Either you are clairvoyant, DARTH_MU, or I am very predictable!

Look out for a cameo appearance from a beloved Fanficcer pet! Anyone spot him?

* * *
This week, on Keeping Up With the Calrissians… Shami springs her trap!

The next morning, Mel picked her way cautiously across the yard. The birdseed was spread thickly and rolled underfoot. There were also hundreds of birds, which she was afraid of stepping on. They swirled and eddied around her feet, but were too busy gobbling down the feed to bother moving much. She recognized the flits and the swifts, common, small creatures with gray-brown feathers. Others, though, were rarer… black droptiffs, with blue-tipped wings; fat bernows, with the distinctive white bands around their necks, gold and white insos, known for their songs, and the colorful green agis with yellow spots. There were a few other species which she couldn’t identify at all…the red ones with the black tails? The leggy gray ones with the long beaks? A really pretty blue one with a white head…

Mel pushed her way past the holoshills. She’d again taken extra care with her hair and makeup, and her outfit was a simple white shell over striped shorts.

“Lots of birds,” commented one of the reporters, a human male. “What’s the deal?”

Mel shrugged. “You’d have to ask her, I really don’t know.”

“Why are you visiting the neighbor?” asked another. “Are you house-sitting? She hasn’t been home for a few days.”

“It’s not really my place to discuss her business.” And then she was across the street, safely inside the gate of Mrs. Kendra’s yard. Pom-pom eyed her and opened his mouth, hissing at her. She kept her cool, although she kept her fingers well out of his reach while she put the food in the different bowls.

MEL: ‘Just hungry,’ my eye! He’s got it in for me! This is SO not worth 10 creds a week!

Duty done, she went home to breakfast. It wasn’t very appealing. A small scoop of Bantha yogurt and half a mujafruit. And a glass of cold green tea. No pancakes. No muffins. No smoked nerf sausage.

“Um, is this it?” she asked.

Ginni took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt us to shed a few pounds.”

Sarai sat at the table, frowning. “None of us are fat,” she said. “Certainly not you.”

“Well, Daddy will need a new diet when he comes home. Low fat, low calorie…”

“Low taste,” muttered Mel, tucking into the yogurt.

Shami came to the table, looked at the meal, then went into the kitchen. After a moment, she yelled, “Hey! Where are the muffins?”

“I…I tossed them. They were fattening.”

“What?”

Sarai looked at her sister. “I don’t think you should be wasting food like that,” she said gently, “especially not when we’re trying to stretch pennies. If you don’t want to eat them, you don’t have to. But I don’t think you should be worrying about what everyone else eats.”

Shami returned with a box of crackers and the rest of the yogurt, liberally topping up her bowl. “I put the caff on.”

GINNI: I know it’s not fair to expect them to diet along with me, but I really wish they’d be more supportive. Telling me I’m not fat and eating goodies in front of me really isn’t fair.

Sarai gently brushed Ginni’s shoulder. “Tell you what,” she said. “I was going to do a dance workout with Tess and Val later on. You can join us if you want.” Ginni winced. Mel was sympathetic. She personally hated exercise, and avoided it as often as she could. Dancing was kind of fun, though.

“Can I join you, too?” she asked.

“Sure, if you want. We’re going to do it in about an hour, then clean up and go see Dad.”

“Dad will be back tomorrow, right?” asked Tess, coming to the table. She looked down at the food, then looked around. Shami shoved the cracker box towards her.

“Yes,” said Sarai, “that’s what Azra said.”

“I can’t wait!”

“Me either,” said Ginni.

Mel put in an hour of sorting through her closets. She had managed to give up a rainbow striped belt she’d had when she was six, and an ugly purse that had been a gift from Shami. That was about it. She joined the others in the main living room. All the furniture had been pushed back against the walls, and Sarai blasted the speakers. It was fun, and a lot more intense than she’d thought. She was actually sweating when she was finished.

“That’s at least one muffin worth of calories!” said Tess, thumping Ginni on the shoulder. Ginni had collapsed on the couch, gasping for breath.

“Time to clean up,” said Val. “We need to go see Dad.” Shami grinned evilly, and went to peer out the window.

“Actually, I think it’s time to test the security system,” she said.

“The security system? What for?” asked her twin. Shami didn’t reply. She went to the main control panel and keyed in a code.

WONKWONKWONKWONKWONKWONKWONK!

The girls pressed their hands over their ears. Azra came running into the room.

“What in the Seven Hells?!” she shouted.

“Testing the alarm!” Shami shouted back.

“It works,” growled Azra, “now turn the damn thing off!” But Shami was whooping with glee. Mel looked out the window.

The security system activated both inside and outside the house, startling the birds. As they took flight, they did what frightened birds do…and the holoshills were directly in the flight path. The girls watched as they shouted and waved in disgust and dismay, trying to shield their equipment from the sticky bombardment, while the hovercams took the brunt.

“Oh, gross,” said Tess.

Azra frowned at Shami. “That was uncalled for,” she said.

“What? I was just testing the security system!”

The reporters were beating a retreat. The girls looked out at the yard in silence.

“It looks like Hoth out there,” said Mel. There was a good blanket of white on the path and grass.

Shami shrugged. “It’ll wash off,” she said.

“Then you had better go get a hose and get started,” said Val. “The rest of us are going to get cleaned up to go see Dad, and it had all better be gone by the time we get back.” Shami pouted and opened her mouth to argue, but Sarai placed her hand on her sister’s chest and shook her head. Shami reconsidered. Val’s mother was a bounty hunter, after all.

“All right,” she grumbled. “At least I got rid of them.”

“They’ll be back,” sighed Azra. “And in greater numbers.”

“And they won’t be happy,” added Ginni.


