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lordmaddie · 4 months ago

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Enderal: Forgotten Stories — Ultimate Prophet Asklist

Thank you to jilljoycearts for working so hard to create this massive asklist! You can find the template here. Answering this for my Prophet OC, the Marksman 😌 Keeping things under a readmore, since it’s long!

[Some things that need to be clarified first! 1) The Marksman isn’t the “intended” Prophet; in his eventuality he caused so much shipping disruption that the Morning Dew would not have made it to Nehrim to pick up the “true” Prophet and Sirius. Hand forced, the Veiled Woman sunk his ship and made him the Prophet instead. 2) He does not have dreams of the Nehrim house/Daddy 3) He didn’t wash up in the same part of Enderal as other Prophets, and so didn’t go through the Abandoned Temple 4) He arrived in Enderal ~2 years before the “true” start of the game (where you meet Jespar in Riverville) 5) There’s a number of quests he's simply not done/even picked up! I have edited/removed some questions to reflect this!]

Basics: 1. Let’s start simple — what’s your Prophet/ess’s name, age, race, etc.? Name: ▮▮▮▮▮▮ [The Marksman] Age: ~25 Race: Kiléan (birth), Half-Kiléan (blood) (doesn’t know he’s only half-Kiléan; other half is something northern, maybe Enderalean) Height: Nice round 6’0” Weight: Heavy. Don’t ask me for specifics ^-^’’

2. Show us what they look like, or describe their appearance in detail. All his art is available on his Toyhouse page. The Marksman is tall and broad at the shoulder. He has black-ish hair, red eyes (unrelated to the Red Madness, I just think it’s cool), and pale skin (though the latter’s due to underexposure to the sun - he’d tan very quickly if he ever went out much in daylight). Years of repetitive use of a longbow has left him with osteophytes (bone spurs) in his shoulders and wrists that impede some of their movement (however their growth was halted when he was made Fleshless). One arm is also larger than the other (but I will never draw this).

Personality: 3. What’s their personality like? During his former occupation (assassin) and unpleasant upbringing (understatement) he got too used to learned helplessness and ignoring his own emotions. Even now as a free man this has left him numb and apathetic; unable to have an emotional response to most situations that call for it. If one occurs, he often finds it confusing or unparseable. Besides that, however, he is confident and fairly easygoing - after all, what could anyone possibly do to him? Complain to the guards? They don’t get paid enough to deal with him.

4. What do they usually wear — for fighting, traveling, being in the city, relaxing at home? Combat- Layer 1: Shirt, trousers, leather arm-sleeves. Layer 2: Leather torso+shoulder armour, leather armguard (right arm only), leather archery gloves, leather trousers, either soft leather shoes (for stealth) or hard leather boots. Layer 3: Cloth hood+collar+mantle, shoulder-belt (bow + quiver are sheathed/clipped to this), leather double-belt (dagger sheath is buckled to this), leather greaves. Travel- The above, his pack, and sometimes with the addition of a cloak. Non-combat (at home/in the city/etc): Shirt, belt, trousers, “walking about town” boots. Usually also his cloth hood+collar+mantle. All of his clothes and armour are dyed or stained black. If asked, he’d say because it’s practical and “hides stains”. In truth it’s because he’s a little vain, thinks he looks good in black, and likes that people find it intimidating. He owns six of the exact same shirt, which he purchased in bulk.

5. What’s in their travel bag? Varies depending on length of expedition, but usually: food+water rations (dried meat, oats or barley, dried fruit, salt), cooking/eating utensils, needle+thread, bandages, shaving mirror, shaving cup+brush, shaving razor, soap, flint+steel, tinderpouch, whetstone, spare bowstrings, string wax, oil (for his bow), small amount of woodstain (black), spare clothes.

6. Any pets or mounts? None - he’s a poor rider, and has no desire to be responsible for the welfare of an animal.

7. Do they have any treasured possessions? None - the Marksman’s failed to make any emotional connection to or gain any particular fondness for any objects - even his bow.

8. Do they drink/smoke/do drugs? He’s always up for a pint! (Or eight…). Prefers ale or other beers, but’ll drink almost anything. Absolutely refuses to smoke anything, finding the thought of smoke in his lungs incredibly off-putting. Has no desire to partake in any other drug.

9. Do they have any markings — scars, tattoos, birthmarks? No tattoos or birthmarks. Purposefully rubs salt into wounds he wants to keep the memory of, so they scar. Two major scars: bite scar on left side of neck/shoulder, cut scar on right leg.

10. How would you describe their combat style? The Marksman uses a heavy-draw longbow (warbow) and bodkin (non-barbed) arrows. This is capable of piercing even heavily armoured targets. Shoots targets from stealth or distance; excellent aim and marksmanship, usually only requires one arrow per target. Middling skill with a dagger, recently learned; agile on his feet but not particularly when striking. Dodges until an opportunity for a lethal blow presents itself, else seeks to disengage. Only engages in melee combat if out of arrows.

11. Have they ever killed before? Ha ha ha How do they handle combat emotionally? He feels absolutely nothing during combat, and nor in victory or retreat. He used to - he enjoyed fighting - but there’s nothing now. Sometimes he thinks that maybe he should have some kind of feeling about this, but…

12. How did they react to discovering their magical powers? Do they actually use them or hesitate to do so? Has a trick to ‘become precenceless’ - not literal invisibility, rather a confusion of the observer’s senses: in reality he is still visible, but the observer(s) brains do not accept the information from the eyes. If an observer witnesses him engage this trick they remain aware of his presence whilst they are still ‘looking’ at him and concentrating - if they look away or lose concentration, then he cannot be located again until he disengages the trick. This was originally a joke at how stealth works at very high levels in Skyrim et al, but I suppose in his ‘lore’ it’s a kind of Psionics he doesn’t realise he’s casting. Eventually he also learns how to Ghostwalk, but only does it very rarely. In the fanfic I wrote with him, he has a number of other powers pertaining to literally being the Main Character… But that’s just flavour for that story, and not truly part of his ‘lore’. Other than that, he has no magical talent or senses.

13. What’s their education level? How intelligent are they? He’s of no significant intelligence and only rudimentary education - though he did receive tutelage in Inal (Kiléan is his mother tongue). He has a knack for speaking languages, but learns best from exposure and immersion. He can’t read Inal for shit, though.

14. What are they proud of in themselves? What are they embarrassed about? The Marksman is proud of his strength, prowess with his bow… And though he’d never admit it to himself or others, his skill at killing. He’s good at it. He’s rather embarrassed about his awful skills at lying, though… It’s so easy to put fear in people, and yet the second he attempts to utter any untruth it seems everyone possesses a curious telepathy that clocks it immediately!

15. What, if any, aspects of their mother's culture influenced them growing up? He was not raised in traditional Kiléan culture, rather in an insular and cruel cult of assassins. The children of the cult were purposefully raised without cultural influence to keep them isolated.

