Alex sat in the Phantom Complex, idly thumbing through the old datapad. He had managed to catch word that House Qel-Droma was operating out of Port Ol’val these days and once he had gotten that trail, it had been easy enough to leverage his charm, wit, and dogged perseverance into finding one of the many hidden entrances to the Phantom Complex. He had scanned in the ident stored on the datapad against the hidden access panel, at best expecting it not to work, at worst prepared to have to fight his way back out of the port to avoid incarceration. He was struck by immeasurable surprise when the secret door had opened, revealing a narrow tunnel behind.
“Guess they must have never cleared my codes from the system,” he shrugged to himself as he headed in.
And so now he found himself here, having taken up a seat in the central garden of the base level. It was quite early in the morning local time so there hadn’t been too many people passing by as of yet, but of the few that had there had definitely been some confusion in regard to his presence. Alex paid it no attention however, and continued to review the details on the old dossier.
Zig Kaliska padded through the halls of House Qel-Droma’s seat of alleged power. The complex was important, of course, but the junker-turned-engineer had spent so much of her time aboard the House’s flagship, what she considered to be one of her babies, the Voidbreaker II. Of course, while serving as Captain of the ship and reporting to the Battleteam Leader, formally, she had been at the complex many a times.
And each time she had insisted that the security needed to be updated. Her pleas had, of course, fallen into the waves of bureaucracy. Of course, they couldn’t just update the database, because of the legacy data it stored. And the backup data source was destroyed in one of the many moves for local power and control that had transpired over HQD’s time on the shadow port. So in order for them to turn the server off to back it up again they would first need to set up a new redundant array, and figure out how to migrate the old software into the new one without any data loss.
They could have just let her rebuild it from scratch, and saved some money, but a third party contractor had worked on it first and they were just ‘waiting until they had time to come look at it’.
Even Marick, the retired spymaster and Shadow Lord, seemed to be unable to figure out a solution to this conundrum. He was pulled away by other pressing things like, helping save Selen, being a dad, dragging her to the Ethereal Realm, you know, important stuff. Nevertheless, the security was tight, even if the database was in need of updating.
So, she was not actually surprised as she walked the halls to see an unfamiliar face. He was human male. Tall, built. Definitely worked out, but questionable if he knew the importance of leg day. He had close-cropped medium-dark brown hair and slight streaks of silvery gray at the temples. Were she still Captain, perhaps, she would have been a bit more diplomatic. Instead.
“Oi, who the kark are you?”
Alex looked up from the datapad into the yellow eyes of a clearly-annoyed Zygerrian.
“Oh, hello there,” he smiled casually, “my name is Alex Draconis. Or rather,” he looked down at the datapad once again, “Alex Feng Long, I suppose? All the same, really, in the long run.” The pleasant drawl of his speech pattern was convivial in tone, either not picking up on the slight hint of frustration in the address or simply choosing not to acknowledge it.
“According to this, I am supposed to be here.” He held up the datapad to show a dossier with a face that, while somewhat younger, was still clearly his. It also bore the mark of House Qel-Droma, and even indicated that the person in question was a former Aedile.
“Is there some sort of problem?” He tilted his head slightly as he held out the datapad toward Zig.
“Huh,” Zig said as she took the datapad and studied it. She tapped a button her eye-piece, the glass visor pulling up an HUD that pulled the dossier signature information, and projected it up in her vision holographically. She idly handed him the data pad.
“Good enough. So, you’re one of those old people. Ancient, from what this says.”
She made a pinching gesture and then swiped away a holographic display, shifting her attention back to him. “Well, welcome to Ol'val. A good place to hang a-round,"she grinned. "Ever been on a ship crew? A real crew, not a mercenary one-off,” she clarified.
“Okay… that’s done, that’s also done, not done, not done.. oh kist. I forgot this…” Sofila muttered as she was checking several things on her datapad. She sighed softly at some of the stuff. This… didn’t feel right but … it was her job. Her responsbilities. She was a leader now. She set the datapad to her side, turned the corner and-
Backpedal! Backpedal! Backpedal! She hopped back to the corner. There would be a loooong pause.
Another pause.
Oh hey, more pause.
Then if one has a watchful eye or eyes, they would see a mane of purple hair sticking out the corner. Then green skin. Then pink hues watching Zig and Alex. She squinted as she watch them.
Who the kark is he?
“Well, I do not know that the ‘ancient’ label was wholly merited as I am clearly still quite spry and lively, but at least you accept my presence as legitimate,” he took the datapad back and stowed it away. “I cannot say that I am exactly much of the ‘crew’ sort. I tend to be more about independent action and finding my own solutions to problems. While I can work with a team, I have never really been much of one for strict order and discipline.” Not exactly an expected response from a Mandalorian, but then it was becoming increasingly clear that Alex was far from typical of his kind.
Alex felt the slight tingle of the hairs rising on the back of his neck which always meant he was being watched from somewhere. He unfocused his attention for a brief moment and let his consciousness seek out where this may be coming from. As he sensed a hint of curiosity from a nearby building corner, he pulled himself back to attentiveness and turned slightly to meet pink eyes for a moment with his own emerald-flecked-with-yellow. A subtle wink and a twist of his already smiling lips into a half-smirk before he continued his conversation.
“Now, I do assume you are asking because there is some sort of ship around here looking for crew. While I cannot say I am interested in joining myself, I would still be more than happy to hear what I can about it. I find it always benefits me to be aware of what resources my compatriots and allies have available to them.” <@216702440140046336>
Zig took out an imaginary clip board and started to check off things. “Loner type. Solution oriented. Mild issues with authority and military structure…”
She pretended to think it over. “Yep, you’d fit in perfectly with the others…”
Zigs pointed ears perked as she spotted her beautiful, unit of a Questor. She blinked once.
“Hey ‘boss, found an old…new…recruit–er, well, new member to the House!” she beamed and waved cheerfully.
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
“….What did you say it looks like, again?” shouted Bril, voice muffled by the mélange of high-credit fashion pieces that filled nearly every inch of Minnow’s closet. “I’m not seeing what you’re talking about, babe. Why don’t you just come find it yourself?”
The slight vexation in his voice was apparent, though even a brief inspection of their ever-present bond would confirm that it wasn’t at her, necessarily. He was more so perplexed by the sheer volume of it all. Here he was thinking that his wardrobe was getting on the large side, especially with the recommendations made by both Minnow and Foxen, but this put his to shame … and this wasn’t even the first time he’d seen it!
<@244244163002892288>
“Kitty, I’m masking!” she hollered from the bathroom. “It’s the coral chiffon A-line top! It matches, liek, that skirt you like!”
“I like all of your skirts, pur'ka,” he replied, “And I don’t know what a chiffon is, love. Foxen’s fashion lessons aren’t sticking as well as I’d hoped. Heh.”
After a few more minutes of unsuccessful searching, the Zabrak huffed and stood upright. Crossing the room of their shared flat, he entered the bathroom and greeted his beloved by placing his hands on her hips.
“How mad at me would you be if I suggest a change of plans?”
Sofila huffed as she was discovered by them. Then Zig actually tried to call her over as she grimaced. Might be a bad idea. She still gets in bad mood pretty quickly.
Just take a deep breath, turn around and leave. Sofila reminded herself if she gets mad. Her lips curved into a friendly smile as she stepped out of the so-called-hiding-place and made their way towards them. Maybe she won’t get mad today!
Tell that to the poor mug earlier.
“Hello!”
<@102435651189743616>
“What a fine morning I do find myself having,” Alex laughed easily, as if it were just a natural part of the sentence. “I have found my way back to an old-albeit-new home, find myself in the presence and attention of two beautiful women, and have even received an offer of gainful employment - though I will continue to refuse that last no matter how much you may insist, I am afraid.” He held his gauntleted hand out toward Sofila, hand slightly spread to accept either a more normal handshake or able to switch to the grip-on-forearm-style shake common to the Mandalorians. Never could tell who was a Son or Daughter, these days.
“Alex Draconis, long absent member of House Qel-Droma. Charmed to meet you,” that casual smile again locking in. “I can only assume based on the way-” he realized he hadn’t actually gotten the Zygerrian’s name, “she addressed you that you are either the current Quaestor or Aedile of the House. I look forward to working under you.” <@189568236201705472>
Zig’s face, while still smiling and cordial, didn’t even seem the register the blunt compliment the Human layered into his reply. Passively filtering and ignoring it. “I don’t know that we actually get ‘paid’, but it’s better than skulking around a stuffy complex on a shadowport counting the number of durasteel tiles used in the design. You should check out the ship, at the very least.”
“Ah, right,” she realized. “This is Sofila Douve Armis, our fearless Quaestor,” she gestured, somewhat reverently. “And I’m Zig, head of engineering and first mate of the Voidbreaker II. And, currently, the Shadow Lady’s favorite princess.” She made a faux-curtsey with a skirt she was not wearing. She was in her ship uniform, shirt top button open, with a nerf-leather jacket and combat boots.
The sand was still warm underfoot even though the sun had laid to sleep some hours the ago. Above in the clear ink sky, speckled with the many thousand children of the Goddess, Her Moonlight Matron hung pale and resplendent in waxing bloom, curved with babe yet born. Rue gazed upon her milky countenance most holy and closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the cool touch of her snowdrop shine, a beacon in the welcome, benevolent dark.
He very much loved the sunlight. He knew this now. But the Moon was his Lady, as She had been his grandmother’s, and hers before her, and before her, and this, the night, was Her domain.