* * *

 

Mmmmm. Batha yogurt.

Yum

Well well. Home by tomorrow. Hopefully.

Yay! Hoth is still canon

You tell them Shami. It'll wash off. heh

 

Well, you already know that I’ve been reading this while I worked on the cover, but here I am finally to review! I just re-read the whole lot and caught up with last night’s entry, and this is shaping up to be one of my favourite fics ever.

I loved the description of the girls from the very first post, before the story even started, and I loved even more how you introduced them and established the family dynamics in the first episode. They all have very distinct personalities, and re-reading the detailed description of each one in episode 2 I’m also very happy with the choices we made for the cover I’m becoming particularly attached to Ginni – what with her plans to become a cook, and then her concerns about her weight (the “Miss Nal Hutta contest” had me laughing out loud, can I borrow it for a fic with You-Know-Who?)

And Mel. Oh Mel. Between her concern about her makeup on camera, her inability to sort out her clothes and her brave attempts at pet-sitting... I could just imagine her listening to Mrs Kamba who was droning on and on about her torties and her great-grandchildren. It was nice to see Kess again too – and interesting to see that, on the one hand, she’s already more grounded than Mel, but she has a reckless streak too.

So Lando was involved a pyramid scheme with Hondo Ohnaka, eh? Why am I not surprised? But then I can’t wait to see how he adjusts to the “lifestyle changes” the doctor announced – I can’t really picture him doing cardio and taking pills, but with the seven girls around him it’s going to be, ahem, interesting.

And I love, love, love what you’re doing with the holoshills! Lando’s Lovelies Keep Deathwatch Vigil! No, really? Shami’s plan with the birds is so totally something I’d like to do someday. Hmmm... I probably need to become famous first though. But I’ll keep the idea in mind, just in case

Can’t wait to see how this story develops!

 

Hoth will ALWAYS be canon! Yeah, Shami is the 'bad girl.' Not sure I blame her!

Glad you're liking this, Chyntuck, especially with all the work you and Mr. Chyntuck have put into this! The cover is so amazing, I can't wait to share it. Today, things start to get crazy (these ARE the Calrissians, after all!) And feel free to borrow Miss Nal Hutta, especially if it leads to more wonderful Stories from the Salon!

* * *
This week on Keeping up with the Calrissians…changing the narrative

Dad was better. A lot better. Dr. Okan let them in to visit him all at once, rather than in twos, and they got twenty minutes, rather than just a few. The color was back in his face, and he had a lot more energy. They complained about the reporters, although they did not mention Shami’s retaliation. Lando shrugged.

“You can’t let them get to you,” he said. “They’ll just make up stuff anyway.”

“But they make it sound as if you’re dying!” said Mel.

“And I look fat,” mumbled Ginni.

“You’re not fat,” said Lando. “Everyone who knows you knows that.”

There was a tap on the door, and the lawyer, Mr. Bayron, came in, accompanied by a tall Nautolan woman, with bright, intelligent black eyes, who looked them all over with interest. Her skin was a pale gray, mottled with a few shadows of lavender, and she wore a severely tailored gown in a fabric of swirling blues and purples. The silver filigree armcuffs matched the delicate silver bands around her many headtails.

“Lando, ladies,” said Bayron.

“Davish, good to see you,” said Lando. “Who is your beautiful friend?” He flashed a smile at the woman, who smiled back.

VAL: She’s really not his type. But at least we know he’s feeling better!

“This is Wyla Alolu. She is the public relations expert I hired to help deal with the messages you and the girls were receiving.”

“Can you get rid of the media?” grumbled Azra. Wyla cocked her head thoughtfully.

“Do we want to?” she said cheerfully. The girls stared at her in disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t we?” asked Tess. “They’re horrible!”

“Gathering like corvies, with a deathwatch on Dad, following us around!” said Mel.

Val rolled her eyes. “Lando’s lovelies,” she said. Lando chuckled at that.

“Well, I can’t argue with the last part,” he said.

“Dad, they make us sound like helpless ninnies!” said Azra.

“And I am wondering why we are not using that to our advantage,” said Wyla. The girls turned to stare at her.

“Our advantage?” said Azra. “Printing lies about us? And Dad?”

Wyla shrugged. “They need to sell a story, and that’s the only story they’ve got right now. ‘General Lando Calrissian, hero of the Rebellion, is gullible enough to be taken in by a con man, and has a heart attack, while his beautiful daughters grieve helplessly by his bedside.’ ” She ignored the glares directed in her direction. “And yes, it is insulting. Which is why *I* am suggesting…take control of the narrative.”

The family exchanged a glance. “How do you mean?” asked Tess.

“Give them a different story. Instead of the tragi-drama they’re trying to sell, give them an inspiring story of family and resilience… ‘General Lando Calrissian, hero of the Rebellion, is betrayed by a trusted friend and suffers a health crisis, BUT… he rallies, with his beautiful and intelligent daughters backing him up, and rebounds stronger than ever.’ ”

The Calrissians digested that for a moment. “They tell the story we want them to tell,” mused Sarai. “We give them a different storyline.” Wyla beamed.

“Exactly!”

“How do we do that?” asked Mel.

“We start with a short press conference here at the hospital tomorrow. General, if you could just say a few words, and then again, if there’s anyone at the house tomorrow, just a word or so there. Just that you’re feeling great, and ready to get back to work, fixing things up.”

Val frowned, and looked at her father. “Your doctor wants you to continue to rest,” she said. “He wants you to avoid stress.”

Azra stepped closer to his bedside. “I can help out,” she said. “I *do* have a business degree, you know.”

Bayron cocked his head thoughtfully, and looked at Lando. “We can create a new corporation,” he said. “We can separate it completely from the old one, which is essentially bankrupt. Restructure as an LLC, and we can make all the girls stakeholders.”