16. How honest are they? Under what circumstances would they lie Well, since he can’t lie and the consequences of regular people are ineffectual to him, he generally always tells the truth. He’d attempt to lie if circumstances dictate it, or to attempt to spare the feelings of someone he cares about.

17. What’s their worst memory? How about their best? Worst: The various means employed by his family to turn the children of the cult into killers. He does not talk about it. He does not allow himself to think about it. Best: The dust of the Pit. The baying of the crowd. His bow in his hand. A black-armoured Rhalâim across from him, twin swords drawn. The first time he felt something real and true in years. Let’s see you dance, Marksman!

18. Fight, or flight? Fight, almost always. He doesn’t start them, but by god does he end them! That said, he’s not above a retreat. Honour is no use to a dead man.

19. What motivates them? What do they seek? Absolution. The guilt of his past weighs heavy and choking. The only thing that keeps him from putting himself out of his own misery is the fact that one meagre death - his own - would not right the scales against the sin he’s committed. He allowed himself continued life only so he could, even in part, make up for what he’s done.

20. How do they feel about death? Do they fear it? No. It’s what he deserves, after all. He only asks for a good death - either in pursuit of atonement, or at the hands of someone he trusts to judge him.

21. What (else) are they afraid of? The sea - He never learned to swim, and nearly (actually) drowning will certainly put a fear in a man. He’s likely never getting on a boat again. The Father and Brother Sorrow - At least, when he didn’t have backup. The Petrified - He’s very aware that he’s only ever been a cheap knockoff. Myrads - Yeah he’s never flying on one of those fucking things.

22. How do they act around people they like? People they dislike? And how do they behave when they’re alone? It might be difficult to tell the difference at first… But for someone he likes, he’s loyal; willing to help them, spare a thought for them, to back them up even unasked. An enemy of his friend is, well… A very dangerous position to be in. For someone he dislikes, he’s not willing to listen to them, or even be in their presence. If unable to leave, he makes his displeasure clear by being as difficult and/or as threatening as he can get away with being.

23. What do they do to lower their considerable stress? Describe their perfect day off. The Marksman’s got an awful habit of trying to ignore problems he can’t resolve. Stomp down on that stress, shoulder those burdens, plumb the ever-decreasing mines of ‘It Is What It Is’! A perfect day off, though: A nice breakfast (salted porridge, bacon, tea, an orange), going to see the minstrels capering or listening to the bards, getting some house-chores done, the evening spent with a loved one (😏).

24. List three of their favorite things and three things they hate. Favourite: Ale - bitter, for preference. What can I say, he’s a bit of a fiend. Oranges - the sweetness, the intense taste! Plus it keeps scurvy away. Eggs - eggs are truly the perfect foodstuff. Filling, nutritious, and so easy to cook! Hated: Bright sunlight - Hurts his fucking eyes, limits opportunities for stealth, usually means he’s awake long past he wants to be (naturally inclined to be nocturnal). Snow/slush - The cold night or even the chill of winter is fine, pleasant even, but snow? It sticks and melts and makes your clothes miserably wet. Impractical opulence - Sometimes opulence is practical, such as when some authority wants to show off how powerful it is by having a fancy building, or a merchant wants to advertise their business acumen by displaying their wealth. But most times? Why do you need to much stuff, especially when it doesn’t do anything? Oh, your family is rich? Literally who asked?

25. What makes them angry? And how do they act when they’re mad? Anger no longer comes easily to him - but when it does it takes him by surprise, making him lash out unthinkingly. Nailaq and Aixon made him angry, the former by saying that he reminded him of Qalian, and the latter by being super annoying.

26. What do they regret? All the murders he did as a former assassin, and the pride + professional satisfaction they took in it. Also: not pushing Arantheal off the Sun Temple when he had the opportunity.

27. In moments of despair, who or what do they turn to for guidance? Oh, he bottles that shit up big time. Even if he’s literally in the trenches of misery, won’t talk about it (unless someone he loves asks…).

28. Let’s talk about their nightmares. Have they always had them? Yes - most nights, he dreams something about his past in Kilé. It’s a product of his guilty mind, and he’s long resigned himself to it. The nightmares get worse/more frequent the more stressed he is.

29. How would they describe themselves, in their own words? Would most likely misunderstand the context of the question and answer in literal terms: “Kiléan. 25. I have a bow. You have eyes, why are you asking?”

30. Is your Prophet/ess inspired by any other characters? I fear greatly that my subconscious has produced them from some source that would embarrass me if intuited. The Marksman didn’t exist as a character until I’d finished the Rhalata questline in my recent Enderal playthrough - I accepted the consequences of my choice with Qalain, but I did have a niggling thought that I could come up with an argument that would’ve saved Tharael even with Qalain unspared. The Marksman was designed to be a mirror to Tharael - someone who’d done equally bad things, but importantly still thought himself capable of atonement for them.

31. Share a song (or a few) that remind you of them. LISTEN TO MY MARKSMAN PLAYLIST: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZc5-Jlvqmo2zV4f3eHYgmdghoGWa-S6-&si=iL1aLHjcf0PtkK4s Carrion (Corpse) at the end… Because that’s how he leaves you >:)

32. On the topic of music — can they sing? What does their voice sound like? Can they play any instruments? The Marksman sings like a strangled cat, and only after he’s had a drink far too many. No musical talent whatsoever, and would struggle with the finesse required for a lot of instruments due to the loss of dexterity in his fingers.

The before: 33. What was their life like before coming to Enderal? Pretty shit! Of course there was the various unpleasant means that were employed by his cult to train the children into assassins. After, they’d be sent out on contracts: supervised at first, then on their own. They were started out with easy kills - people you’d want to kill, murderers and rapists, and you’d be told all about their crimes. The contracts would slowly, subtly transition into more and more ‘normal’ people, and increasingly vile murders.

39. What led them to the decision to leave Nehrim Kilé? He didn’t want to be with his family anymore. Fleeing Kilé was a necessity; if he’d stayed on the islands he’d surely be tracked down. The Marksman chose to escape to Enderal as he knew some Inal.

40. What subtle cultural differences did they notice when they arrived on Enderal? What did they struggle with the most — unfamiliar food, strange traditions, or something else? The concept of the Paths was extremely confusing and nonsensical. He never bothered to wrap his head around it, since being foreign means he’s Pathless anyway.

Main quest: [Note: Tharael joins the Marksman for the entirety of his main quest journey]41. How did their journey begin? What were their feelings about being thrown into a major investigation right from the start? After completing the Rhalata questline and adventuring with Tharael for a number of months, the two decided to start taking on bounties. This sent them to Riverville, where Jespar found them at the bounty board and offered to buy them a drink - which is what convinced the Marksman to hear him out (even though it was like 9/10 in the morning…! They had small beer and breakfast, though, nothing major). Since Jespar’d paid, and they were there to make use of themselves anyway, they agreed to help him.