“Blessed night, Mother,” he whispered to the sky, opening his eyes, then bowed low, sinking down into it in supplication, knees and forehead to the warm-cooling like rigor-setting sands. The ocean was a soft, deep song, low and sshhhrhhrsssshrhsssh. The tide pooled loose strands of his braided hair and tugged, tickling. He lifted his lips from the salt of the water and smiled, then rose to pad a few steps clear of the surf and began his arrangements.
- He had gotten these supplies all by himself. He’d made note of the correct shops and shopkeeps when on trips with Hunyi and Elly and Kerissa. He had told Hunyi he was going to do commerce to-the-day, and she had given him the money and smiled at him in a way that made him feel like he had performed very well indeed! He had not even taken Alk, though the mott was so accustomed to going everywhere with them, he had stomped when ordered to stay and required extraneous offerings of snacks and pets in recompense, for which Rue was still apologizing to the young genteel. He had gone on his own and did the commerce, and come back, and prepared for this night, thrice hence from that day, mindful of how Elly had commented that it was the coming upon the middle of the year here on the Selen, which meant Sulla would soon no longer be in her classes and they would have lots of time to draw and play and he would be needed for more frequent nannying.
But it also meant an anniversary.
Rue had considered asking Kerissa to join him. But she always moved on quickly and made discomforted faces or tightened her knuckles to white when he mentioned her family, and so, he had decided to not. So here he was, crept from camp though of course informing Hunyi and Alk he would like some time alone for a bit, setting out shallow clay bowls he had made just like the pot he gifted Kerissa for her first – of many – plants. Into one he poured milk. In another wine. Those he set just so, and then the bundled herbs in the middle. Then came the flowers, and a cup of tea, just as he’d liked it, and finally the papers.
-
- “Blessed Night, Master,” the hybrid murmured softly, a bittersweet, old smile as he touched the petals as though kissing a hand. “This one has brought your favorite tea. And also it made you drawings, so that you can see the place it is now. The Selen is very beautiful, and has unique flora and fauna. This one hopes you would have found them very fascinating. It took notes, for you to review.”
He paused then, and his smile fell, and he gnawed on his knuckles.
“This one must confess, Master.” His tail coiled tight around his leg, and a tremor took to his tone. “It disobeyed. It disobeyed Mistress your daughter and the family. It disobeyed you. It is sorry. But it. It had to. Also for the family. So it h-hopes you will forgive it a-and accept these offerings.”
A shaky breath sucked in. He tried very hard to breathe, then looked back up at his Lady.
“Moonlight Matron, please watch over the Master, and convey these memories and wishes to His spirit. May he rest in your grace and know peace and flourish. May the Mistresses and Masters flourish. May God be sated, and You, my Lady, be honored. Blessed be.” Prayer given, he flicked the lighter, a contraption Hunyi had shown him how to work when they made campfires, to burn the papers, smoke and ash carrying them to the stars. As the flames died, he wiped his running eyes. It had been forty years, and still, this ached. “I miss and love you still, Master. I am sorry. Goodnight.”
The hybrid spent awhile longer there by the shore, then eventually rose and returned to his bed, snuggled safely between Hunyi and Alk.
——
The tiny Nautolan very carefully narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror, not leaning too far back into his chest lest she smear anything on him. Her face was covered in a cosmetic mask, one of many age used and he couldn’t track entirely, and her headtails were tucked around little curlers as if for hair but different. She had gel on her cuticles and an array of tools on the counter. Clearly she was mid process, but not yet to makeup.
“Obviously, I’d take Femi and leave you,” she grumbled, a crinkly-paste smile and the fondness in their bond reassuring any bite. “What’s up, Kitty?”
“And leave me here with all your snacks?” he joked, knowing how protective she was of her munchies. He watched her in the mirror, his expression softening while he admired her.
“Just tired, pur'ka,” he said, “It feels like I’ve been on ‘go’ non-stop lately and admittedly, sitting down at a fancy restaurant feels like a lot right now. But it’s the anniversary of us meeting so I still want to do something special, of course, just … inside, maybe?”
He offered a cautious smile. “We could have takeout and watch our favorite holofilms?”
“Ner di'kut'ika?” he repeated, taking his time to sound the words out. “Your … idiot?”
He had heard parts of it before, but the full meaning was lost on him. He was clearly missing something based on the affectionate tone she used.
“And I won’t as long as you won’t, pur'ka.”
She beamed at him, leaning up on her toes to kiss, before remembering her lips were smeared with serum. A touch to his chest over two hearts sufficed instead.
“Good job, good boy. Yes, you got it, ‘my dummy,’ Mister Doctor Professor Bril. You’re brilliant, baby, but sometimes…” She shook her head. “I promise. Now lemme wash up so we can get jammies on and eat something. You pick food. And I’m thinking something light for the holo. Didn’t Noga and Leda send you some recs?”
And that touch made both hearts flutter, a subtle that drifted across their bond as an effervescent warmth. He brought that same hand to his lips, painting her knuckles with light pecks before meeting her seafoam eyes with his own crystal blues.
“Deal. And I promise I won’t get anything spicy this time.
"Oh, that’s a good idea! They have really good taste in holos. It’s pretty crazy.”
He went to grab his datapad so he could place an order from their favorite takeout restaurant.
“I’ll grab Femi, too.”
Outside, it was pouring. That was a thing she’d had to get used to about Selen. For all its pleasant and often perfect if sometimes too humid weather, the “monsoon seasons” that aren’t actually tied to seasonal shifts brought heavy storms. Today’s deluge was no different. It had been so dark all morning it was like the sun didn’t even come up. The rain came down in sheets, sometimes blowing sideways in waves.
So she was cozied up nicely on her move couch with a cup of tea and some books. At least until a knock came at her door.
At first there was suspicion, and she tensed. She didn’t exactly get many visitors. Zuji would’ve said something, and Savi, well…
That either meant it was nothing, maybe a neighbor, or a threat, or…
She opened the door, one hand hidden behind it and primed, and there was Rue, absolutely dripping all over. He was soaked flat. He left puddles all the way from the lift.
And he smiled like he always did as soon as he saw her. Like she was–
“Kerissa!” her fellow hybrid chirped, wet tail swishing – and spraying water, oh gosh, was the hallway paint gonna be okay? Would somebody notice? – happily. “Hello, good day, blessed day.”
<@432543120635461643>
“Rue- Hi- Come on in, you’re soaked, I can get you a towel.”
Kerissa wasn’t sure whether to laugh or worry, it was always difficult to tell.
He padded on in at her invitation, feet lightly flicking when he picked them up, like a tooka shaking off water from its paws. His smile stayed though, and he happily informed, “It is raining. I was enjoying it. And the rain always makes this one think of you, but it occured to me, this time, I could tell you. Hunyi says though not to use the datapad in the water, so I thought I would come and say. Is this alright?”
He peered around, as much to gauge what she was up to as to check on the plants he had left her. He quickly wandered over to one and moved it a little more away from the window, touching each other as he passed, whispering something to each of them.
“Yes it is.” Kerissa confirmed to him, closing the door once he was clear of it with a gentle click, locking it. This was a nice area but the paranoia was ever present.
“Why… rain?” She asked after a moment.
The plants were alright, their pots had sticky notes attached to them with the daily instructions for their care and seemed to have been sticking to it.
Indeed Rue seemed pleased by how the plants were doing. He smiled and cooed to them, then perked at her question, and came padding back over, leaving a trail of water in his wake (I’m so sorry).
When he came to a stop just in front of her, his arm lifted his only hand, hesitant a moment – skittish in the way he still was with doing anything without explicit permission or orders, but having been encouraged this – before reaching to touch her cheek. His hand was a little chilly, and wet, but the rain was warm enough that he wasn’t freezing. His thumb brushed her scales.
“Your eyes,” he answered softly, gazing at her like that. “They are gray, you know. Once, when you were small, you told me you wished you were like me. You thought you were boring. And I told you,” he hummed, glancing out the window, then back, “I think that I told you about how I loved your eyes, and you were so lovely, just as you were, and your hair was like your grandfather’s and like snowdrops and your eyes were gray like rain. This one had never seen rain, then, you see. It lied, a little bit. Or told a story. Grandmother would say sometimes those were the same thing, in fables. But it knew what rain was, and Grandmother told it of gray clouds and wide skies…and so it thought, in your eyes, it had the rain.”
Lulaire had scheduled a meeting to meet with Bril. She was always grateful for her family, they had other jobs so they can always count on each other if one needs to go to their second job and pick up the slack in the farm to keep it from slacking behind.
Though, she wished this meeting wasn’t a serious one. Lulaire can stay calm and serious in situations but this wasn’t something she was quite prepared. She had meditated all morning in the field, that was, until her ear was licked by an orbak calf who was wanting her attention and tried to get on her lap like it wasn’t a three hundred pound puppy dog.
Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she wore simple overalls with short sleeve shirt underneath. She needed to go back home and do some farm chores after the meeting. Unknown to her, the lick from the calf earlier has her hair sticking up on the side above her left ear. She did tried to come here clean, but farm life? That was a joke. Even her trimmed clean nails had some dirt underneath it.
It took some time and some directions from others when she arrived at Fort Blindshot, and she had finally found his office. Her hands rose as she gently knocked on the door.
<@1056685516441006091>
Why was there so much paperwork? Going through research literature came easy to him, but having to write reports and survey logistics data, time off requests, and a dozen other things on top of his other responsibilities made Bril want to pull his hair out. But as much as he disliked it, he considered this worth being able to make a difference for the people of Dajorra.
He had just set down a document and taken to rubbing his eyes when he heard a knock at his door. His senses told him it was someone familiar.