Wyla nodded. “You girls are one of the biggest assets right now,” she said. They looked at her as if she was crazy.

“US?” said Ginni.

“Yes,” said Wyla, checking her datapad. “While there have been many messages of support for the General, as far as correspondence is concerned, you girls are actually getting the majority. 95% are messages of support, condolence, a lot of people saying that they are praying for your father to get well and they admire your solidarity in such a difficult family time.” She grinned. “Also, 763 proposals of marriage for Valissa, 644 proposals for Azra, 846 proposals for Sarai, 632 for Shami, 738 for Ginni and 1,246 for Tess. And 542 for Mel.”

The girls’ jaws dropped. “MARRIAGE proposals?” said Tess.

Lando chuckled. “How much are they offering?” he asked.

“Daddy!” They rounded on him. “This isn’t funny.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “It’s flattering to think that my daughters are in such demand. Not that it surprises, me, of course.”

“DADDY!”

“But you ARE in demand,” said Wyla. “I’m not talking marriage, now, I’m talking personal appearances and endorsements.” They looked at her blankly. “We’ve gotten a lot of offers for you to appear on discussion shows and news holos, guest appearances at clubs and resorts, modeling contracts, cosmetics companies…”

“But we’re not famous!” said Tess.

“You could be,” said Wyla. “You can make a lot of money. And all you have to do is be you.”

Lando cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “we don’t need to decide right away. It is a big decision, and you would lose a lot of privacy,” he said. “I want you to have the chance to make your own choices, not get sucked into having to be something you’re not just because you think it will help the business.” He looked at Bayron. “Set up a new company, restructure it as you said,” he said. “But I’ll take the spotlight,” he said. He turned to his daughters. “I’m used to being a public figure.” He leaned back against the pillows. Val eyed him and pursed her lips.

“As you said, we can decide later. You get some rest, and tomorrow you’ll be home. Come on,” she said, ushering everyone out into the corridor. “We love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Outside, Sarai looked at Wyla. “How do you mean, we could make a lot of money for appearances?” she asked.

“Well, for example… there’s a new restaurant opening here on Dubrillon this weekend, traditional Sacorran cuisine, and the owner would be thrilled if you showed up for the opening.”

Azra shook her head. “We can’t afford to eat out,” she said.

Wyla sighed, trying to be patient. “The owner, Dino Dinelli, would pay you… $7500 to walk in, pose for pictures with guests, maybe sign a few autographs, and of course, dinner is on him.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute!” said Mel. “Basically, we get dressed up, go out to parties, and they PAY us to do it? That’s all we have to do?”

“That’s right.”

Tess looked uncertain. “Can we keep our clothes on?” she asked.

“Of course!”

Mel looked at her sisters. “Seriously? WHERE DO WE SIGN?”


MEL: This can’t be happening! People make money doing this? I think I just found my dream job!

 

Ah....

Nothing can go wrong now.

Hah.

Nothing at all.

Hey how come Mel's marriage numbers is the lowest?

 

Love Melvina's voice in her commentaries on her sisters. Intrigued by the dynamics among them and especially between Azra and Val. Tess sounds exotically gorgeous! Oh, my, to be broke and have a serious health issue with the medical bills piling up!
Love the updates showing the sisters' resourcefulness and support from true friends. Mel is sweet with her dad. Ooooh, priceless trap Shami set there with the reporters!

Wyla's idea sounds a good one for generating publicity and taking charge of what the reporters say, but hmmm. I'm hoping they don't lose too much of their private lives. Always an unwelcome side of celebrity status.

 

Oh dear. It's going to become a lot more difficult to keep up with the Calrissians after this.

I absolutely love this Wyla Alolu and her "take control of the narrative" approach. As Mel said, she just found her dream job, and we're already one step closer to the Mel we met in Hobbie's Law (which, incidentally, makes me wonder if the time she spent in Maz's castle is going to be part of this fic?) I also enjoyed how Val still has the grounded approach to all this. I wouldn't be surprised if she (or her bounty hunter mother) voiced a few objections along the way.

But most importantly I'm waiting for Lando to come home and take control of the situation. This is going to be so much fun!

 

I would guess that it's because she's high maintenance. But that's just a guess.

 

Well, mostly it's cause she's only 16! But yeah, I can't imagine the guy she'd end up married to...

 

Okay... I know there was a hiatus. Blame the Sims! Actually, that's one of the reasons I was gone from FF so long originally...

Ha, ha! Well, obviously, these are LANDO's kids we're talking about!

I'm having fun with the family dynamics. I've only got one sibling, myself, but my father was the eldest of seven and some of my uncles have much larger families; it's been interesting over the years watching how those dynamics play out. But my family are nowhere along the family drama line as the Calrissians! Well, not since my grandmother's generation, anyway. I've heard stories ... Yes, the sudden public exposure should be fun to play with.

'Control' might be a bit optimistic! LOL! I'm looking foward to getting him back in the mix, too. But first...

* * *
This week on Keeping Up With the Calrissians… Adventures in Petsitting (part two)!

“Daddy’s coming home today, Daddy’s coming home today, Daddy’s coming home today!” Mel made up a little song as she got ready to go across the street and feed the torties. Keeping Wyla’s advice in mind—“Everytime you walk out that door, assume that someone’s got a lens trained on you!”—she dressed carefully, in a loose, summery flowered skirt and a short top in a vivid pink. She braided her hair in two long, thick braids, and coiled them on top of her head like a coronet.

“You ARE going to clean all this up before he gets home?” said Tess, frowning at the room. “I thought you were going to pick out some stuff to resell.”

“I did,” said Mel. “There.”