43. How did they react to meeting Tealor Arantheal and learning about the Cycle? Arantheal dangled the promise of absolution before the Marksman like keys jangled in front of a baby - claiming that all sins would be forgiven if the Cleansing was averted. The Marksman fell for it hook, line, and sinker - helping Tharael kill the Father was supposed to be adequate atonement, and in the wake of that failure he was desperate for another purpose.

44. The visions of the Echo of the Past and the true nature of the Prophet — how did they respond to those revelations? Honestly, the Marksman kind of didn’t listen to a lot of the stuff he was told - filing it away in his mind as “wizard nonsense I don’t understand”. He does not like experiencing the Echo - it makes all his muscles lock up, he sees a flash of bright light, the vision/voices are far too loud, and he gets a headache. Experiencing too many Echoes consecutively starts giving him heart issues.

45. What were their thoughts on joining the Order? Did they feel honored, wary, trapped? It was done on sufferance, only because Arantheal insisted it was needed, and he did not mean a single of the vows he uttered.

46. How long did they spend in Aixon’s realm, and what was that experience like for them? All of five minutes, probably - Aixon pissed him right off from the get-go. He couldn’t stand his whining, insults, and tiresome comments on the philosophy of reality (who spends time thinking about this shit? If reality is real? Who CARES if you can’t DO anything about it??). He lashed out, ending the dream.

47. How did their first encounter with the High Ones go? What was their reaction to facing such beings? Like Aixon, he didn’t listen. He was in no mood to pay attention to weird ghosts telling him how shit he was.

48. How hopeful were they after discovering the old Pyrean Beacon prototype in Old Dothulgrad? Cautiously hopeful… And yet it felt like looking at an hourglass and noticing how little sand was left in the top bulb. He never expressed this feeling to anyone.

49. What are their thoughts on the Aged Man? The Aged man had a lot to say to the Marksman, mostly about how he’d “fucked everything up” and “made too many changes” (he knew, of course, that one such as the Marksman was never supposed to be an Emmisary, knew the Marksman’d never successfully stop the Cleansing, and was resigning himself to yet another Cycle)... The Marksman’s thoughts on the matter are basically summed up as “Creepy house. Weird mannequins. Was quite rude.”

50. How did they process the news of an impending war with Nehrim — Taranor Coarek’s warships nearing Enderal’s shores? By not processing it at all. He had enough on his plate with the Cleansing! Besides, it’s not as if he has a particular love or loyalty for either Enderal or Nehrim.

51. Coming across their own dead body in the Living Temple must’ve been horrifying — how exactly did they react? He was going through an awful lot at the time (the cleansing, the suspicion that his own time was rapidly running out, having just killed his only true brother, having Firespark die so wretchedly…) so in all honesty he had a total breakdown. Afterwards, when his awful emotions had finally spent themselves, he shouldered his burdens again and tried to Get On With It. He felt a bit guilty about his outburst… Tharael was there to witness it - another lost soul inhabiting a false vessel. Thankfully, Tharael forgave him very easily. Later, once he’d gotten over the shock… Did it really matter, that his body was something fake, made by another? It was his now, belonging to him… And he’d carry on doing whatever he wanted with it.

52. What did they think of Coarek and his companions? How did they feel about the failed negotiations with Arantheal, and the mission's ultimate failure? He found the whole ordeal an utter pisstake and waste of time. Of course two men with egos that size would never agree on anything. He felt resentful that Arantheal managed to convince him on the fool’s errand.

53. Finding Lishari murdered was a major shock most likely — what was going through their head at that moment? Not a lot… “Damn, what a shame. Anyway.” It occurred to him only later that he probably should’ve had more of an opinion on the events.

54. How did they go about retrieving the three Black Stones? In what order, and why? What emotions came with each journey? They went for the Dal’Galar stone first, as they thought it was in the Undercity. Calia headed them off and set them on the right path. The discoveries in the castle were… Unpleasant, to say the least. As was being forced to listen impotently as the Kiléan mercenaries attempted to have their way with Calia… Then Calia shredding them to paste. The Marksman was greatly concerned for her well-being… But lacked any comfort to give, even though he tried his best. Second stone was Dal'Geyss’. It was easy enough to break in, easy enough to blackmail the man (not easy to be in the presence of a Petrified, though…). But Silvergrove… It hurt. It hurt to know the place was so twisted and wrong, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It hurt to have the child look at him so lovingly, the hope in his voice when he called the Marksman a brother. It hurt to be begged to give mercy, at the end. Not help. Not comfort. Everyone sees him for what he is: a killer. And death is all he has to give. Last stone was Dal’Varek’s. Jespar had received the courier’s package and found his sister’s notes… Fearing the worst, he asked for the Marksman and Tharael to accompany him as backup. Events transpired tragically. Looking upon Jespar’s corpse… He felt it, truly felt the grief of a friend lost. A slippery feeling that defied all attempts to wrangle it, yet thrashed and bit and clawed inside him. Then, of course, the Veiled Woman and Jespar’s resurrection. Again, the Marksman utterly failed to provide any comfort.

55. With Ark under siege and the Nehrimese in the harbor, everything falling apart — how do they take it all in? It made the world finally make sense again, for a brief time. Here were enemies to kill. He had his bow. He knew this dance.

56. What’s their impression of Kurmai and his starship, Gertrude? How did they feel about flying to Star City in search of answers? The starship felt much safer than a Myrad - he’d never seen Starling machinery go wrong, but beasts can be temperamental… He got to enjoy looking at the clouds and the world below. Although… When people said it was a STARship, he expected to go above the stars, and sail through them like a sea. Should’ve called it a cloudship, in his opinion.

57. Do they believe the Beacon can be lit safely using the consciousness of a High One? After all the betrayals, do they still trust Tealor? What’s keeping them going at this point? Well, yes. It was really rather too late in the game to start having doubts… The only thing keeping him going was the desire to finally be absolved… Even though he knew it’d take everything from him.

58. What was their experience like in the City of a Thousand Floods? Harrowing. The fighting was desperate and the Echoes felt like they were going to kill him.

59. When Yuslan makes his move and Tealor abandons them to trigger mass extinction — what goes through their mind? He hardly had time to react to Yuslan’s betrayal. He was unconscious for Tealor’s.

60. How do they react to the Black Guardian’s revelations? Didn’t listen to him either, lmao (and so was spared the 40 minutes of dialogue -_-). Pretty much just hung back, didn’t approach… And certainly didn’t press that button.