“Come in,” he announced.
<@216702440140046336>
Lulaire opened the door with a smile, “Hidey-ho frien- eeeeech.” She cringed at seeing the paperwork. This was why she liked her farm life.
She was allergic disliked reports, paperworks, and what have you.
“Well. Before I get too tempt to ask ya if ya would be okay with me taking them papers to add to our compose pile back home….” Lulaire started as she entered and closed the door behind her. She approached the desk and stood at a respectful distance.
“I was wonderin’ about something. Would it be possible, I understand if not, completely do, but if I ever hafta go on a mission with yall, to make sure I dun be teamin’ up with any Siths?”
He was surprised to see that it was Lulaire visiting him. She’d never stopped by his office in Fort Blindshot before, but it was a welcome visit, nevertheless.
“Hey, Lulaire,” he began, chuckling when she mentioned taking care of his paperwork problem. “A tempting offer, but I don’t think the higher ups would be happy with me.”
When the firrerreo Jedi posed her question, though, Bril’s face adopted a more serious expression. He leaned forward. “Is there something I should know about?”
“Hm. Well, I reckon it wouldn’t be fair to say it and not explain a bit why. I do believe the Force has it’s reasons and we’re always gonna be tested. When I was young, Matielda, my identical twin sister and I were at a conclave to train so we can harness our Force powers and make sure we don’t lose discipline. It was there that we befriended another who we thought was on their way to be a Jedi. Turns out her master was there to get information and they killed a lot of people on their way out. They were Siths. Matie and I got injured but we were okay.” She sighed softly.
“Then years later, I finished my trainin’, see, Matie was the one with Farsight. She wasn’t very good with lightsaber techniques and I got to come back home while she stayed to train some more. Soon after, the entire conclave was killed, my sister included, by a Sith.” Lulaire still remembered that day. How she just knew and felt everything before Matie’s life was taken. Identical twins were always said to have intense connection and with both of them Force Sensitive, it had made that day so much harder.
“Now, I ain’t gonna be the one to look for fights or anything. It ain’t my place to do so. I’m here to protect and keep the peace where I can. I’m more self-defense if I have to. But the Force is always testing all of us, even the Siths and the Jedis. If I ended up teamin’ with one, so be it. But if they start to do more harm than good… well, I have to step in.”
Oh.
Kerissa was never sure how to feel in these moments. How to react. It was a compliment, and a kind one. Shed never really been fond of her eyes though it wasn’t a big deal at all and this was.. nice. But there was always that bittersweet pang in her gut. The one that knew she should recall that. That she should remember him and yet all that remained was the whispers of hummed tunes and the herbs on Dathomir not being associated with anger or pain like most other things were.
Well. And the slight internal sigh at the fact that in all the eye colours of the galaxy, she got the one that isn’t a colour-
“Grey like the rain.” She repeated softly, “Thats.. nice. I think.”
Her cheek was wet.
“Though, whether or not you like the rain, we might want to get it out of you before you get cold.” She offered a smile, placing her hand over his for a moment and squeezing before turning towards the bathroom. Thankfully she did have a spare towel. Zujiena was a blessing.
“I do like it very much. Not as much as sunlight, but very much still. It feels on the skin. Have you tried turning your face up to it? Or splashing in the puddles? It is very fun. Alk and I do it all the time.” His tail flicked back and forth, a shy curl, before offering, “Would you like to come play in the rain? We can dry off after.”
Had she ever played in the rain?
The rain had always been an issue really. When you have nothing, getting soaked to the bone just meant getting sick or sitting naked in a bathroom stall in a bar waiting for things to dry and hoping no one reports someone hogging a stall for hours.
And then getting sick anyway from sitting in a public bathroom for hours.
But he was doing that face. The indecision was obvious for a moment, before-
“I’m bringing an umbrella. But I’ll come out for a little while.”
Rue’s whole self lit up, like it always did. Even utterly soaked, his clothing transparent against each bone and his hair the darkest she’d ever seen it, sopping like that, he still shimmered with a golden sheen of pure joy. He beamed at her, and his tail stood up to flick, his one hand making an aborted flap towards his other side as if–
As if he’d be clapping in delight if he could.
“Yes!” he cheered, then softer, “yes. We can have a walk. There is a very good puddle just downstairs in the kettle hole. And the species of shrub down your street are rain-blooming. They are called raeceius gerinus, or weepingbells. I can tell you about them? And then perhaps tea?” A pause in his ramble. “What is an umbrella?”
Kerissa grabbed it from below the spot her jacket was hung up, opening it and resting it on her shoulder for a moment.
“It acts as a portable… shelter, essentially.” She closed it, hooking it onto her waistband at the front and starting to slip her jacket on, stepping into one shoe as she did so.
“Ooo.” Rue peered at it while it was open, then watched her close it. “Fascinating.”
Once she had both shoes on, and was securely wrapped in her jacket with umbrella in tow, her fellow hybrid scurried to the door, just about vibrating in place, a chirping, mrr leaving him. “Shall we, sweetpea?”
He offered his only hand to hold.
Aiden
On a beachfront bordering the ocean near his home, a lone figure sat upon a flat stone. The sun was setting in the distance, presenting an exquisite painting of reds, yellows, oranges, and purples across the darkening blue sky. Stripped of his Beskar armor and his robes, a shirtless Aiden Lee Deshra bathed in last fleeting lights of the day. His metallic arm gleamed in the sunset. The air was silent and still, save for gentle breeze that crept through the Balance Adherents freed hair, and the crashing of waves against the rocky shore. Aiden’s eyes were closed as his faced scrunched with futility. Even after all this time, he heard nothing.
“20 years…” he whispered to nothingness around him as memories flooded and consumed his thoughts. Like a holovid, scenes from his life flashed in front of his blue-green eyes. Nights of dancing with his mother around a bonfire. Her happiness shone across the beauty of her face. Long days of training with his father who taught him to fight, to swim, to protect his own…to survive. Songs, stories, lessons, everything they passed on to him as they raised him and his beliefs 20 years ago. The day his connection to the Force grew and his powers reacted so violently and horrifyingly revealed themselves. He could still hear the cracking of the man’s skull and the screaming of the crumpled helmet. The smell of blood and exposed flesh. The pain, anger, and sadness he felt when he found his parents lifeless cold bodies.
The Mandalorian had come so far, and now he needed to go even further. He had yet to achieve the perfect balance he strived for. He could only take his life one day at a time. Maybe one day he would reach the summit of his training. On that day he hoped they would reveal themselves to him. He hoped he’d hear his mother and fathers’ voices again. Maybe they would even forgive him for his weaknesses.
“Happy anniversary, Mother…Father…I’ll speak to you again soon. Maybe then you’ll speak back.”
Aiden took up his Mother’s Bes’bev and brough it up to his lips. Gently, he blew into the mouthpiece, the flute releasing a somber and eerie tune upon the wind. Carried across the distance, the gentle music was soothing to the ear.
Rhylance
The chrome plated office was lined with shelves and displays containing holobooks, awards, and medical and science treasures of all kinds acquired over years of expeditions and discovery. A lone desk occupied the center back of the room, seating a Chiss who was reading over recently submitted medical reports. To his left lay a stack of applications that had been submitted by interested parties looking to study and gain an education at the renowned SISSMA sponsored University. As headmaster, and chairman of the board, Rhylance held significant power and control over the enrollment process. Value intellect over all else, the Chiss Doctor was quite selective of his pupils, allowing only the best minds to attend his institute. He cared little for financial gain from his students. SISSMA was quite profitable without extorting the youth of finances they most likely had no access too. Attendance to SISSMA was merit based, holding no determination based on financial compensation.
“Doctor, you are aware of what today is, correct?” an artificial voice echoed as his droid assistant entered the office. M.O.R.S.E. was one of the few with the ability to enter Rhylance’s domain without prior permissions being granted.
“Of course, M.O.R.S.E. How could I not?”
“Am I to assume your plans for the day are not altered?”
“Yes, and no. I shall still need to see them. They deserve at least that much. However, I will be spending the night on an outing with Lady Vasano. Perhaps we can go dancing.”
“Oh Yes, Doctor. I am certain that Lady Vasano would simply relish the opportunity. She does so love to dance, after all.” M.O.R.S.E replied with a note of sarcasm in his tone.
“Why have I not decommissioned you yet? You are certainly a disrespectful droid.” the Chiss pondered with a hint of annoyance lacing his voice.
“I believe your exact words were, [ Normal sentients are too ignorant and unreliable to act as my assistant, as you do, ] however my recording could be faulty.”
Rhylance couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped his lips. M.O.R.S.E was one of the few he trusted so implicitly. Regardless of if he was built by Rhyalnce himself.
“Well, Doctor, I do hope that you and Lady Vasano have a grand night. And I hope your anniversary does what it needs for you.”
“Off with you M.O.R.S.E. I am sure you have more important matters to attend to.”
M.O.R.S.E simply left the room. As the doors slid shut and locked, Rhylance stood up from his desk and walked over to one of his office’s walls. He placed a hand on one of the “artifacts” and it began to glow before the entire wall opened up revealing a hidden room. The room was somewhat colder than the office and as Rhylance stepped through the opening, it closed behind him. Five panels opened up and became illuminated. Revealed by bright lights were five figures, frozen in cryopods. Their vitals were well, clearly all five were still alive. The five were Chiss, bearing striking a resemblance to Rhylance himself. The Doctor approached the center of the five.
“Hello Father…Mother….my Brothers and Sister. It has been some time.”