Tess held up the plastisack, and looked at the few items inside. “I think you’re going to have to better than this.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, later. The torties can’t wait!” She slipped on the low white ankle booties with the exposed toe, and cheerfully went outside along the path to Mrs. K’s house. There were three or four holoshill reporters there, with protective weather gear, who eyed her suspiciously as she went past. She smiled at them, and slowed her pace, as Wyla had advised, letting them get a few shots off.

“No birds today?” said one in a nasty tone.

“No, there aren’t,” said Mel. “I don’t what that was all about.”

“Don’t you?” muttered another. Mel flashed another smile, making sure it didn’t come off like a smirk, and went into Mrs. Kamba’s house. She cut up the fruit, and found the bag of dried insect parts. Telling herself that it wasn’t any different that the texture of dried cereal, she fed Tam-tam and Beezo, who advanced on the food with purpose. Then, steeling herself, she went to put a generous pinch in Pom-pom’s bowl.

The bowl was empty. No tortie. Mel frowned, and put down the bag of food. She checked the other two bowls, then lifted the leaves of the shady plant in Pom-pom’s bowl. Nothing. She looked around on the shelf that the bowl was placed on, and on the floor. No sign of a tortie.

Mel took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm, and put away the dried food. She put the fruit in the bowls, and began to walk around the room, checking under the chairs and tables, peeking into cupboards and on all the shelves, although she couldn’t imagine how he could get up there. Where was he? The tortie collection didn’t help. Once or twice she was sure she’d spotted him, but it was just a piece from the vast collections.

She washed her hands, and began to mist the plants, checking each one carefully to see if Pom-pom was hidden somewhere in the foliage. No sign of any tracks, or debris…what did tortie tracks look like any way? Finally, feeling a little sick, she put the mister away and took a last frantic look around. Pom-pom was gone.

MEL: I am in so much trouble! He did this deliberately! The little fink!

She ran home, trying to maintain the smile that Wyla had advised them to maintain in public, but underneath she wanted to scream or cry. Mrs. Kamba adored her pet, and now he was gone, run away! Maybe he was dead! And it was her fault!

She burst into the dining room where the girls had gathered for breakfast. Val and Azra were studying a datapad and arguing in whispers, Sarai and Tess had their heads together, talking, Ginni was poking morosely at a globefruit, and Shami was glowering at all of them over a cup of caff. She hadn’t been keen on the public relations proposal.

Mel took a deep breath. “Pom-pom is missing!” she said. Her sisters stared at her.

“What is a pom-pom?” asked Val.

“It’s the pet sitting job Sarai got me,” she said, glaring at the twin in question. “Mrs. Kamba’s torties! I went to feed them this morning and one is missing!”

“Did he crawl out of the bowl?” asked Sarai.

“I guess so, he’s not in it now.”

Tess yawned. “Well, he couldn’t have gotten very far,” she said. “Did you look on the shelves nearby?”

“Yes! I looked everywhere! I checked while I was misting the plants, since I had to do that anyway. Please, can you all help me find him? Pleeeeeease?”

“All right,” said Azra. “Eat breakfast first, then we’ll go over.”

“We can’t wait!” said Mel urgently. “What if he gets further away?”

Shami rolled her eyes. “Torties aren’t exactly distance sprinters,” she pointed out. “In the time it takes you to finish breakfast, he might maybe get as far as one whole meter.”

Tess pushed a basket of muffins towards Mel. “Come on, dig in,” she said. “No hunting on an empty stomach.”

MEL: They all agreed to come help me search again, and we remembered what Wyla told us. We all smiled and said good morning to the holoshills. Well, except for Shami. She’s not really thrilled about the PR idea, but she agree to go along with it. I think Sarai had a heart-to-heart. She didn’t say good morning, but she didn’t make any rude gestures, either. That’s sort of a win.

At the house, they all searched thoroughly, checking even the cleaning units and the waste disposal. There was no sign of Pom-pom.

“What will I do?” wailed Mel. “She’s going to kill me!”

“It’s not your fault,” said Sarai. “You did what you were supposed to, right?”

“You didn’t put the lid on the bowls?” asked Shami.

“There IS no lid! The bowls are supposed to be deep enough that they can’t climb out.” The girls considered the bowl for a few moments.

“We’ll buy her a new one, then,” said Shami.

“Yes!” said Ginni. “One that looks exactly like Pom-pom! She’ll never know the difference.”

“You cannot be serious!” said Azra, propping her hands on her hips. “Of course she’ll know.”

“This idea sounds familiar,” murmured Sarai. “Isn’t it what the Trixit Twins did when old Mr. Xo’lee’s tooka went missing?”

Ginni nodded. “Yes, The Mystery of Moonstar Lake! And he couldn’t tell the difference.”

“Who are the Trixit Twins?” asked Val.

“It was a series of books, mysteries for kids. There were three sets of twins who went around solving mysteries,” explained Sarai. “The eldest were identical boys, the second set were identical girls, and the youngest were fraternal, a boy and a girl.”

“I loved those books,” said Shami, smiling. “Remember when Dylas had to stop that runaway speeder in The Corellian Curse?”

“Or when Petra was trapped in the cave with the spiders!” said Tess. “I had to sleep with the lights on for a while after that.”

Ginni nodded enthusiastically. “The Trixit Twins and the Jedi Crown,” she said. “That was my all time favorite.”

“I always liked the Trixit Twins and the Adventure on Coruscant,” said Mel. “When Petra and Pelli go on the shopping spree with their aunt Maxxa?”

“Ooo, and meet Gestin Tarm, the holofilm actor?” sighed Tess. “I loved that one, too.”

“STOP!” said Val, staring at all of them. “Can we hold off on the holonovel discussion group and focus on the problem at hand?” Azra smirked at her.