61. What’s their final choice — self-sacrifice to save the world, escaping with someone they’re close to to become the last people on Vyn, or… did they take the time to brew a certain special potion? What drove their decision? The Marksman was ready to sacrifice himself to stop the Cleansing - he truly thought he could manipulate things and still do it… But he knew it’d be his end. Tharael convinced him otherwise - the world didn’t deserve to be saved, and the Cleansing was a mercy upon it! They escaped to the Star City, vowing to prepare the way for the Final Prophet, and the true end of the Cleansing. However, if you’ll indulge me… I’ve been musing over a kind of AU, Everything Turns Out Ok in the End (working title). Together, to their end AND the Cleansing’s, Tharael and the Marksman sacrifice themselves into a rudimentary Numinos… The Prophet, a tool of the High Ones and the Cleansing - and a human soul, the source of High Ones… It works, just about. A blow is struck; not lethal, but enough to let this Cycle continue for a time unmanipulated as the High Ones nurse the wound. It takes everything from them. But… There stands the Veiled Woman. An easy task, for her, to subtly alter the terms of their sacrifice: The Prophet, yes… But just that part, not the whole man. And a false human vessel, so similar to how a High One is a false amalgam of human soul. Just similar enough to be adequate… And to allow the men’s souls to be unconsumed. She fashions them new bodies: Same as the old, but utterly mortal. Usual. No more prophetic powers, no more ‘Main Character’ abilities, no more relentless drive of the Fleshless nature. One last round in the arena of a world, yes? A hero’s reward… After all, they did such a service, did they not? And the Veiled Woman gets to take a holiday. She goes to the seaside - all of them, everywhere. With the defeat of the High Ones and the aversion of the Cleansing, everyone comes to their senses… It seems so obvious, in its absence, that events were being maliciously influenced by an outside force. So… Everyone downs arms. Sorts it out. Carves out what peace can be gained. Enderal becomes a vassal state of Nehrim, religion outlawed. But… What people really want is for tomorrow to be like today. Despite everything, everyone wants normalcy back. Those who worked under Arantheal are allowed to live if they swear service to the Free Order (working name; the Nehrimese government in Enderal). They’re allowed to work on seeding clues for the Final Prophet who will avert the Last Cleansing when the High Ones return (which, views on religion aside, everyone can agree is necessary… Plus it keeps Arantheal’s people out the way). They seed the message thusly, all over Vyn: I: IT ALL STARTS WITH THE DREAMS. REMEMBER. II: THE BEACON WILL DESTROY THE ENEMY. III: THE BEACON NEEDS A TARGET; USE THE ESSENCE OF THE ENEMY. IV: THE RULER WILL ABANDON THE PROPHET V: DO NOT ALLOW THE RULER TO BRING THE LIGHT They hope that it’ll be enough. And yet, for Tharael and the Marksman… It doesn’t need them. Oh, Calia and Jespar are useful, and the mages, but… No-one needs a pair of killers, or a former Prophet. Tharael joins the Free Order; the world still needs people like him… Especially to temper the idealists. The Marksman joins the Rhalata.

Characters: 62. What was their first impression of Jespar? First time they met, Jespar offered to buy him a drink so they could discuss Magister Yero… And the Marksman’d never turn that offer down. Initially didn’t have much of an opinion on the man, but found him amusing.

64. Does your Prophet/ess share Jespar’s views on life? Mostly. Living in the moment, for your own happiness… As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else (and, of course, as long your personal scales are fairly balanced…), why is that any worse a life than anything else?

65. What about his views on relationships — are those something they agree with or challenge? He’d agree, even if he does think that Jespar has an odd way of putting it. If you’re not going to be loyal to your partner, if there’s no love, why continue the appearances of a non-existent relationship?

66. How does your Prophet/ess feel about Jespar’s family history? And what are their thoughts on Adila in particular? Remembers to think sympathetically about it, because Jespar makes it clear that it’s something that affected him, but otherwise doesn’t have particularly strong opinions… Everyone has had something awful happen to them. As for Adila… Well, she’s dead now (and Jespar isn’t), so that’s the end of that.

67. Would your Prophet/ess consider escaping with Jespar before the Nehrimese invasion of Enderal? What about after everything is over? No. The end of the Cleansing will be his atonement. Nothing would’ve swayed him from that course. And afterwards…? He’s not getting on a fucking boat ever again, so that rules out leaving Enderal 😅.

68. What does the Prophet/ess like about Jespar? What do they dislike? He loves Jespar’s stories of his adventures and experiences, and always listens raptly. He finds his jokes funny, even if he doesn't get some of them (Jespar is FLIRTING WITH HIM and the Marksman is oblivious). Plus, the man's always down for a drink!

Seeing Jespar's sorry state in the Silver Cloud was difficult - he honestly thought better of him.

69. What was their first impression of Calia? Appreciated how she was at least polite, unlike the other novice.

70. How did learning about Calia’s childhood and the disturbing story from her past affect your Prophet/ess? He wishes he could be the kind of friend she needs.

71. What was it like meeting her “second soul” in Old Dothulgrad? How did they handle it? Gave her a little round of applause - didn't realise this wasn't something she was doing on purpose.

Forgave her the needless brutality of the kill - sometimes you just want to make sure the dead stay dead, you know?

72. How exactly did your Prophet/ess manage to grow closer with Calia? What are their common views and opinions? They both agree on attempting to make the world a better place (though of course for the Marksman, it's to atone for his misdeeds).

Calia thinks she sees some good in him… She might be right.

73. Was discovering the full truth about Calia’s past a shock? How did your Prophet/ess choose to support her? He can only settle for being a cautionary example for what happens if you fail to resist your own evils.

74. Does your Prophet/ess believe that embracing Calia’s demonic half is the right path forward? Or do they see it as a weapon to use — or something that needs to be purged permanently? It would be nice - fairytale, even - if it could be purged… But that's not how the word works.

Everyone has the capability of evil within them… Calia is no different, even if her’s is a separate entity placed there against her will.

He thinks her demonic half should always be resisted.

75. What does the Prophet/ess like about Calia? What do they dislike? The Marksman greatly admires Calia’s fortitude, bravery, and willpower for resisting her demon. He also recognises that she's genuinely a good person, and that she's managed to hold onto that despite everything she's been through.

He's found little to dislike her for.

76. If your Prophet/ess ends up in a romantic relationship, what is it like? How do they express love, and what’s their dynamic as a couple? The Marksman is loyal, unflinchingly, though often finds little opportunity to express it. He tries to show his care through little things - boiling enough water for two, remembering to pick up something needed from the Marketplace, taking on his partner’s chores or tasks to make things easier… He has no experience with romance, and his observation of other people's relationships seems to glean no useful pointers for his own with Tharael. If asked about love, he would describe it as someone who’ll bring you back from the cliff’s edge, if you can't come back yourself. Someone who'll take the blade you hold to your throat… Or tell you if you should cut. A loved one is someone who can judge you.

Lastly… He's a bit of a dog, ngl. Greedy with his desires, if the leash is allowed to slip.

Factions: Rhalata: 77. Has your Prophet/ess fought in the Dust Pit of the Undercity? What made them do that? Yes - it made him nostalgic for home, as his siblings-in-training would fight one another to keep their combat skills sharp. Earning a bit of gold was an afterthought.

78. What are their thoughts on Tharael’s ideas? And what do they think of him as a person? The Marksman desired him from the get-go, though never made a move at the time (and Tharael was far too concerned with his revenge to even notice). As the questline progressed, he saw a lot of himself in him and had great sympathy for the horrors he’d been forced to endure. He fully agrees with Tharael’s view of the world, though his views on relationships and the like… He did agree. Until he heard Tharael say it, at which point he had a major “is that what I sound like??” moment. He realised it was a sad and empty existence.