Images of his past came to the surface. He was the only sibling who hadn’t been Force sensitive. And for that he’d been ridiculed and treated with contempt. It didn’t matter that his intellect was so vastly superior. His family didn’t appreciate or understand his mind. Years of poor treatment had led to this eventuality. For nearly 13 years…Rhylance’s family had been frozen, their eternal punishment.
“I needed you all to know that my efforts have finally paid off. My connection is not perfect yet…but I have proven a scientific avenue to the Force. The power is now at my fingertips. And now I am truly the best of our family, despite what any of you may think. You thought you were my superiors but look at where we are. I continue, and you are icicles. Enjoy the cold.”
Rhylance began to walk away before smiling and turning back again.
“Happy Anniversary.”
She took it, and off they went into the rain hand in hand.
Right. There they were … those crucial details that placed his previous observations into their proper context. Over the last few weeks, Bril had noticed the subtle changes in Lulaire’s demeanor that happened whenever her Sith or Dark Side-aligned teammates were around. Normally quite the loquacious and upbeat individual, she became notably more withdrawn whenever they were around. She’d done so during their first official meeting as a team and during subsequent training sessions. At first, he’d wondered if she was just taking her time getting used to so many new faces, but now it all made sense.
He inhaled, taking the time to straighten the papers on his desk to buy himself some more time before he had to speak. Once he was ready, he did so with a measured, yet sympathetic tone.
“First, I want to say I’m sorry about the members of your conclave, and about your sister. I can’t blame you for feeling the way you do. I don’t particularly care for being around Sith myself, save for the few who have shown me that subscribing to Sith ideology doesn’t mean that you have to also be a monster. Unfortunately, though, not everyone sees it that way.
"At the moment, none of our members check that box, but my voice is not the only one that determines who joins the Marshals. And we do already have Sith, albeit relatively well-behaved ones, in our ranks. I don’t need to remind you that you’ll have to learn to work alongside them in some capacity. And if there comes a time where they do need to be held accountable for their actions, you won’t hear me telling you not to do what you feel you have to in order to ensure the safety of your team or the people of Dajorra. I expect as much from every Marshal … myself included.”
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
He paused, reflecting on the actions of a certain Kaleesh Sith who had behaved dishonorably during Operation Brimstone, who had maimed and even murdered innocents and even threatened to do so to his allies. He was in the wind, for now, but his time was coming.
Eevie
The echoing crash of thunder in the distance pierced the veil of the night after the blinding flash of lighting illuminated the secluded area. Rain cascaded from the sky, its meeting with the ground a musical of natural melodies. Eevie always liked the rain. It felt like the sky was lifting the weights of the world off of her shoulders with its gentle caress. It was freeing and the smell of the world around her was pure and electric. But the rain held no comfort for her today. Not here. There was no comfort to be had here.
The Sephi stood in uncharacteristic black clothing. Her natural prominence of color was missing today, and her normally pink and white locks looked pale and dead in comparison. She loved pink…but today wasn’t a pink day. Not as she stood in front of the unmarked grave in front of her. Two years…it had been two years since the man’s death. That man…the one whom “owned her” for so long. Unconsciously her right hand crept towards her left. While many wouldn’t notice, she could feel the difference. What was flesh. What was machine. She was no longer whole, and that was because of him. Because of Cin.
Much like her left eye, and the scars that littered her body, Cin Zvar’atta had taken pieces of her away for many years. She was “free” now though. Free to live her life as she wants. The enjoy her remaining years, however short or long those might be. She was no one’s property anymore. But some part of her was still missing. That was Cin’s. What he took from her. What she could never recover. She thought that she’d been close though. Brown eyes bore into her amethyst ones in her mind. Eyes that promised love, protection, strength. Eyes that would never stare into hers like that again.
Eevie was alone today, and she wasn’t as strong as she hoped. The rain hid the tears that fell from her eyes. Tears she’d never let anyone else see. She knew her power. Her Light. She was one of the best pilots in the galaxy. Her aim was up there with the best. Her mind worked wonders at the Sabbacc tables, and few could dent her “poker face” as one of the most unreadable. She shouldn’t need to be with anyone to prove her worth or value, and she knew that she didn’t need to. But that didn’t stop the loneliness. It didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts, blinding her like the light of the sun. At times it was like she was swimming in an ocean that only grew more and more vast and uncontrollable. But she wouldn’t let herself drown. She would batten down her hatches and live on.
She **Was* strong.*
She **Was* worthy.*
She just needed to remember that. Today was the last day. No longer would she shed tears for Cin, for her parents’ betrayal, for anyone from her past.
“Happy Anniversary Cin. Now rot and know I will never come back. I won’t let you hold onto me anymore.”
Sofila rose an eyebrow when he called her beautiful. She wholeheartedly disagree, considering the burn scar on half of her face. It took Cole ages to finally get her comfortable about it but it still was in the back of her mind sometimes. Today was one of them.
She was going to flirt right on back but then she remembered, she was committed. Thankfully, Alex had seemingly distracted her with the handshake as she grinned and gripped him in the forearm as he gripped hers.
Then she winced as she let go when Alex brought up about working with her. Kriff. More lives to be responsbile for.
Zig didn’t help the matters any. Fearless
Reckless to many others, Sofila mentally mused.
“Heh, yea uh–” She scratched her cheek as she cleared her throat. “New Quaestor so … still learning. Wait, what?” Sofila rose an eyebrow towards Zig. “You all should be getting paid, am I forgetting something? Kark!” She started to scroll her datapad, what was this about her members not getting paid!? This was a high risk job!
<@189568236201705472>
“Kidding, boss,” Zig replied quickly. “Salary and stipends are nice, but the ship herself is the real winner. I didn’t even mention the pool, or state of the art training facility…”
“Well, boss, if I can be of any help please do feel free to let me know. I have been around the block more than a few times in regard to command, and am always willing to offer some advice - or just a friendly ear to vent to,” his hand fell to his helmet where it hung on a belt hook, and he began idly drumming at it as he turned back to Zig.
“It does all sound quite impressive, but I am a difficult man to convince. Perhaps, at least, I may come by some day for a training session if I tire of my personal gym aboard the Herald.” Alex offered a loose salute to the other two.
“But with that, I think I will be off for now. I am sure I have already taken up enough of your time, and you both must have more important things to address this morning. For my part, I have a whole asteroid station to explore. Though I believe this time,” he canted his head and pointed toward the exit leading through the ‘Naruba Investments’ façade, “I shall go through the main door. That tunnel was rather long and tight, and while I usually do not mind as such, I believe I have had my fill of spelunking for the day.”
And having said so, he strode toward the exit, offering a casual wave goodbye over his shoulder as he went. <@189568236201705472>
“M'kay,” the Zygerrian managed to reply as the Human said his piece and walked off.
Zig glanced sidelong at Sofila. “Hehe, he said ‘long’ and ‘tight’,” she snickered as she lightly elbowed the Quaestor. She straightened, becoming more sincere. “Also he is right- you look stunning today, as usual. Don’t forget it.” She patted the taller woman on the shoulder before turning her attention back to her datapad and wandering off.
Minnie’s expression – while maybe a little horrendous thanks to the mask – was melted sugar as she turned around to face him more properly and stretched up to cup his cheeks.
“Kitty, anything with you is special. Kark with a fancy place, baby, you’re running yourself ragged, you need to rest. And tobehonest I’d like that better too, just some holoflix and chill, yanno? Cuddle up,” she bumped their hips, “maybe some curry, Femi butt in our faces. The good stuff. Yah?”
A tender and slightly doleful smile appeared on Bril’s face as she spoke. He pressed his cheek into her touch and sighed.
“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he admitted, reaching up to hold one of her hands while matching her gaze. “I picked a crazy time to step into this new position, and you’ve been hear with me every step of the way, holding me up when I fall and doing so much than I would ever ask you to. I love you, Minnie.”
“That’s my line, ner di'kut'ika,” she huffed fondly, a bit sad but adoring. She pinched his cheek. “I love you too. Don’t you say you don’t deserve me, that’s an order. Gottit?”
Today was like every other day. Siv got up, took a shower, meditated, made breakfast for herself and a very groggy Mandalorian. She made Alex’s lunch like she did every day, watered their plant babies like she did every morning.
Today was a normal day, except it wasn’t.
Today was the anniversary of the day she was thrown out on the streets of Coruscant and left for dead. Today was the anniversary of the day that the Grants shoved her in a speeder with one of the Servants and sent her to the slums under the pretense that it was another training exercise, with a holo that Connor said would give her instructions once she reached her destination.
Except the holo gave her the news that she was being abandoned and then exploded so she couldn’t sell it for credits. She had stood there, frozen in panic, for two hours. Everything in her life was gone— the Grants, even as horribly as they treated her, we’re all she had left.
Siv sighed softly into her coffee cup, looking over Fort Blindshot from where she sat on the top of one of the office buildings. The sun had just begun to rise, casting pink across the sky and turning the clouds into strawberry cotton candy. Galeres’ quaestrix took a deep breath, drawing the ocean air and whisps of the Force into her lungs. She used the fragments of the energy that flowed through everything to center herself, stopping the trembling that had settled into her fingers.
When she breathed out the rot that had begun to flourish in her thoughts left her as well.
Sanguine eyes settled on the people beginning to wake in the city below— children heading to the civilian school, servicemen beginning their morning jogs, the infastructure workers beginning their daily rounds.
“Happy Freedom Anniversary, Siva,” she mumbled softly to herself, taking a sip of the macchiato in her hands.
She’d come so far in a year.
Blessed with friends and family and belonging. With purpose.
