.

Giving a small, only slightly mocking bow at her request - more like politely-worded order - Obi-Wan settles in one of the chairs and, with some effort, manages to tamp down his delight at how well this meeting is already going. He tilts his head and slightly widens his eyes innocently as he leans forward to give her his full attention. "It's a great privilege to meet you, Amidala." He's sure it is; he's also sure he doesn't care one whit about said privilege, but it's always good to start these things off with a compliment.

[senateur]

Padmé has never been one with a penchant for physical violence, but she longs to smack that smile right off this man's face. Lives are at stake and he's finding this amusing? Taking her own seat, she folds her hands in her lap and gives him a look laced with steel when he uses her stage name.

"It shouldn't be," she informs him, irritation coloring her voice. "I'm just another client. The only privilege is how much I'm paying for your services, for which I've been assured you are worth every credit." She's trying very hard not to doubt that at the moment. "So if you're quite through with any attempts at flattery, I'd prefer to get down to business. If you don't mind."

[whatimust]

Oh dear. It appears he's struck a nerve. He's starting to wish he hadn't shaved his beard, it made it much easier to bite his lip without being noticed. Instead, he digs his nails into his palm, reminding himself to breathe slow and evenly. It's been a while since he's needed to really project a true Jedi persona of seriousness, it's harder than he remembers.

He does appreciate that she understands he's not here to be another sycophant, at least. Bowing his head both in understanding and self-mockery, he says candidly, "I will assure you as well, the price is absolutely worth it. As for the flattery - I find it works best to get off on the right foot with a client, because soon enough they will realize I'm here to tread all over them." He does look genuinely sorry for that; it's not exactly that he likes disrupting people's lives, but-- well, he's never liked a certain type of person, usually one used to authority, and it is satisfying being able to humble them a little, and watch them bluster even as they realize what he's saying makes sense.

Obi-Wan might have an issue with authority figures.

[senateur]

She doesn't believe that stoic persona one bit, but she's not quite sure what he's concealing. Of course, she could make all sorts of speculations, but what purpose would that serve? Undoubtedly, she'll find out his true nature soon enough.

"And how exactly do you intend to tread on me?" she questions, making her displeasure clear despite knowing it won't make any difference. "I believe you've already been briefed on my schedule and general plans for the next few weeks." They were extensive, but she didn't do things in half measure.

[whatimust]

"Yes. And that's exactly what will end up trodden on." The amusement that's been below the surface falls away, as apparently they're getting right down to business. Ah, well. He'll have plenty of time for amusement over the next however-long this job takes, he's sure. "I need more than just a brief. I need to go over every detail with your security - and apparently you, as you seem to approve absolutely everything that happens - and adjust anything I think could pose a danger."

Pressing his lips together, he leans back, watching her. It's hard to get a read on her, he so rarely has a client who seems so competent in the aspects of their job. "I will try to be as discreet as possible, but with three obvious attacks already - and I believe there have been more, that have been missteps, minor things that were chalked up as true accidents, probably toward the beginning - there is no margin for error, if you want to stay safe -- and I'm thinking more importantly, keeping your performers and fans safe, as well."

He may not have a full read on her personality yet, but he's not an idiot. It was her handmaiden being injured that pushed her into hiring him, and given her political views on equality, she cares about the masses, including her fans.

[senateur]

Every detail. Well, it's good that she isn't paying him by the hour, because it'll take more than a few to cover every aspect of her daily routine, practice and performance schedule, and the preparations for her next concert. Not to mention the interviews and publicity shoots in the interim.

His words hit the mark just as he's intended. She does care about the others involved, a great deal and far more than she cares about her own safety. Were it just herself at risk, she would never have consented to hiring outside security, but as it is... Taking a deep breath, she straightens her back and returns to her calm, professional demeanor.

"You're correct, I do approve everything, from hiring and training to scheduling and costuming," she confirms for him. "This is not just my job, it's my life, and there are hundreds of people who depend on my success for their livelihood. I am willing to consider all of your suggestions," note her particular word choice there, "but I refuse to sacrifice the quality of what we produce."

[whatimust]

Oh, he notes the word choice, and can't help smiling again. (At some point he's sure she'll try to claw the smile off his face; she wouldn't be the first to try it, after all. For some reason, he seems to have that effect on people.)

"And your life, and the continuation thereof, isn't just my job, it's my reputation - which, in my line of work, is also my life. So!" He claps his hands together. "I'm glad we've got that sorted, then. Shall we go over every single, minute detail that you so painstakingly oversee?"

[senateur]

Oh, she's most definitely going to end up doing something about that irritating smile of his. There's no question of if, only when.

She stares at him for a long moment, as if preparing to shoot him down and order him out of the room. Instead, she finally sighs softly and stands, moving to the door to open it and step outside. He'll be able to overhear her instructions to the staff at work in the main room — a request to reschedule her appointment for that evening and instructions for everyone to head home, she'd see them all in the morning.

Returning to the study, she retrieves two datapads and, calling up the same information on both, hands one to him. "We'll begin with tomorrow's schedule."

[whatimust]

If she thinks she's going to stare him into submission, she's going to be sorely disappointed. He's been glared at by the best, and Padmé 'Amidala' Naberrie can't hold a candle to Mace Windu in a fit. So Obi-Wan just sits patiently, and allows himself a smug little smile after she's outside giving her instructions.

But once Padmé is back, he merely smiles blandly at her, which turns into a happy nod of approval and thanks as she hands him the datapad. "Fantastic."

The next four hours are taken up by both of them painstakingly going over every - single - detail. Obi-Wan actually quite gets into it, and once he does, his annoyingly chipper and genial manner drops, revealing a sharp, quick mind, and an attention to detail that's somewhat staggering. He appreciates how thorough Padmé has been, but as he sees things from a safety and security angle, and it's literally his life's work, he peppers her frequently with questions, which makes things drag to a crawl sometimes as they go back and forth over specific set-ups and timing, positions of her personal security, and so on.

Once it's over, he'll realize he's quite enjoyed himself, but in the moment, Obi-Wan's mind is solely focused on the agenda.

[senateur]

As the hours crawl by, Padmé finds that she likes him much better when he actually shows his competence and isn't getting under her skin with his irritatingly persistent cheer. He really does have an eye for detail, and she's glad to admit that he seems to know exactly what he's doing when it comes to security measures. By the time they've reached the end of her three-week projected schedule, she's thankfully become reassured that he's the best man for the job.

The process wasn't without it's hiccups, of course. While she was willing to compromise on positioning of security personnel and allowing more time for transit between locations to account for additional precautions, she refused to alter any of her training schedules or the timeline of preparation for her upcoming concert. It was the point on which she was adamant that if he wanted allowances and certain types of access, he would simply have to find creative ways of getting them.

"Perhaps we should finish this particular discussion tomorrow," she finally proposes, sensing that things would just be unproductive and tense should they continue on their current path. "It's getting late, and aerial choreography can be dangerous if one is properly alert."

[whatimust]

She may think he'd have to get creative - and he will, most assuredly - but Obi-Wan is equally as sure that she won't like his creative measures, several of which he already has forming in the back of his mind.

However, when Padmé calls a halt to the meeting, he finds himself sitting back with a groan, reaching up with the heels of his hands to rub at his eyes, where a stress headache has started to form from staring at the datapad for so long. "Yes, probably a good idea."

And now he's back to grinning annoyingly at her. "I can't wait to watch you go flying tomorrow." There's just enough edge to his smile that it's hard to tell if he enjoys the idea of seeing the actual performance rehearsal - or if he's referring to wanting to throw her across the room, so that he can get on with his bloody job without such aggravating interference.