79. Do they believe Nailaq deserves to live? Absolutely not! Would’ve killed him himself, had Tharael not deserved the kill.

80. When it comes to Sister Pride — did your Prophet/ess choose to kill or spare her? Why? The Marksman would not compromise the mission. Even if she hadn’t begged for death, he would’ve killed her.

81. Tharael or the Father — who did they side with, and what was the reason behind their choice? Tharael, all the way, from the very beginning - their situations were so similar, after all. The Father’s arguments (“The children were sick and would’ve died anyway.” “I am a scientist.”) utterly failed to convince him… And he suspected the Father was lying about a lot of it to make himself look good, anyway.

82. What do they think about the Father's goals? And what about the methods he uses to pursue them? Utterly reviles them, and agrees with Tharael that the Father is evil incarnate. It was nothing but sensless torture and slaughter of children for personal gain!

83. If they chose Tharael, how did the ending of the questline go? Before fighting the Father, they vowed to each other: His end, or ours. The Marksman took that quite literally… He would not allow Tharael to go off that cliff alone. Thankfully, he convinced him to have a second chance at life.

84. If things went well — how is their life now with the new housemate? In the Refuge, the Marksman presumed Tharael utterly uninterested in anything besides perhaps friendship, so he politely locked away his feelings to mourn later. After the Rhalata questline, he dedicated himself to looking after Tharael - keeping them both busy to distract from… Everything that’d happened. Eventually they return to Ark and Tharael settles in the spare room. However, despite his promises of a path to atonement for them both, the Marksman has no idea how to actually move towards that goal… And a life of quiet domesticity was not for the likes of them. Eventually it was Tharael who suggested taking on bounties. Some time after the end of the Rhalata questline - maybe half a year or so? - The Marksman decides it’s time to open that lock in his mind, so he can move on from his unrequited feelings. This does not go as planned… His feelings are insistent, distracting, and he cannot dismiss them as he intended. Worse, he doesn’t know what to do with them and doesn’t know how to shoot his shot… He borrows a book on romance from the Ark library, but it’s all flowers and poetry and other useless advice. Tharael clocks him acting more and more strangely, quickly works out the reason, and gets increasingly fed up with it until he takes matters into his own hands.

Golden Sickle: 85. How did joining the Golden Sickle go for your Prophet/ess? He turned up, agreed to beat up the beggar for Rogash, was cursed out for it, and told to join the Rhalata. So he went to the Undercity to (attempt to) do just that. The Golden Sickle has since been ignored.

World, game and lore: 93. How is their story paced? How long does it take your Prophet/ess to complete the main quest? It goes by incredibly fast, I think - a matter of months, less than a year. Not enough time to question what’s going on.

94. Do they change over the course of the story? In what ways? Most of the Marksman’s personal growth occurs during and after the Rhalata questline. For the main quest… He is fully self-deluding himself and tunnel-visioned on the goal of stopping the Cleansing, so there’s little room for reflection.

95. How do they view the concept of fate versus free will in their journey? Do they believe they’re destined for something, or do they shape their own path? He believes he’s shaping his own path and doing what he wants…

96. What do they think of Enderal in general? Thinks it’s alright, strange religion opinions aside. He doesn’t want to go back to Kilé and doesn’t feel any desire to explore other countries, so…

97. What is their opinion of the gods (or lack thereof)? And what about Tealor Arantheal in particular? The Marksman was never a religious man… The gods never helped him, so he doesn’t dedicate any headspace to them. He finds Tealor pretty unlikeable - the man is far too used to giving orders and having them obeyed unquestioningly, which the Marksman finds grating.

99. If given the chance, would your Prophet/ess ever side with Coarek? Tell us more about their political views. No - thinks him exactly like and as bad as Arantheal. He considers politics (and laws) something that happen to other people. A fine enough system for society in general, to keep order (very important)... But personally, he only obeys laws he agrees with.

101. If they had one question to ask the Living Temple, what would it be? “Can you put Firespark back to normal, please.”

102. Is there good in the Black Libra’s activity? Can the Night of the Blind Daughters be justified by everything else they presumably did to punish sinners protected by their status? He was cautiously agreeable with their goals until Tharael revealed it was all based on the dreams/visions of some magic child. Plus he sees no value in the Night of the Blind Daughters - especially in the unnecessary and abhorrent way the killings were done.

103. How did it feel to witness Lishari’s final hours from within her mind? Do they find the Word of the Dead useful as a tool? Or do they feel like some lines should not be crossed? Bad - I headcanon that the Word of the Dead forces you to experience and feel the deceased’s entire death - and when it releases you, there’s a horrible moment where your own body thinks that it’s dead, too. He didn’t have a chance to develop any particular attachment to Lishari, though, so the fact that it was her death wasn’t significant to him. He wouldn’t consider it a line to be crossed - if he bothered to think on it, he’d consider the Word of the Dead as a tool that produces some kind of vision like the Echo, not some intrusion into another.

105. Speaking of, do they carry a shard of the Sigil Stone to protect themselves from the Red Madness? Why or why not? Yes, he believes what he’s told about it protecting him.

106. What do they think of Magister Yero — his ideas, his life story, and the conclusions he came to? He can’t read Inal very well at all, so he read none of the letters or diaries - they were given straight to Jespar.

107. Were they familiar with the concept of other eventualities? If they had full access to the Plainswalker, how would they use it? Any and all “wizard nonsense” is ignored… He doesn’t bother to even try to learn about magic. He wouldn’t use the Plainswalker… There’s nowhere he wants to go. He did not help Yuslan with this quest.

109. Any particular place they want to visit on Vyn? And on Enderal? Why? Nowhere else on Vyn, but in Enderal he’d like to spend more time exploring the Suncoast and Farmer’s Coast - the climate agrees with him, and he’s less likely to encounter annoying enemies such as Crystal Elementals.

110. How do they spend their time when staying in Ark? He doesn’t like spending much time idling about in Ark. When in the city, he deals with purchasing supplies, keeping his house, weight-lifting or sparring with Tharael, going drinking with Tharael, Jespar, and/or Calia (the latter when she’s not busy with her Keeper duties). If he wants to practice archery he goes off to the woods to shoot at deer or birds - he’s banned from the butts in the soldier’s barracks. He can’t butcher his kills, so he trades the carcasses with hunters for already butchered meat.

111. Do they enjoy the Ark theatre? Do they have a favorite play — or do they prefer bard songs? Or maybe they’re more drawn to the art gallery or museum? Tell us about their cultural and artistic tastes. The Marksman is a HUGE fan of jesters, minstrels, joculators, clowns, and magicians (the kind that use sleight-of-hand… actual magic is boring). He’s never before heard any of the jokes and always laughs. Loves to hear bardsong, too, since he hadn’t heard any of the songs before coming to Enderal. His favourites are “Wayward Wanderer”, “Wildmages”... And, of course, “Night of the Raven”, from the black-eyed bard in the Undercity.