Life was good.
Ol-Tun Askomos City, the Farrow Compound 36ABY
“Miss Lottson.”
Zuza paused in place, about to step into the living room after Cole and Graham. She glanced, seeing them staring back at her but other than a slight look of concern from the brothers, there was no offer of help.
She turned, smiling slightly up at Trevor Farrow. He didn’t return it.
“With me. This won’t take long.”
He walked past her, heading toward the staircase and seemingly leaving a chill behind him. Zuza threw another glance to Cole, who shook his head.
It was never good when Cole didn’t know what was going on.
She followed Trevor, after a minute stepping into his office. She’d been here a scant few times over the last year, usually with someone else with her. It was a plain room, some books but mostly storage for blueprints, case files and what other information Trevor had decided to keep privately rather than in the storage room of the main building.
A picture frame on his desk was the only piece of sentiment on display.
He sat down, gesturing for Zuza to do the same and once she was seated, didn’t waste time.
“Why are you here, Miss Lottson?”
“What.” Upon the question not being repeated, Zuza frowned, “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
“It’s been over a year since Cole first brought you here. You have exceeded expectations in survival and general capability, I thought you’d be dead about nine months ago. You refuse to quit trying to gain an official place here. Why?”
“Because of Cole-”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not!”
“If you were here for Cole alone you wouldn’t have been willing to kill people on missions where he wasn’t even present. Protection is one thing, but reports have shown you’re capable of more than that.”
Zuza opened her mouth before shutting it a moment after.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I already said because of Cole, Mr Farrow. I love him, I don’t think anythin’ I’ve done says any different.”
Zuza met his gaze, steely blue eyes that gave nothing. He could have been looking into her soul and she’d have believed it. She shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t continue speaking.
She.. wasn’t lying. There wasn’t anything more to it than that. The doubt blossoming was pushed aside by Trevor continuing.
“There will be one more test. We need information from a Zabraki man who has connections with one of our enemies. You will participate alongside Cole and Graham.”
“I will.” Zuza agreed, a sudden surge of relief. Was that really it?
A long moment passed, “You can certainly try. You may go now.” He waved toward the door, still watching her but Zuza simply smiled and got up, exiting the room with excitement bubbling.
They just had to question a dude. Find him, get the intel, and.. That was it. It’d be easy.
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
What a lovely day.
That’s what Savi thought as they walked along a path that wound its way through the Ophi Trails situated a few miles south of Estle City. A gentle breeze rolled through their plumage, carrying with it hints of pine and other sufficiently earthy scents. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, bathing both the shani femme and their charhound, Xolotl, in its warmth.
“Enjoying the weather as much as I am?” they asked the creature, its caxette nature endowing it with both canid and feline characteristics. They didn’t expect an answer, of course, but it was still nice to see that its training had taken root enough for it to respond to the sound of their voice. As they walked, Savi reached into their pack to fetch a large slab of meat that was only partially cooked. After biting a modest portion of it, they tossed it into the air for their pet.
Xolotl locked onto it and belched up a mote of flame that cooked the meat instantly on contact, producing a rough char across its surface that it could then eat happily.
“Good boy,” Savi said.
||Pink.
plp p.lp…plp
She could be pink. She could be she. She could be anything you wanted to be.
…plp p.lp…
Deeper.
The white porcelain splatters and stains, pretty cracked enamel yellow with teeth with time with piss and vomit and glittering rhyme. plp p.lp. The water running makes a thin thin thin orange tinge but she’s going for pink.
Just can’t… get…the shade.
The mirror is cracked from where she last punched it and the glowbank is flickering staccato a'buzz, her personal bees in a metal forest starving off oil for nectar. She doesn’t need to see her face straight. She’s not looking for features, she’s making a color, it’s about saturation and shade.
Her gums weren’t right, so she cut deeper.
Bright copper-clinging red flows down the knife down her tooth down her hand and wrist and arm and drips off her elbow–
plpp.lpplp p.lpplp p.lp
–into the basin and plummets diffusion clouding the stream. A redcap offering. An open vein not in vain.
PLP
Oh, there’s the tooth, gone away.
The red runs runs runs.
She leans close to the sink, gripping both sides, bloody lips brushing the water, watching it ruddy. There.
There.
There there there’s pink. That’s just right.
She holds that hue in her hand and licks salt-copper hubris, spitting aside. The hollow runs red and ruin and she doesn’t need it anymore.
Her bones crack.
Her skin rips and reforms– pink. Ladylike, fawning, bubbly pink. Just the right tone, water and blood, not petals too fond in her memory. Yes, that’s right. She just needed a sample swatch.||
||- She spits blood again, salvia and artistry. A new tooth erupts into place, borrowed toe bone. No one will look at this face’s feet anyway, they’ll be covered. She could do without them entire.
But then how to walk this wire? Shame, shame.
She pulled the plug and turned away, listening to her blood flushing, thinking, vicious, of its waste, and a smile pulls wide across her face while her jaw snaps into place. Down the drain, like the rain! Your precious precious property, gone!
The sewers could choke on it.
She choked on her tongue as her pretty pink legs broke and stretched longer, taller. The ceiling spun. Her phantom bumbles buzzed a song and she drank from her absconded isopropyl like their larvae did of royal jelly, sustenance and succor.
Her eyes uncrossed, and she kept walking, rebroken in stride. Gathered up her bag and dipped out the door. The neon of the fuel depot shone on her pink pink hide, just right for the part.
She set to playing.||
Indeed it was a lovely day, as most Selenian days were (volcanic cataclysm notwithstanding). As the Shani and hound walked further through the trails, their hunter’s eyes were suddenly caught by a bright, shining flash of color.
While the luscious foliage around had plenty of color, this figure was something else entirely. Deep, pale lilac skin, golden scales and eyes wide and surrounded by shining lashes, very literally shining, glinting with the sunlight that spilled directly on them. The figure’s hair reflected the light with each miniscule movement or brush of the breeze, like a spilled bag of treasure. It had a tail? And horns or montrals. Pitifully thin, hardly any meal. Bundles of herbs tied about its waist with many sashes and soft draping clothes.
And it was staring at them. That blatantly, mouth slightly agape, staring. As if it had emerged from the bushes – it was standing in one, matter of fact – and been struck dumb by the sight.
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
Swimming.
Her body is bare, free from the restrictiveness of heavy beskar’gam. Muscles pull and flex beneath skin alit by the lambent glow of her own bioluminescence, empowering every twist and twirl within the crystalline depths of the Selenian ocean with the breathtaking speed and grace. While Minnow gives herself to what undoubtedly comes as natural to her as breathing, Bril is left to watch her in silent awe.
She was beautiful.
Aibyss laid sprawled out in the grass in front of Foxen and Flyndt’s home, blackened eyes staring upwards at the stars— staring in the quadrant that carried Omwat’s star. It was too far for her to see without one of the looking contraptions, but she still knew it was there. It would have to be enough.
She reached up towards the section of the sky, dark fingers grasping for the planet that she would never be able to reach.
It had been so long she forgot what Omwat smelled like.
She could recall how she used to describe the way it smelled, but not the sensation itself. Her silver hues blinked, chasing away wetness. The boys were inside, Foxen hovering, wanting, willing, silently pleading, wilting. Flyndt was drowning in the thoughts of his destiny and the path before him, bones weary, mind wirring. She would not bother them with her hurts, and she knew they were too busy with their own to notice hers. That was fine. Sorrow tended to drown a person, keeping them from seeing and observing.
Aib’s hand dropped to her side and her eyes drifted closed, visions of the past filling the space behind her eyelids.
A blade against her throat, seething. She could feel their anger, their fear.
Her hands clung to the satchel around her neck even as they tried to tear it away.
‘No! Please! I can heal them! You can kill me after but please let me save our people! Nth’al’o please!’ the desperation in her voice stung her throat as she strained against the very warriors she had trained.
‘Please before it’s too late! I can still save them! You know I wouldn’t come back if I didn’t have a good enough reason! My friend, please listen to me!’
Silence as the black omwati before her stared her down, furs lining his waist, bones dangling in necklaces along his tattoo’d chest. A few tiny colored feathers were laced in his plumage. Seconds passed as the leader of her tribe thought, everyone on edge, every feather, every weapon.
-
‘Fine,’ he replied, and the relief she felt nearly took her out at the knees.
Eyes opened once more to look at the starry sky, wetness now staining her face. It had been three years now since that day. The day she lost everything, lost her home, lost her purpose in life. She did not regret it. No, she would suffer the pain a million times to save her people. She’d give her life even now, even cast out, forbidden from ever returning.
It did not mean she did not miss her home.
She missed it so much.
How curious.
Here they thought they’d be alone this early in the morning, and yet there he was … a bundle of colors more vibrant even than Savi’s own. A steadying hand found the top of Xolotl’s head to keep him calm. The last thing they wanted was the beast pouncing on someone who didn’t deserve it. This one seemed startled, not unlike a fathier caught in the glare of a speeder’s lights.
“And who might you be?” asked Savi coolly, eyeing the lilac-skinned being with an inquisitive, if not vulturine gaze.
If Savi had thought the person startled before, it was nothing to when they spoke. It yelped and dropped what it was holding, an armload of fruits, and dropped even more swiftly to the ground to bow on hands and knees.
“A-apologies, Mistress! This one did not mean to stare! It is sorry, it..uhm…”
Gold eyes peeked back up at her, trying to assess if this was another time to begin apologizing for bowing in the first place or not.