AZRA: Yeah, see? Now she sees what *I’ve* had to put up with all these years! Maybe Wyla could make that our motto. “The Calrissian Girls: Random Tangents Are Our Specialty!”

Val took another look inside the bowl. “You’re just going to have to be honest and tell the truth,” she said. “Even if we found another tortie, I’m sure she’d still recognize he wasn’t the same.”

Tess nodded. “I read that the markings on their heads and their shells are as distinctive as fingerprints on humans,” she said.

Mel crossed her arms. “She’ll be so upset!”

Sarai put her arms around her younger sister’s shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did exactly what you were told. She can’t criticize you for following her directions. If she didn’t want them getting out, she should have put lids on the bowls herself.” Mel watched Shami put a pinch of dried food into the empty bowl.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Shami shrugged.

“Maybe he’ll get hungry and come back on his own,” she said. “The food might lure him. So are we done here?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Azra. “We need to get ready to go pick up Daddy. Tess, is his room ready?”

Tess nodded. “Cleaned up, changed the sheets, I’ve got a bag packed with a change of clothes for him.”

“All right,” said Val. “Home, then. And we’ll head to the hospital in an hour and a half, will you all be ready by then?” The sisters nodded an affirmative and headed back to their own house. Daddy would soon be home, and maybe life could begin to go back to normal.

 

OH no a tortie is gone!

and Mel put the mister away. mmm mister.

Yep. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. By the time you finish, a tortie will have go for one meter!!!!

But. Where is Pom Pom?

 

on the missing tortie. It is best to be honest.

The Trixit Twins mysteries sound fun! And looking forward to Daddy coming home. You can almost taste Mel's happiness.

 

Not all the way caught up, but mostly. I'm really enjoying getting to know the various sisters through each new installment. Shami's birdseed prank was priceless, though probably not the wisest in hindsight.

 

Yay, the Calrissians are back! I didn't get my fix last week, but now I'm a happy Chyntuck.

I love how Mel has taken Wyla's advice to heart about dressing nicely and being well-groomed. As if she needed an extra nudge in that direction!

I'll bet Shami is upset about the PR strategy because what she really wanted was to keep going with the bird scheme.

And the Trixit Twins tangent... oh, that was priceless. Exactly the sort of tangent that I would go on, complete with ridiculous plan to replace the missing tortie. (In fact, I wouldn't mind if you could write those Trixit Twins stories... plot bunnies galore!)

Now, where is Pom-pom? Is he pretending so well to be a statue among Mrs Kamba's collection that nobody saw him?

 

Update?

This can't be the end can it?

 

Puh, I caught up. Finally. I am also looking forward to Lando coming home. There is a lot of warmth in his family. I just hope for them that the rainbow press leaves them alone. Paparazzi are never good news.

 

I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I got busy doing other stuff. But Chyntuck has been gently nudging, and we do need to get Lando home. But first... one wardrobe scene, which is totally extraneous. But it wanted to be told.

* * * *
This week, on Keeping Up with the Calrissians... wardrobe issues!

Mel was digging through her closet. The top she’d found would work, but it totally didn’t work with the skirt.

“I don’t know… it seems a little…revealing.” Tess was pivoting to look at herself in the mirror. The embroidered white halter top worked well with the loose, swingy pants she was wearing. Ginni glanced at her.

“How do you mean revealing? I didn’t think shoulder blades were considered an erotic sight,” she said.

“Well, not to humans,” said Mel. She dug deeper. Wait… here were some shorts. This might work. No, no…a big stain on the leg. She threw them on a pile, and tried to remember if it was a pile of clean or dirty.

“Are you three ready yet? The transport is waiting.” Sarai stuck her head through the door. She was wearing a soft, floaty white sundress.

“I haven’t got anything to wear,” complained Mel. Her sisters looked at the things jammed in the closet and the piles on the floor.

“Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe,” said Sarai.

“If you’d clean things out once in a while, you could actually find stuff!” snapped Tess. She scooped a pile of clothes off her bed and tossed them into a corner. “I mean it, Mel, I’ve had it with your crap all over the place.”

“I said I’d clean it up!”

“You said that a week ago!”

“All right, enough you two!” said Sarai, glaring at both of them. She looked at Tess. “Are you ready?”

“Do you think I look too…hoochy?” Tess did another turn in front of the mirror. Sarai reached out to straighten the lace embroidered headpiece binding Tess’s lekku.

“You look gorgeous, but you could use a bit more eyeliner.” She leaned out the door. “Shami! Need some help!”

“Why do we need to wear white?” grumbled Ginni, pulling a dress over her head.

“It’s the color of purity.”

“We’re all supposed to look virginal,” growled Shami, stomping into the small bedroom. Ginni, Mel and Tess stopped and stared. Sarai’s twin was wearing white, as ordered by Wyla Alou, a snug bodysuit, of thin white leather, with strategically placed cut outs, which looked like a second skin. She’d colored her hair to match, and it was spiked up sharply, into an angry point.

SHAMI: Yeah, so I’m not a virgin… neither is Sarai, as far as I know. And I totally don’t get why we have to look like one!

“Well, you failed,” said Tess.

“No,” said Sarai patiently. “Tess needs more eyeliner.” She went to the closet, nudged Mel out of the way, and began to dig through it. “White is the color of purity, honesty. It’s the traditional color of the Senate, because it supposedly reflects their honesty and the ideals of democracy.”

MEL: Seriously?

Shami shook her head. “You’re talking about politicians, sweetie.”

“Ideals, not reality.” Sarai pulled out a short, sporty pleated skirt and handed it to Mel. “Take that shirt off, and put this on.” She rummaged a moment more and went to one of the piles. “What with the question of Dad’s business, and the shady deal with Hondo, Ms. Alou feels that we need to do everything possible to plant the idea in people’s heads that Dad is honest and aboveboard.”