112. Where do they stay while in Ark? How do they feel about owning a home? How did they manage to earn enough money for it — if they did? He stole as much money as he could carry from his family before he fled the cult that raised him… Though, in truth, as the cult’s best assassin, he’d earned most of the money himself in the first place. It miraculously washed up alongside him when he arrived in Enderal. Of course, it’s a terrible folly to be wandering about with a literal fortune. He purchased a house to have the gold tied up in property (where it can’t be stolen). Having a house is convenient. He has privacy when he wants it, and a place to store his things.

113. Do they enjoy city life, or do they prefer the countryside? Is there a specific region of Enderal they particularly like — or avoid? It’s nice to have many amenities so close, though sometimes it’s a bit too much to be surrounded by so many people… Especially when they keep making comments in passing.

114. What are their feelings and opinions about the Undercity? Honestly, the Marksman really likes the Undercity, and probably live there instead if it wasn’t for Tharael. The darkness suits him, he’s more familiar with the etiquette of such places rather than the nicer Ark, and people know not to ask inconvenient questions such as “why are you buying so many arrows” or “where did you get this from”.

115. If offered to join the Rhalata, would they consider it? If so, what would their new name be? He understands and even agrees with the need for the Rhalata - as loath as he is to admit it, the Father was right about one thing: without them, the resultant gangs and militias would only cause chaos and suffering. Even the Dust trade… People will always cook up foul shit to sell. At least the Rhalata has an incentive not to kill their users (too quickly), because they want the money and the shadow tax. He has no truck with the weird religion/cultish elements, however. In his eventuality, following the Father’s Transcendence and the death of the High Seer and most of the remaining Seers (by the Marksman’s hand, to stop them tracking down Tharael), the Rhalata goes through an upheaval and schism, resulting in the new Rhalata discarding their old religion. There’s no opportunity to interact with them further as he’s busy with the Cleansing, of course… But in Everything Turns Out Ok in the End AU (working title), feeling useless and directionless, he joins the Rhalata properly to help keep the Undercity in order. He trusts the new High Seer (who they call the High Speaker… Because he doesn’t). Mostly he’s their assassin… (Negative character growth, baybyyyy! You can never escape what you are!!!!!!!!)

116. How do they feel about the idea of leaving the human shell behind? Would they prefer Apotheosis or Transcendence? (The Marksman never did the Apotheosis questline) He’s a big fan of fleshly pleasures, so giving that up to… What? Be some kind of dreaming ghost? Seems utterly shit. Part of him hopes the Father and the others simply died horribly.

117. Speaking of, what does their moral compass tell them about Psionics, Sinistra magic arts in general and Phasmalism? Do they find it ethical enough to justify its use? Very much not a fan of these magics, especially when they’re aimed his way. The Father in particular has given him a very disparaging view of Psionics. He’s not encountered any Phasmalism.

119. What are their thoughts on the cult of the Veiled Woman? What do they think of her persona and what she does to people? (The Marksman did not do Esme’s questline. This is his opinion on the Veiled Woman herself) He tries not to think about her, to be honest. She’s obviously extremely powerful and not an entity he can affect at all… But she seemed to be an ally? Or, at least, he seemed to not be her enemy…

121. Do they take on bounty quests? If so, any particular ones that they remembered? Why? Yes - He views those with a bounty on their heads as wasting their chance to atone for whatever evil shit got them a bounty in the first place. If the guards could catch them, they’d be on the gallows already… So they could flee, change their names, repent. But they don’t. So he takes the opportunity to better his life by ending theirs. None stick in his memory as particularly notable - he’s not completed that many.

122. Have they heard of lycanthropes? Or could they be one themselves? How did that happen, or how did they discover it? The Marksman had heard of lycanthropes in passing, so was aware of their existence before he fought the one in the Dust Pit. He wouldn’t become one himself, but if he did… He’d be a terror. As a man, he seeks to atone for his past. As a beast? Aren’t you angry? The beast asks. Aren’t you tired of paying back a world that made you this way? It made you to kill, so kill! Kill! Wash away the glitter! Paint the world in it’s true colour: red! Red! (He’d have the Ravager affinity)

124. How do they feel about myrads, leors, or other creatures they aren’t used to? What about monsters or the undead? Are there any that they fear? He fears no creature, but he’s also not stupid enough to take on something like a Boneripper without a lot of range. Many enemy creatures annoy him greatly: mainly Crystal Elementals (because they break his arrows) and Fire Elementals (because they explode). He has no significant opinion on Leoran… But thinks Myrads are the height of stupidity. At least if you fall off a horse, you only might die…

125. Was there anyone — other than companions or major characters — that they were particularly close to or disliked? He’s friends with Uajaan, since they’re fellow Kiléans. Uajaan’s teaching him scamming tricks, and they’ve got a bit of a Game Penny back-and-forth.

Choices and reasons: 128. Do they spare or arrest Hallys, the farmer-turned-bandit in the quest Deus Ex Machina? Why? This decision was left to Calia, since she was the only one who would make a lawful decision. The Marksman would’ve killed him and been done with it.

Lastly… Thank you so much for reading this much about my silly man! As a reward, I’d like to talk about the Marksman’s name. He does have one - all the characters know it, and refer to him as it. The only time anyone calls him “Marksman” is in the Dust Pit, or if the Free Peoples of Nehrim refer to him at all (since he does not give them his real name), or maybe Tharael continues to use it as a nickname. But you? He’s not your friend, someone you know, someone you see in the Marketplace. He’s a character, a non-real thing… The Marksman :) I’ve seeded a number of clues about his real name for people to work out. As a little bonus for anyone who made it this far, I’ll collate most of the clues here: - His name is 6 characters in length - In some of his art, I’ve scribbled out his name… But not quite. See here and here. - In my fic Absolution, when he reveals his blood-brother’s name is “Jackdaw”, Tharael comments that it is similar to [The Marksman’s] own. - He also states that the cult “named them all like that, after birds and beasts”. - In my fic To Right the Scales, the Marksman reveals that his other siblings were named Wolven, Ox, Goshawk, and Rat. There’s a few more clues in the fics, but I can’t point them out without basically stating the answer ^-^’’

#enderal #vynblr #enderal: forgotten stories #enderal prophet ask #enderal prophet #prophet OC #Prophet OC: The Marksman #It was so fun filling this out! Felt a little guilty for removing so many questions though ^-^'' ...#I'm so excited to read this for other people's prophets!!#Tumblr threw a right wobbly when I was pasting this in from Google Docs so be careful with that #seems you can only have 4k words per “block”#so don't use too many shift-enters!

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starryjkoo · 3 months ago

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JM: *gets death threats from solos and tkkers*

ARMY: anyways, have y'all read this tkk au?!