A tapered, feathered eyebrow raised in response to the figure’s sudden change in demeanor. Usually, people only behaved like this around them after Savi put them in their place, either through physical coercion or through using their extensive resources and connections to pressure them into falling in line. But this one had already been given that treatment … been broken. The irksome feeling of pity started to bubble up within Savi’s mind.
“Alright, alright … enough of that. Stand up, will you? You’re going to make a scene.”
There was no one else around, of course, but hopefully he would listen and spare them from further discomfort.
“Yes, Mistress!” The figure jerked back up, and then cringed a bit, looking away and back. That tail flicked close to his body as he recited what he’d been practicing. “I mean. Ma'am. Or sir. Or. This one– I. Apologies. Sorry.” He took a deep breath, shuffling. “B-bowing is –was the rule. I am still learning the new rules. Apologies for staring. Messerh is quite unique. This one though they were a new species of the Selen’s fauna. Many are so chimerical. But you seem a sapient. This one has never met a species it did not know. It has known very very many.”
Lulaire shook her head softly when Bril had started to apologize about the loss, her cowlick swaying by the force of the shake.
“Don’t worry about it, they are at peace and once with the Force.”
She wasn’t sure if the Siths were ‘always’ well-behaved. They are now, yes, but sometimes it just takes that one hay bale to drop and whoosha, hay and dust everywhere.
“Yeaaaaaa I reckon that. That’s why I said I do be understandin’ if it culdn’t be done ya. I just not rather have to take down a friend if it came to it.” Lulaire said honestly. There was sternness behind her voice, showing she can fight them if she must.
She just rather not.
Lulaire started to pat down her overalls, dirt puffing up in a cloud with each pat she did. Then she slipped her hand into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
“I hafta go deliver this to someone, dun’t tell anyone but I do believe one of my cousins had developed a puppy crush on a chickadee somewhere around here.” Lulaire grinned.
“Need anything else from little ol’ me?”
It is a time of day.
Foxen goes through motions. Cleaning in quadrants of the kitchen, picking up a folded throw blanket on the couch and refolding it. The result is worse than it was, unequal corners, sloppy angles. He the body thought it could fix something, and fails.
It’s a theme.
These are liminal hours. Flyndt sleeps in their nest, restless. Foxen couldn’t stand to stay. He wanted to curl up closer too much. Aibyss’ isn’t in the living room and she isn’t out, so that leaves her own nest that he has been delinquent on properly building. He has seen the lines of her charcoal and ash face, brows creased with swallowed pain and too much kindness. It intensifies when she offers to cook dinner, when she tells him to go rest.
Can he do something.
It feels like moving through a thick fog to raise the hand to knock. Then he stops.
He knows from Flyndt and Bril that proximity is a factor. Instead he leaves painkillers with explicit instructions for dosage by her door along with whipped frozen fluff salad and retreats down the hall at maximum haste.
Their nest calls. Flyndt calls. He could sit there and watch him sleep, tell him things. He could.
But.
The body is heavy.
Maybe he cleans knives. Maybe he sits in this spot and doesn’t move again. Non-Mission productive.
He’s in the gym. Walking by Flyndt’s notes plastered to the mirror, lines strung between them, scribbles in chalk ink.
He’d liked those chalk markers. Made a coo when they got them.
His staff is here. It sits on a nightstand absconded for a table, the water rings of many ignored glasses of sparkling water or tea dappling it now like light through a canopy.
Critical sleep deprivation engages wobbliness in all things.
1/
But the thought suddenly strikes that he never introduced himself.
The he Foxen pauses.
He has not asked Flyndt permission to speak to his mother. However: if she is the crystal, is spirit, as Flyndt has indicated in quiet, stilted sentences with chasms between the words, then she has her own measure of independence. It would violate her self to seek permission from anyone but her.
Complicated.
Wobbly.
He sits a little bit away from the beautifully crafted lightsaber and stares for a time.
Flyndt told him of his Atta, that first Kote Ky'ram, when Foxen shared his mother’s mourning, asked Flyndt to help him return to the sea. But his Home had not wanted to discuss his mother.
He still didn’t even know her name.
Oh well. Tactical flexibility et cetera something.
Hello, Flyndt’s W-H-I, he begins. Sorry. Haven’t made a sign for it with Flyndt yet. No need. Pause. He thinks of what he wants to say to Gaile, when they meet. To Auntie Inid Low. He has practiced these words so often that even in highest malfunction he could say them. I am Bite That Catches Fox Diving Into Den, of Clan Erinos. I love your son, and I Know him as he Knows me. He is everything to me, and my world is his. I swear to you I would never harm him or take any choice away. I swear that I will live every moment of every day loving him, providing for him, making him happy if I can, as he does for me. I will keep him safe–
His hands stutter. Because he did not keep him safe. Flyndt died in his arms. And Siva brought him back. And.
And.
He fought to take a breath quaked by tears, hitching and choking.
2/
I am sorry, I’m so fraking sorry I wasn’t enough without your Force but I will try I swear I will try I wouldn’t let it happen again I’d die first, and if he dies then I will follow. I swear to you he need never be alone except by choice in this life or your next. I will be there. For as long as he permits me, I will be there always. It is all I want. Just him. For him to be the happiest and safe.
Pause.
Wipe the palms on– oh there is no shirt. The pants then. Like an animal*DENY* like a pleb. Sloppy. Wobbly. Great presentation, pal, being sweaty and sobbing in front of his mother. She’s sure gonna approve of you now.
As if that was ever a possibility.
I–
What?
He blinks slowly, dislodging more moisture. What is he even saying.
I don’t know. But. Your son is amazing. So clever so deadly so kind and ruthless and fiery and brilliant. You really fraked up, missing out on it. Pay attention now you’re here. And thank you for birthing him. In a way you also changed my life forever. Pause. You make a suitable shade of citrine. Pause. I love him. O.K. Goodnight.
It’s on theme, alright.
He gets back up, eventually, when everything stops spinning so damn much. Goes back to their room. Sinks down at the very edge of their nest and sits and watches until the sun rises, soaking in the stillness.
Flyndt breathes, uneasy, hee-hoo. Foxen reaches out, tugs at the sheets without touching, but enough pull to slowly roll the Omwati more onto his back, and the hitch in his snoring evens out. More optimal position achieved.
“I love you. O.K. I’m here. We’re here,” he whispers.
For now. 3/3
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
Savi remained quite for a moment, watching him with all the curiosity one might expect from a predator deciding whether to make a prey or a mere plaything out of whatever lied before them.
“You appear to be a hybrid of some kind, yourself,” they noted. Most notably, he resembled someone they knew. “And yes, there aren’t many of us around these parts. It wouldn’t surprise me if I was the only one of my kind on this entire planet. I am a Shani.”
:BrilSymbol:
“You and me both,” Bril concurred, “I take no pleasure in the thought of having to stop an ally, especially a friend. I’m not a Jedi like you but we both belong to a tradition – a lineage – that endows us with the power and responsibility to stand against injustice and evil wherever we find it.
"I will keep your request in mind, though. We have enough members at present where shifting people around isn’t a problem.”
He tilted his head upon hearing what she said next, his curiosity momentarily getting the better of him. But it was none of his business, and likely would cross some unspoken rule should he, as her boss, pry.
“I’m good if you’re good, Lulinsky. Still workshopping the nickname, it'sfine it'sfine.”
“Yes, Mistress,” confirmed the figure quickly and dutifully to their statement, then listened. The tip of that kaleidoscopic tail flicked with curiosity at the mention of her species, and a hand twitched towards the satchel it wore. “A…Shani,” he repeated slowly. “Shani. Shani. This is you. Incredible.” Again a twitch, and he gnawed visibly on his lip, all but vibrating in place, before seeming to come to a decision. “M-may t-this one…ask you, about your species? And p-perhaps record it? Mistress? It only– a new species! So rare and fascinating. What if Miss has two hearts like a Zabrak? What if they are hollow boned or their blood is copper-based instead of iron? How would this one treat them if they ever met another, or you had been hurt? It is critical knowledge.”
Savi blinked. They had never encountered someone who was so fascinated in learning about their species. Well, other than Severin, at least.
“I suppose that’s okay,” they replied with a wave of the hand before looking around to find a place to sit. They settled on a large log, folding one leg across their knee.
“Come, sit.”
“Okie dokie, that do be soundin’ good, Bril.” Before she left however, the nickname didn’t escape as Lula gave him a very blank stare.
“Huh?”
Then she paused for a moment. “I dunno if this will change ya mind, but I sorta mighta have a bit fear of heights.” She gave him two thumbs up.
This was her idea. She just hoped it would work out. Cole and Sof’s tension had gotten so high that even her apartment started to feel like a battle zone. Hopefully, a night out can give them both the breath of air they needed. They were on Selen, there was Summit meetings after another and another. She figured it might be for a while because everything that had happened. It was finally starting to calm down and they were going back to Port Ol'Val tomorrow. Why not have a night out? A small refresher?
She was concerned because it started raining. Luckily, it was just rain forecast for the rest of the night. A puddle splashed when her boots landed on it. She wore a simple t-shirt that said ‘My Buir went to Naboo and all I got was this overpriced shirt’ and cargo pants. Her blaster was strapped at her thigh and as always, her beskar dagger that had been handed down was in it’s hidden sheath at her lower back.
Her purple curly hair was free from any confides as it bounced with any movements she had made. She glanced to the building and had finally found it. She entered, shivered for a moment with the sudden coldness when she was a bit damp from the rain, and started to look for Cole. Knowing him, he might already be here and be on his first or second glass. She looked to the bar and grinned at seeing him. She took in a deep breath and exhaled through her lips. Today wasn’t so bad. She got this.