The sisters stared at her in disbelief. Sarai rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, I know, we’re talking about Dad. But still. We just need to imply that, and by showing up with him while wearing the color of honesty and truth, it may give that impression. It doesn’t mean it’s actually true.” She pulled a white, strappy knit top from a pile and sniffed it cautiously before thrusting it at Mel. “This top.”

Ginni tugged at her dress. “I look—“

“So help me, I’ll throw you into a Sarlacc pit if you say you look fat!” growled Shami, gently brushing along the outside edge of Tess’s dark eyes.

Ginni pulled at the dress. “You don’t think it’s too tight?”

Sarai turned from Mel and gave her an appraising look. “It does seem tight…” She pulled down the back collar. “It is too tight…because it’s Mel’s.” She cocked her head, surveyed her sister, then dived back into the closet.

“Aren’t you all ready yet?” asked Azra, sticking her head through the door.

“We’re having wardrobe issues,” said Sarai.

Mel twirled in front of the mirror. Her outfit, the simple top with the short, pleated skirt was simple and sporty looking. “You don’t think this is boring?” she asked.

“Not with the earrings I have in mind,” said Sarai. “Besides, you’re young and pretty. You don’t need a lot of stuff. Let the you shine through.”

Shami groaned. “Good grief, don’t let Alou hear you say that! It sounds like a marketing slogan!”

“I like it,” said Tess. She looked in the mirror Shami held out. “Thanks, that does look better.”

Sarai took a peek and gave nod of approval. She looked at Mel. “Too much rouge. Wipe your cheeks.”

Azra perched on a corner of Ginni’s bed. She’d gone with crisp trousers and a tailored, short sleeve tunic top. Val stuck her head through the door.
“What is taking you all so long?” she demanded. “The transport is waiting!”

“Almost,” said Sarai. Ginni looked uncertainly at the sundress which Sarai was fastening up the back. Simple, flaring slightly from the hips, it had a white-on-white print.

“It still seems a bit snug,” she said.

“It’s three years old, sweetie,” said Tess. “You were shorter and not quite as curvy.”

Mel admired it. It looked tropical and swingy. “Can I have it? I mean, you’ve totally outgrown it, so—“

“No one is giving you any clothes until you get rid of half the stuff you’ve got,” said Azra. She did a doubletake as Val came into the room. Their eldest sister was wearing crisp, tailored white trousers and a trim, short sleeve tunic top… almost identical to the outfit Azra was wearing. “Are you wearing that?”

“Why not?” asked Val.

Azra looked down at herself. “I need to change,” she said, standing up.

“There isn’t time, and you look fine.” Val clapped her hands. “All right ladies, here we go!” Azra opened her mouth to argue, but Val added, “Daddy is waiting for us. I know he’s eager to get home.” And no one could argue with that. They all trooped out to the waiting transport.

 

Such a slice of life there with discussing the outfits: is this too tight, to can I have that, to I need to change.

And Mel she dumps her clothes all over and doesn't know which is clean or not.

"Let the real you shine through" would make a good marketing slogan.

Another indisputable fact about politicians: idealism versus reality.

 

Please, please, please try to keep this updated more often! Because I am discovering that I absolutely love these girls!

 

Yay, the Calrissians are back!!! And what else would they be talking about... than clothes?

I can just picture that room, with pile and piles of clean and not-so-clean clothes of various sizes in every corner. No wonder Tess is fed up.

And Shami's outfit That one really did me in. "Virginal", uh?

Can't wait to see the reactions to all that white when they go outside and confront the world!

 

Now that my own father is in hospital since the 26th October this story reads totally different. I can relate to it even deeper now than ever before.

 

Thank you, all! I've had this ready to go, but delayed it for a few days.

The moment you have all been waiting for...

* * * *
This week on Keeping Up with the Calrissians… Lando returns!

It was wonderful to see Dad again. They waited outside the room while he changed out of the hospital garb into the clothes Val and Azra had brought for him. Then they waited while he arranged his hair and brushed his moustache just so. Shami had given his boots an extra gloss. Lando hadn’t been keen on taking the hoverchair to the press conference, and there was a short, polite argument which ended in a compromise. He’d take the hoverchair to the door to the meeting room where the conference would be held, but he’d walk in under his own steam, and the girls trailed along after him.

Val and Azra went through the doors first, holding them open (with Azra glaring at her seemingly oblivious elder sister). And Lando arrived.

He took a few steps forward, to the shouts and cheers of the waiting crowd, then paused, spreading his arms wide and cocking his head with a broad, toothy grin. He held the pose for a moment or so, to let the holoshills get their pictures.

“Your father definitely knows the drill,” murmured Wyla Alolu. Mel nodded. Dad looked every inch his usual self, in dark pants with one of his favorite blue shirts and a short, sweeping white capelet bordered in dark gold trim. Still smiling and nodding at individuals, he strode to the podium.

“My friends,” he said in a warm, deep voice. “I just want to thank you all for coming by today. While I am sure glad to be going home, I have to admit, I couldn’t have asked for better care here. Dr. Okan, Dr. Simrix, and all the medical staff have thoroughly spoiled me.” He nodded towards the staff, who smiled and nodded back at him. “But of course, my girls are eager to get me back, so they can nag me into taking better care of myself. Maybe this time I’ll actually listen!”

There were a few chuckles from the crowd, and the questions began.

“General, do you believe that Hondo Ohnaka—?“

“General, is it true that several different banks are—?“

“General, could you tell us more about this new--?”