But let's here from the "OT7 jkkers" about how "fic writers are necessary 🥺", "not all tkkers are bad", "my best friend is a tkker (and most likely harasses jimin or calls jkk fanservice on her other/private account)" and "if you don't ship tkk or engage with tkk shipping content you hate tae and jk 😡" once again 🎤

sorry for the upcoming coke rant but yeah today was very annoying and I'm sick of it (I’m sure we all are)

anon do you know what’s really funny about that particular discourse right now? Look, I really don’t like singling people out on my account. I also can’t believe I need to clarify this, but I’m very much against harassing and bullying people. If you don’t like someone, block them and move on. It’s never acceptable to harass anyone over any of this fandom stuff.

With that out of the way, I just went back to look at that authors account and it took me literally .5 seconds to find content from a JM/JKK anti on their page now that they’re actively engaging with the tkk creative community lol (tkk art from someone who follows antis & who was just dragging that Jikook Golden Party fanart). I know they are absolutely NOT an anti, but it’s simply impossible to engage with any part of the tkk community without interacting with or helping to platform antis (also nothing on their page about the hate or threats Jimin received a few days ago).

But… according to a big chunk of Jikookers — this person is a pillar of the Jikook community! This person is so important and has done so much for the community because they… have written some popular Jikook fanfiction? Yeahhhhh, respectfully, if you think that way then maybe you need to reorganize your priorities and perhaps question the sort of things we should be valuing as a community. I think it’s fine if you personally value fanwork. In my opinion, if you engage with it you do owe the author something (kudos, comments, respect) but the only thing that should be relevant to the community at large is how someone treats the actual Jimin and Jungkook, not the fanfic versions of them. At least in my opinion anyways.

I’m mainly bringing this up because it’s an example of the overall issue ARMYs have with shipping.

it’s extremely problematic how a large portion of this fandom blatantly prioritizes shipping and ship content over the actual BTS members. You have a whole group of people today who are more outraged and vocal about being told RPF is weird than they are about Jimin receiving literal death threats. That’s beyond messed up.

This fandom has shown time and time again that they absolutely do not have the maturity to handle shipping BTS members responsibly (including just for fun shippers). It shouldn’t be so easy for me to find content from Jimin antis when scrolling the account of an OT7 non-serious tkk shipper, but that’s the reality of the tkk community. That should be unacceptable. Instead you have ARMYs aggressively defending that community simply because they enjoy their content.

I don’t want to get into my whole spiel about non-serious “just for fun” shippers, but a lot of them are just as complicit in creating the current toxic shipping environment as serious ones — yet they feel none of the responsibility. They think they get a pass because they “don’t believe ships are real” when they absolutely contribute to the current state of things. Non-serious shippers make up the following of a lot of those toxic accounts, they continuously engage and help platform toxic shippers, consume and share their content, bring their posts and narratives and edits into OT7 spaces, actively defend their favorite content creators even if they’re toxic. Some of them even believe and help spread toxic shipping narratives (such as recently the “ARMYs” who claimed that BH gave TH a shady edit on AYS). This is an issue with non-serious tkkrs in particular but I’ll be fair and say all shippers can be guilty of this.

Then you have the argument that “it’s just fiction!” as if fiction has zero impact on the way people perceive and feel about real people. I mean, actors literally get harassed and receive death threats because people hate the fictional characters they portray. I’m reminded of that one Breaking Bad actor and how badly she was harassed because people hated her character. There are a LOT of examples of this.

So many fandoms for fictional content have shipping communities that are wildly toxic. They’ve harassed and doxed other shippers, sent death threats to literal showrunners, creators, writers, VA’s, mangakas. It’s also super common to aggressively hate on characters because of ship wars for fictional pairings too. Do ARMYs really believe that fanfiction is going to have zero impact on how our unbelievably immature fandom perceives and treats the BTS members? Anyone else see how ridiculous that assumption is?

This is particularly an issue because of how extraordinarily common it is for tkkrs to portray Jimin as a villain in their work. It’s very clear that a lot of them purposefully create those narratives in their fanwork as a way to project and vent their actual feelings towards Jimin and the vminkook dynamic (to cope w/ their personal misery). I remember seeing a tkkr requesting fics where Jimin was literally in the “home wrecker, other woman” role (can’t remember the exact phrasing, but that was the gist) and boy did they get plenty of recs. It doesn’t matter if it’s “just fiction” when it has actual real life impact on how some shippers perceive and treat the BTS members.

My issue is not with fanwork but with the lack of accountability in this fandom for how they engage with it and their refusal to try and curb the toxic parts of it. If you participate in RPS of any form I personally believe you have an obligation to be mindful of the way you engage with shipping content and the impact said content has on the real people involved. That should always be the number one priority for anyone participating in RPS. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a serious shipper or not. The issue is that ARMYs aren’t doing that at all. Also the “for-fun” shippers think they’re entirely absolved of any responsibility when they’re actually a big part of the problem.

As soon as shipping within the BTS community crossed a certain line ARMYs should have packed it up, stepped back and recalibrated their relationship with shipping. You know that whole “the fun is over thing”? When this fandom showed that it could not handle shipping responsibly it should have been taken away until they took the time to clean things up and reset the narratives. But that never happened because they prioritize the shipping content over the BTS members. They STILL refuse to even have a conversation about the negative impact shipping has on Jimin and the other members, no matter how bad or how scary things get.

Look, I think it’s genuinely fine if someone’s favorite part of fandom is fanwork and they want to focus solely on fun things. I’ve said several times that I fully understand and respect this perspective. I do not think we all need to be internet warriors subjecting ourselves to those chronically online psychopaths for something that we all do in our free time for fun. People come here for a break and an escape from their daily lives. If they want to just enjoy their time in the fandom I totally get that. I don’t think anyone here owes anything to BTS just because they enjoy their music and content. I would never judge anyone for making that decision. I also think that the Jikook creative community is one of the most fun, chill and OT7 spaces in all of the overarching BTS fandom spaces. I understand wanting to defend it and that’s not what I’m complaining about.

My problem is that if you personally don’t want to pay attention to the hate, if you want to bury your head in the sand, if you’re only here to have a good time, maybe don’t turn around and then try to downplay or diminish all the toxicity that comes out of shipping just because you’re feeling defensive and called out and protective over your shipping spaces or tkkr buddies. Maybe don’t derail or hijack the conversation when ARMYs are trying to have a serious discussion about how to curb the frighteningly out of control organized harassment the members (especially Jimin) are receiving because you’re scared of losing your ship content (which has never been at risk to begin with).

I’m tired of the lecturing and the faux intellectual rants about the importance of creative content from this particular group of self-righteous “for-fun” shippers whenever there’s any criticism about the overall negative impact shipping has on the fandom. Most of them are simply just selfish and hiding it under the guise of moral superiority because they can’t admit that they care more about their fanfiction than they care about the extremely negative, real life consequences shipping has had on Jimin, the fandom, the other BTS members.