I got this. There will be no angry episodes from me today. With that, she went to the figure, quickly kissed him on the cheek, and sat down by him. She knows he doesn’t like to be shown affection in public but as long she was quick with the peck on the cheek and move on, Cole minded it less so.
“Sorry Cole, there was a lot more paperwork then I - WAH!” Sofila yelped in surprised when she had finally turned to look at the figure. Under the dim lights, his brown hair looked darker, almost black like Cole. And he did not have the blue eyes that Cole has. Or the scars on his face.
“You’re not Cole!”
She started to feel hot as her face went muddy brown and her eyes frantically looked around for Cole. And her eyes met with icy blue hues belonged to Cole. He was at the other end of the bar. He was holding a glass in front of his lips, and she cannot tell if he was frowning or being amused. She darted back to the stranger whose cheek she just kissed.
“OH! Suns suns suns-” Sofila scrambled to get off of the seat, “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attent-” She yelped as her foot got caught at the bottom frame of the chair and fell onto her ass with a thud.
“I’m fine!” Sofila yelped as she got up and made her way over to Cole very quickly, sat down by him, and pulled her shirt over to half of her face where only anything above her nose can be seen as she slowly started to slink down the stool.
Cole watched, knowing making a big deal out of her approach would only make things worse and waiting for her to sat down before looking to her with a mite of amused concern and a raised eyebrow.
He put his arm on her shoulder so she wouldn’t sink enough to fall off the stool and spoke as quietly as the hubbub of the bar would allow, “I did wonder if I should have sat closer to the door. Do you want me to get you a drink?”
Cole did his best to keep his voice even, not wanting to openly be amused at her embarrassment but it was funny. Espeically being as he knew that guy, and it wasn’t the first time he and Avery had been mistaken for each other. Which was weird but at least it was consistent.
“It does not,” Bril replied, returning the thumbs up with a smile before returning to his studies.
“No. I’m not, Cole… but you could at least ask me on a date first,” Avery said with a wink and a chuckle. Since he was under the influence of his drink, his time to react to the woman falling was slow. By the time he was out of his seat she was already next to the man she meant to kiss. He returned to his seat and took another sip of his beverage.
“Don’t worry about it. Cole’s got good genetics like me.” He smiled at the pair amicably and waved a hand before returning back to his lonely drink.
Sofila was covering the top part of her forehead which was still rather reddish brown with the top of her hand.
“Yes please…” She murmured towards Cole when he offered to get a drink for her.
“Is he still looking at me?” Sofila whispered hastily to Cole as she went to peek over.
“He mentioned something about a date and that you have good gen-” She straightened up when she realized something. He looked… lonely. Her heart twisted.
“Oh.”
<@315438760428961793>
Pale pink fingers smoothed a gorgeous gown of the exact same shade– a gorgeous pastel pink. She had been in this bathroom for at least an hour and a half now, and a warning comm message of ‘you have five more minutes, Coeur’ flashed across the mirror.
She had been dressed, made up, perfumed, and primmed for at least forty five minutes now; but it was the anxiety in her stomach that had kept her staring at her reflection in the mirror. Ivory colored motrals were spruced up with pale pink glitter and blush, trying to give them a more softened appearence along the rose gold scales that spattered across their surface into her face. Her makeup was chosen so very carefully, trying to accentuate her features while leaving an aetherial feeling. Snow white hair had been gathered into a mass of curls and braids terminating into a bun, with rose gold beads and rings decorating it.
The dress itself was sheer over her arms, torso, and had a split to show of her musculature and whatever curves she had. She wanted to look like a goddess. She wanted to be the only thing that he stared at tonight.
She smoothed her dress again, the soft golden hue of her nails glittering in the light. Two more sprits of perfume, a personalized scent made from flowers on Candannia.
This was the first dinner Aidyyn had ever invited her to, the first party with other members of his circle, with investors and brokers and important people. She would not look like some backwater savage islander, she would not embarrass him. The event was black tie, and she knew what that meant. She had spent weeks doing research to find suitable clothing, suitable makeup, suitable conduct.
One last breath, one last took at the pink and white figure staring back at her in the mirror, and then she walked out. Aiddyn would be waiting downstairs near speeders. She hoped her appearence pleased him.
Pink Cheese
||What came out of his nose was nothing short of disgusting, a rosy substance with the consistency of cheesecake.
He heaved between attempts at speech. His hand trembling as he dragged his body over the gravel, blood snot trailing along his chin and spilling over his bomber jacket.
“Why do you crawl away? Is it fear that pushes you, or do you cling to hope?” A sultry but sinister voice inquired inquisitively.
There was a distinct clicking sound accompanied by a metal ringing. The man could only maffle as he retched.
“N-nhn!” was all the sound he could produce as he pushed forward.
“We had an agreement, you would tell me of the Sith woman and I would get rid of your old friend,” the tone in the woman’s voice hardened.
“Now your wife is dead, your children are being ground up by your dear pal over there. Why do you still run? What hope could you have left?”
Dirt crunched and joints crackled as a platform crushed the man’s hand. A claw enveloped his scalp, digging into his olive skin, pulling his face back.
“Spasms, no hope, not even a pupil in sight.”
His eyes had rolled back into his skull. His motor functions continued as his mind sank into oblivion.
The unliving, crawling as if bacteria, producing pink cheese. Pathetic.||
<:BrilSymbol:1229273661266067506>
Bril stood, lost within the depths of Minnie’s walk-in closet. Pinks of every shade and saturation surrounded him, mocking him.
“Why is there so much?” he asked, but no one answered. Soon, silence consumed the space. Only pink remained.
He screamed.
Bril didn’t know if he was even on the floor or some hellscape nullspace when he collapsed finally from exhaustion but he didn’t still have his datapad. With only one hope of rescue since his pur'ika was off at a boba date with Elly, he texted his last hope for a hero.
🥼: Brosiden help I need an extraction 🦈: is this or is this not an actual emergency if you have time to type that drivel 🥼: plz it’s serious 🦈: location/enemies/t-00:05:00 Flyndt and self inbound 🥼: Minnie’s closet idk where anymore there’s just pink 🦈: •°•°•° 🦈: •°•°•° 🦈: I’ll make sure the invitations I send for your funeral are an appropriate blue to compliment your eyes
Bril tossed his head back and like the Sith Lords he studied yelled once more.
“NOOOOOOOooooooo”
[And he was never heard from again. At least until Femi came in meowing and tried to get under the shoe rack where she KNOWS she’s not supposed to be–]
Right-o, time to find Elly. This was gonna be a needle in haystack- Lulaire grinned at seeing Elly.
“Or not. HIDEE-HOOOO ELLY!” Lulaire shouted, waving as she ran up to Elly.
“So! I got a note for ya from my cousin, ya remember? The one you went a-rollin’ in da hay?” Lulaire handed Elly the note.
“Ya, she smitten with you! Kinda cute really but if ya want, I dun’t mind letting her down gently.”
<@301514304845381632>
Humming filled the air along with birdsong and the buzzing of bumbles and the sounds of the street below. The balcony doors were open, letting in the sea breeze and the smell of thick floral notes and fresh dirt, turned from the garden bed installed there the last months. The delicate newlings that had been transplanted had solidly taken root, and the seeds that they were learning how to grow had started to sprout.
When those first green shoots had emerged, delicately uncovered from a damp paper towel on a plate, two leaves tinier than Lektra’s nail on her littlest finger, Sulla had jumped for joy at her success. Now they were sprouting from the soil, a little bit stronger still.
Inside, Rue turned and paced in circles, humming in turns. Lektra kept crying. Sulla was at school, and Elly at work, and he and little Lektra had had a fussy morning. He couldn’t just stay overnight and constantly numb the pain of her teething, so the baby had slept poorly and sorely and was still not done telling him about it. Certainly not ready for breakfast yet.
So instead he paced and they bounced and rocked, and it was so lovely, to have such space to walk in, to step into the sunlight, to smell the flowers, to sing above a whisper.
“There, there, little climbing ivy,” he consoled, swaying between stanzas. “There there, I know, I know. I know it hurts and you are very tired. I know. I am here. I have got you.”
She was healthy, he reminded himself, kissing her puffy red cheek and her shining carmine-orchid hair.
“How about…we have a little…” The hybrid trailed off, bit his lip, looked around. But it was just them, in Elly’s apartment, on the Selen, and Hunyi would be by, and they’d go and find their dinner, and cuddle Alk, and he’d hear about Sulla’s day, and Elly’s, and so many good things. “A little…dance? This one hasn’t danced in…a very long time.”
- Not since he was small himself, when Grandmother was still with them. She’d shown him once, when the red eyes winked out one night. Their secret, one of many. Over and over they’d danced.
He swayed and bobbed and played with Alk, but this…he didn’t even fully remember. How long ago? Sixty years? Fifty?
Rue took a few steps, trying to recall. Then a few more. Twisted at the hips, and lifted Lektra a bit, as if to toss her for Uppsie Daisies. She scream-squealed, hiccuping, unsure what to do with the motion when she was busy crying, thank you kindly.
He smiled at her, and nuzzled her nose.
“Like this, I think.”
And they kept going, step step twirl turn, lift the foot. He didn’t have the other hand anymore to do it right and couldn’t keep hold of her anyway so couldn’t lift his arms, so it wasn’t like Grandmother did. Their people’s dances, she said. Ryn. It was always nice, how she treated him so much like hers.
“And we’d go…just…like this!” They twirled again, and Lektra started to laugh. “That’s right, baby, yes!” He laughed too, and kept going, humming a new song now for the dancing.