Lando held up his hands for silence. “Folks,” he said, “I don’t want to take up the time of the hospital personnel. I know some of you are interested in my goings on—the Force only knows why!—and I asked Mr. Bayron, my lawyer, to issue a press release. For those of you who didn’t get one, it’s still available. I’ll just say a few things.

“First of all, I did get mixed up with Hondo Ohnaka’s investment scheme. In retrospect, I should have looked into it more carefully before I went forward. But I’ve known Hondo for a long, long time. He was involved with supplying the Rebellion long before the defeat of the Empire, and I would never have believed I couldn’t trust him on something like this. I did, indeed, lose some money but it’s not as bad as the rumors I’ve heard.

“Secondly, I’ve been talking with my lovely daughters, Valissa and Azra—“ he gestured to the two of them, who smiled and nodded at the audience. Val seemed serene, but Mel thought Azra’s smile seemed forced. “They came to me with the idea for a new organization, which they are developing, called Lucky Seven Enterprises, and I am backing them up in this. So some exciting things there.

“At any rate, the main news is…I’m not dead yet! I know some folks will be sorry to hear that—“ He paused and chuckled while the news crews dutifully laughed. “But I’ve got a lot of plans and a lot to do, so I’ll be around for a while. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’m going home to catch up and see what kind of hijinks the girls have been up to in my absence!” He stepped down from the podium with a wave, and strode towards the door. Security droids were holding back the crowds, but Lando was in no hurry. He walked past the barricades holding back press and fans, pausing to smile or let someone take a picture. He took some flowers from this one, signed an autograph for that one, posed with a third, and then slipped into the waiting transport.

VAL: Daddy has been doing this a long time. There’s something in what Wyla says. Maybe he doesn’t need to bother with business. Maybe he should just do the personal appearances himself. He makes it look so easy! *pause* And why does Azra keep making faces at me? Did I spill something on myself?

Mel and her sisters piled in behind him and they took off for home. In the transport, her father seemed to deflate a little.

“I think that went well, don’t you?” he asked.

“You were brilliant, Daddy,” said Ginni.

Shami pursed her lips. “You didn’t actually tell them much,” she said.

“Well, at this point, there isn’t much to tell,” said Lando. “And remember, a gambler never reveals his cards!”

“What is Lucky Seven Enterprises?” asked Tess.

“It’s us,” said Azra. “It’s a separate company from Dad’s. Basically, us together, investing in things, making personal appearances, marketing ideas, whatever. A separate income stream that Dad’s creditors can’t touch.”

Mel sat up. “Is this the thing where we go to parties and get paid for it?” she asked excitedly.

“It’s not going to be as exciting as you think,” Lando cautioned her. “It is work, after all. And you have to get through the last week of school and finals before you get to do any of it, so don’t get too excited.”

“If you don’t pass finals, you’ll end up in summer school,” Sarai reminded her. Mel shuddered.

MEL: Okay, note to self: ace the finals! Regular school is bad enough! I am NOT ruining my summer and missing out on all the Graduation week festivities! I guess that means I’ve got to buckle down and study.

Shami crossed her arms. “What if some of us don’t want to do the independent enterprise?” she demanded.

“You won’t have to,” said Azra. “But you’ll definitely need another job.” She looked at her father. “Val and I were talking, and frankly, the only one who isn’t of age is Mel. The rest of us should be paying rent or at the very least, contributing to the household funds.”

“There’s no need for that,” said Lando.

“Yes, there is,” said Sarai. “We’re not children. There’s no reason we can’t support ourselves.”

Lando shook his head, and leaned back in his chair. “We can discuss it later. But I’m your father, and you can stay under my roof as long as you want.”


LANDO: I know they could take care of themselves, but they’re my girls! And they worry too much. It will all work out. In fact, I’ve got a plan…

 

Oooh, Lando really is great with the news types -- he's charming and friendly and discloses just enough so they feel like they heard something substantial, and he was honest at the same time. The idea about the Lucky Seven company sounds great. LOL Lando has a plan. Should I be worried?

 

Okay, I'm here and the boards aren't crashing as of the moment I start typing this, so here is finally a review.

I love your Lando. It's just so in-character with him to be prettying himself up for his first public appearance, to talk a lot without revealing anything and to take selfies with the audience And the name Lucky Seven Enterprises is absolutely Lando-esque. Now I think there must be some Greek ancestry in there, because putting your property and funds in your children's names is a standard way of dodging taxes and creditors here.

The allusions to Azra giving Val a sour eye every now, and Val not actually understanding what the heck Azra is up to, promises for interesting developments in the future – as does the idea that Shami isn't too keen on making public appearances for money. There's some potential for friction here. And now, Mel, you go and study for your exams. You may not be of age just yet, but Lucky Seven Enterprises can OBVIOUSLY NOT work without you!

 

Well, obviously!

And a love of wine, women and song? Yeah, I could see it! Yes, all types of mini-frictions and undercurrents which will no doubt crop up at the worst possible times.

Meanwhile, a bunny bit HARD tonight, so instead of the planned post, I give you all this...
* * *
This week on Keeping Up with the Calrissians…too much of a good thing!

Mel was at the long dining table, bent over her Literature notes. She had exams tomorrow in Literature and Planetary History. Ginni was in the kitchen, looking at the instructions her father’s doctor had sent home with him.

GINNI: Low salt, low fat, no fried foods, no spicy foods… This seems pretty bland. I don’t know how I’m going to make anything taste good.

The chime rang on the door. Ginni and Mel looked towards it and exchanged a look. Were the holoshills descending already? They’d been pretty good about not disturbing the girls. They stayed off the property, with their cameras aimed at the windows.

“I got it,” said Shami. She had the light of battle in her eye. If the media vultures were circling, she was ready to give them an earful.