They danced out onto the balcony, and standing in the sunlight, with the flowers, couldn’t stop smiling for quite awhile.
2/2
After having visited Fort Blindshot’s extensive training room, Ellisyn Kendis decided to take a break outside before heading back to Estle City to her small apartment. She loved taking advantage of her Marshal privileges and using the equipment granted by the organization in the fort, but sitters were expensive, and Elly wasn’t made of money. At least she wasn’t before. With multiple sources of income now and almost zero free time, the woman was able to live steadily, but she was still unable to shake her old habits.
She was sat on a bench when Lulaire’s loud greeting caught her attention. The woman looked over at her fellow Firrerreo and flashed a smile. She wasn’t able to share many days with Lulaire, but she always loved the days she could. The farmer handed her a note, and she quirked a brow. “Your cousin…?” Elly thought for a moment before remembering the cousin in question, and a quick blush graced her cheeks. “Oh right, your cousin. She still talks about me? I was sure she would’ve forgotten about me by now.”
Lulaire ignored that Elly turned silver. She reckon that Elly wouldn’t like that pointed out.
“Naw. but if we tell her that you ain’t interested, she will soon e'nuff and find someone else to roll in the hay with.” Lulaire nodded, her side cowlick bobbing with her nod.
…Ka-thunk…
…Chnk…
…Thunk…
Small sandled taloned feet scuffed and kicked at the pebbles littering the hillside. They scattered, bounce and rolled, snagging on clusters of grass peaking out of the clay baked earth. A blue-green hued hand reached down and snagged a handful of stones. The young Omwati glanced back towards the west, down at the few yurts set up on the rolling grassland. There was a few beasts of burden and livelyhood grazing and napping freely in the open land around them. Sometimes Atta would guide one and let the youth ride on its back.
At least Atta cared.
Gaile wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffled hard and turned towards the meandering brook the clan had settled next to. He set about tossing the pebbles one by one, watching and listening for each ‘plonk.’
The breeze picked up after the fifth, rustling his mottled yellow and brown-grey down and blinding him temporarily behind his feathery bangs.
“Your aim is good, Senya, that of a warrior.”
Pausing mid throw, Gaile lowered his hand and turned. Walking towards him was a woman he had not met before, dressed in attire not unlike his Whi, mother, but with more furs and leathers. Her stripped silver and grey-black stormy feathers fluttered as if dancing in a breeze that never quelled. Her throat and hands were boldly tattooed, three sharp marks on her upper lip. She halted a little past him, down the slope between him and the brook. With the sun shining down upon them, he noticed how the woman seemed to glow.
Her blue gaze shifted to the clan nearby before fixing on the child again. “What troubles you, Senya?” .
Gaile nearly answered before stopping himself. He did not know this Omwati, had not seen them with his clan nor talking at gatherings with his parents. Yet she called him Senya, my child, and not Sen like everyone else not close to him would. And he couldn’t help ignore the feeling that he did know her, so deeply so.
“What call yourself?” He asked finally with a nod, not answering the question yet and just to curious with who she was.
A blink, followed a light smile. “I am guide and protector to those who ask of me. Present at your naming and watcher of your fate. But Lehta Súrë I am friend should you choose. I am ear for your woes and the answering wind for your plights.”
She knelt beside him and brushed his downy bangs back from his eyes, the touch so light he felt nothing but a breeze. “I am known as Léhtä Whí. Now…my question, enlighten me, youth warrior.”
Gaile took a deep breath, “My Whi feels strange, far. Short talk, looks. All since Ciris was born. I want to help, but told no. She feels sad and…and….–Stupid little fire, like they are her only sen”
“He is.”
The frustration on the young Omwati’s face fell to confusion and bewilderment. Léhtä continued, looking at the horizon with a tilt of her head, feathers bobbing as if hoovering in flight.
“You are not of her blood, but choosen to be theirs together. Just as I choose you, half-blood. Your whi cares, knows and loves you as much as Ciris. That Sen will need your guidance, your wind to direct their flames.” The woman turned and looked down to the young Omwati warring with this insight and shattered truth. “There is much you are destined for, Senya…”
/end
Elly considered Lulaire and her words for a moment before opening the note and taking a gander. The hand written note was much simpler than Elly had expected, but she wasn’t complaining.
“I’ll call her when I get back home,” the Firrerreo said. “She went through the effort of writing this and sending you so might as well, yeah?”
“Weeeeelllll, sorta?” Lula grinned as she scratched her cheek.
“I was meetin’ big boss here, Bril, and she found out I was comin’ here and remembers that we work together so she went ahead and asked if I see ya around and give it to ya.”
“…Are you trying to sabotage her or something?” Elly said with a grin of her own, teasing the other Firrerreo for downplaying her cousin’s bid at a romantic gesture/hookup request.
Lulaire rose an eyebrow.
“OOOOH! What did she sayyyyy- gimme” Lulaire made an attempt to get the note.
Elly took a page out of her mother’s book and stood on up to hold the paper higher than Lulaire could reach. Granted, her mother used the force to raise an object out of the Lawyer’s long reach but the same thing happened. “Nooooooooppee. Can’t let you do that. Mine now.”
Lulaire huffed as she put her hands on her hip. She was a five foot nothing so that didn’t help.
“You are aware I can climb right? But-” She waves her hand. “That’s okay, I’ll be buggin’ her for a few days now.”
Elly kept a grin on her lips as she slid the note into her back pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll have her home at a decent hour.”
Lulaire busted out laughing.
“Hey, if she wanna stay out late, that on her, she still has her own chores to do in the morn’, farmer’s life ya know?”
“That sounds dreadful,” Elly commented. The idea of getting up every morning for physical labor sounded extremely dull. “How do you all manage?”
Lulaire looked at her a bit in shock. But then she remembered her adopted brother, who entered their lives later, didn’t take very well to it.
“Huh. Guess I never thought about that. I guess when it’s your entire life and all you ever knew, it doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, if we get mission and I’m stuck on a ship for more than four hours, you best believe I’ll be goin’ mad from boredom.”
“Oh I definitely get that. I’m the same way, I hate being idle. I need to either be doing something with my brain or body so if I don’t have a book or work with me on long trips I get antsy.”
“Thol?” she trilled softly, calling.
Her son turned at the call, mirrored red eyes looking up at her with a focus she heard Tinder describe as spooky the other tide. Onyx didn’t find it spooky. She maybe found Tinder in need of repeated contact with her namesake. But that anger could be forgotten easily enough looking into her little boy’s eyes, quiet and focused on her.
The only problem was he wasn’t supposed to be right now.
She propelled herself over to him, winding through the seagrass. He’d settled on a sandy patch, gathering pebbles, as far as she could guess. She reached out and brushed a hand over his headtails and the small buds of horns, lips tugging up like always, heart twinging.
You’re missing so much, love…what happened to soon? she thought, and brushed that aside with Tinder’s gossip.
“Are you okay, guppy?”
He nodded into her palm, making a happy noise and turning to press his cheek tighter. Onyx smiled and rubbed her thumb there, then leaned into to press their foreheads together. His thumped hers with the smallest bonk. She wondered if he was doing it like some of the land mammals on other planets, the horned ones. She hadn’t had a chance to ask her astray husband before he’d last left and she tended to forget between the infrequent messages if she needed to give their son something to ram into.
Not that she’d ever seen Das beat his head against anything more literal than whatever crisis he had decided to tackle next.
1/
The wave of NO was immediate, and Onyx cringed, though she kept it off her face, and made sure to project calm and touched his cheek and headtails again. There was more to it than just the no, but Thol seemed to feel so strongly, it was hard for even some of the adults to be around him. Spooky, moody, unusual…what’s wrong with him?
Nothing, Onyx had told her sister, after biting a chunk out of her for it.
Noboreddislikeapathynothingloudconfusingscaredafraid…
“It’s okay, Thol. You don’t have to play with them if you don’t want to. That’s your choice, okay, honey?”
He nodded, little bubbles rippling from his eyes, the warm tears displacing the colder ocean water. She cooed and chattered, drawing him close in a hug. He’d bitten his aunt viciously when she tried to hold him, but that was only because Coal had surprised him and not shown she was coming first. He was fine if he saw you coming.
He was perfect.
“Do you want to show me what you were playing then?”
Her guppy nodded, and his baby horns dug into her chin, but that was fine. They settled down in the sand.
“One,” Thol blubbed softly, a lisp still to his words. He didn’t have good pitch yet, but he’d get there. He loved his bedtime and good morning and teeth brushing songs when she sang them. He never took his eyes off her. She was suspecting something in the rhythms helped, and thought, see, he’s just like the rest of us just fine. He’s just sensitive. Just different and perfect like he is. He showed her his rock. “Start wif one.”
2/
“Okay.” She took the pebble. He picked up another.
“Like fis. Two.”
He handed her the next.
“Okay.”
Another.
“Tfee. An…and keep …goin’, Mame.”
“Are we counting?”
He nodded. She smiled again.
“Okay. I like that game. So next is four. Just like you! My growing guppy. You’re getting so big.”
He smiled back at her, all baby fangs.
“Do you want to go swimming with me?” She asked, after they’d counted for awhile. Thol considered. Then nodded.
“Okay.”
She pulled him by the hand up into the currents, not that he needed much help. He was strong already for his age. Her grandfather would’ve had something chest-puffing to say about that.
But Onyx just kissed her son’s forehead again and enjoyed the reef, swimming this way and that with her little boy. They had each other. If that was all they did have, then it was all they needed.
3/3