It wasn’t the media. It was Mrs. Akranis from up the street, smiling and holding a tray of something, covered in perrefoil. “Hello, dear,” she said. “I heard your father got home today?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am. He’s out in the garden, getting some fresh air. Did you want to see him?”

“Oh, no, no, I don’t want to disturb him. He needs to rest. I just wanted to drop this off.” She shoved the tray at Shami.

“What—“

“Just a little casserole I made up; I figured no one would be up to cooking. Oh, and here…” Mrs. Akranis passed over a basket. “These little herb rolls go very well with the casserole. Creamy Polla Noodle Surprise. Comfort food. Just return the dish when you have a chance, there’s no rush, and tell your father we’re all thinking of him.” She patted Shami’s arm. “Do let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Well, thank you so much,” said Shami. Mrs. Akranis waved as she walked down the pathway, and pushed past the reporters as if they didn’t exist. Shami went into the kitchen and deposited the dinner on the counter. “Creamy Polla Noodle Surprise with Herb Biscuits from Mrs. Akranis. Guess dinner is sorted.”

Ginni peeked under the perrefoil. “I don’t think Daddy is supposed to be eating a lot of rich creamy sauces,” she said. “But I guess I can make him some regular broiled polla and regular noodles, and the rest of us can eat this. That was very nice of her.”

“Mm. I’ll have to do a longer workout tomorrow, to make up for it.” The door chimed again. “Now what?” grumbled Shami.

“Got it!” called Azra. After a few moments, she came into the kitchen with a massive ceramic dish. “Lady Saloua dropped this off. Spicy Polla Noodle Casserole, with Herb Biscuits.”

“But…” Ginni pointed to the tray on the counter. “We just got a tray of Creamy Polla Noodle Casserole! Mrs. Akranis dropped it off!”

“Oh,” said Azra. She shrugged. “I guess one had better go into stasis storage then. We can label the dishes so we can return them later.”

With one dish in stasis and one in the heating unit, the girls went back to their own affairs, until the door chimed again. “NOW what?” grumbled Mel. She tossed down her stylus and got up from her chair, but a massive fruit basket made it through the door, seemingly of its own volition. Mel and Ginni stared, but it was set down on the end of the table and a rather flustered Tessa appeared.

“This,” she said, “is courtesy of Holonet News Now!, who would love an interview with Dad at his earliest convenience.

Mel looked over the fruits. Most seemed normal, but there were a few she’d never seen before. “What is this thing?” she asked, picking up something green and spiky.

“I think it’s a barva fruit,” said Ginni. “I think they have to be cooked before they’re digestible. I’ll have to look it up. At least it’s not—“

“Dinner!” called Sarai. She set a pan down on the table, and slipped a basket out from under her arm. “Mrs. Tollis sent over a Creamy Polla Noodle Casserole and a basket of Herb Rolls.” The doorchime sounded again.

“Oh, no,” groaned Ginni. Mel was already racing to the door, reaching it just as Valissa was opening it. A beaming human male stood there, round-bellied, with a broad moustache and a smile. Behind him, four smartly attired beings in crisp white uniforms stood at attention with stasis containers.

“Ladies!” he said loudly, angling himself slightly towards the camera. “I am Dissani Escouffer, owner of the Plaza Royale Restaurant at 327 Margin Street, level 35. I thought your father deserved a welcome home dinner, and of course you young ladies would be in no mood to cook, and so I have taken the liberty of preparing something as a welcome.” He started passing containers from the staff to the bemused young women. “Shuffi greens soup with kaska balls, very good for enriching the blood, and Polla sautéed in a delicate burrana sauce over baked noodles, a sort of deconstruction of the classic Creamy Polla Noodle Casserole. Some of my famous Dissani rolls, with an herbal butter, and for dessert, a nice compote of barva and mujafruit in a wine sauce, with a heavy whipped cream to garnish.” He took a final container and passed it to Sarai, since Ginni, Mel and Val were completely laden down. “And a nice ’56 Sorani, very dry. Some of you are old enough to appreciate it, I’m sure your father will.”

“Uh…thank you?” said Val, looking at the others.

“It is my honor and my pleasure,” said Escouffer, beaming. “And whenever he is ready to venture out again, we will be delighted to hold a table for him at the Plaza Royale Restaurant. That’s 327 Margin Street, Level 35.” He smiled and bowed, turned to wave at the holoshills who were aiming their cameras at him, and after a few moments, he disappeared. The girls moved to the kitchen, laying the cartons next to the other dishes.

“Deconstructed Polla Noodle Casserole?” said Sarai in disbelief.

Ginni shrugged. “Deconstruction is sort of a trend right now,” she said. “At least Daddy can eat this, although we’ll have to take the cream sauce off it.” The door chimed again. “Oh, no, please!”

Mel raced to the door. It was Shika Rummna, the Sullustan male who helped keep the airspeeders running. “Hey,” he said through his translation device, “My wife heard your dad was home from the hospital and sent me over with this.”

“It’s…it’s not Creamy Polla Noodle Casserole, is it?” asked Mel, staring at the covered pot.

Rummna made a face. “By the Force, no, that’s disgusting! No, no, this is a good roasted Blood Grunt with chyntuck root. Oh, and a beebleberry pie.” He passed it over to Mel. “Real Sullustan food, he’ll feel better in no time! Tell him I’ve gone over the speeder, it’s working fine. No worries there. Return the pot whenever you like, my wife says there’s no rush.”

MEL: Good thing no one is allergic to Polla Noodle Casserole! Final score: 8 Polla Noodle Casseroles or variations thereof, sixteen congealed salads, a Garmworm Casserole, 2 pots of Sarakki stew and one roasted Blood Grunt. I guess we won’t need to worry about the food bill for a while.