This dedication to shutting down any conversation about improving the overwhelmingly toxic and rotten shipping landscape is frustrating to say the least. I’m just tired of all these shitty excuses just to protect a status quo they benefit from. No one is trying to take away, ban or censor fanwork. But having a conversation about the impact that all kinds of shipping has had on this community is extremely overdue and important. The people in the shipping community could be an important part of the conversation and actually make a difference in combating things but they don’t want to bother, because most of them actually don’t really care. They just want to make sure to shut the convo down anytime they feel the status quo they benefit from is being threatened and then go back into their holes to ignore all the toxicity that comes out of it.

And circling back to tkkrs real fast. Yeah, the issue is that even their “for-fun” spaces are just absolutely invested with antis. Their literal biggest fanart accounts are antis with hundreds of thousands of followers? The majority of their general fanbases are antis too (with proof). But these accounts are just constantly being protected and shielded under the guise of “protecting fanwork” and “there’s nothing wrong with shipping for fun”.

And sure, maybe there are some non-serious tkkrs out there who don’t hate Jimin — but here’s the thing. I guarantee you that if you go to any of their accounts right now you will quickly find anti content on their pages or in their following lists — even if they’re engaging with it unknowingly. The tkk ship community is so beyond rotten that it’s literally impossible to participate in it without regularly engaging with antis, and that’s just the truth. I don’t know about you, but I’m never going to be cool or comfortable with that or find myself respecting the people who are. If those tkkrs really cared they would be actively taking the effort to try and clean their spaces out but they clearly don’t lol.

I’m really rambling now, sorry. It’s just tiring today to see the way ARMYs rally to protect fanwork but not the actual BTS members. Again, I have nothing against fic. Some of my favorite ARMYs are content creators who genuinely do a lot for the fandom and have clear respect for the BTS members as artists and individuals. But if someone can’t understand why there is a stigma on shipping considering how awful and out of control shippers are then I don’t even know what to say. Then they are just blatantly choosing not to see it because they don’t want it to inconvenience or threaten their personal fandom experience.

When the BTS community has gotten so toxic that Jimin can’t even mention the name of the person he’s enlisted with without receiving literal death threats, don’t you think that something major needs to be done about it, that it’s deserving of a conversation from every part of the shipping community including “non-serious” shippers? Idk man 🫠 clearly nothing is going to change at this point but I’m definitely at least going to continue hard judging people and being bitchy about it.

Tbh I hope ARMYs never get to freely enjoy shipping in their main fandom spaces ever again unless they actually wake up and start trying to fix things. If they can be complicit in making the experience of everyone who loves Jimin shitty because of their addiction to tkk porn and their passivity to the hate he receives, then I will sit back and passively watch solos drag the shit out of them whenever they’re caught talking about the “captain jeon” AU (unless they’re dragging the members which I am obviously not cool with). I hope those particular ARMYs never know peace honestly. Because if I can’t enjoy Jimin weverse spam or a single Jikook interaction without dealing with psychopaths harassing him then I want the ARMYs responsible for the rotten state of this fandom to be miserable too tbh (but not the good ARMYs who do genuinely care). And that’s my toxic trait.

#ask #anon #discourse #jimin #jikook #sorry for posting this longass rant publicly #just getting the hate out of my system before jikook return #tkkrs

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ask-postcrash-curly · 3 months ago

Note

(The dragon narrows their eyes)

...

I know we have clarified that they didn't hurt you, but have they done anything else besides changing your bandages? Or have they seemed different? I ask partly because Daisuke did talk to a nurse friend of his (although i do doubt she is actually his friend but oh well)

And although she apparently dismissed it, im concerned they might take it out on you for some reason...

(The dragon sighs)

I'm sorry I really don't want to scare, but I dont trust them at all, but absolutely nothing, they keep doing illegal shit, because it is illegal, I will read you the entire law dont test me and it's aching the EMT in me so bad

The excuse that they are tired, doesn't really work on me either...it's a luxury ship, basically nobody gets hurt there, or when they do it's small things, alcohol poisoning, sprains, maybe a concussion from falling badly in the pool at most, but even worse, they have a cushy salary, 12k to 14k a month, i checked, nurses fo have less, 5k a month

This is all in USA, in Spain, that's more than quite a bit of money, for reference, here in Spain there's two main groups of ambulances, Samur and Summa, Samur goes into the streets mostly, Car accidents and the like, Summa goes more into houses and enclosed spaces, it's the more...advanced of the two

The salary if both is between 4k and 7k, this is for EMT doctors btw, they are getting paid th salary of doctors

And sure, I may be wrong, this is technically the future, but in the company I am now? A private one, they barely pay me minimum wage, and neither me or my partners would ever consider treating a patient like they are treating you, not even close, morals aside, none of us want jail

And if you are still not convinced, you aren't the only one they are treating badly, they have it out on Anya for some reason, they keep insulting her, and Swansea

(The dragon sighs heavily again)

Hell, at first I thought that the reason that that nurse was more or less friendly to Daisuke was because, I wrongly assumed, that he had money, like upper middle to rich, i thought because I remember that his parents apparently got him the internship, so I figured they had like connections, and people with connections usually had money, a little stupid I know, since at the end of the day it was a freighter ship not like the luxury ship we are standing on, yeah?

(The dragon's ears droops slightly)

I...may have worded that wrongly when I said it to him, poor kid thought I was implying that he was bribing the nurse to talk to him, got cut off before I could clarify that, feel kinda bad cause the kid is, like Swansea said, a goddamned ray of sunshine, hope one day I can clarify that gem

(The dragon sighs, more softly this time)

I'm gonna end the message now, next time, we have to keep watching that musical, I left you completely in the blank as to how it continues

Hey.

No, they didn't do anything different. Same old, same old. Why do you say that? Kid's pretty likeable.

...No.

It's fine. They're not— they're good at their jobs. They aren't hurting me. I'm no stranger to bending regulations myself, if I'm being real. It's fine.

Well, that's my point, yeah? They weren't expecting a case like me. More work than the job calls for. I don't blame them for being tired of it. Hell, I watched it happening to Anya. Don't know how she did it... Five thousand credits a month isn't that cushy. I mean, hell, it's not bad, but it could certainly be better. Not much more than what I made, really— Shit, wait, I don't know the conversion rates for this system. Right, so it could be less or more... You know what, this is a waste of time. ...Do luxury ships really pay their medical staff more than freighter ships pay their captains? Not that medics don't deserve higher pay, just— Eh. Doesn't matter.

Oh, well, if it's the Americas or Spain this could be entirely different. Since we aren't even in Sol.

Then maybe this isn't as illegal as you think?

Last time I checked, mate, insulting people isn't illegal. Not sure why they'd do that with Anya outside of that thing about her fighting the doctors, but knowing Swansea, uh... If he didn't start it, he certainly finished it.

His parents made him apply. Don't think they pulled strings to get him onboard. If they did, which seems unlikely, I doubt he knows.

If you don't get the chance, I'll clarify it for you when I can, yeah?

Damn, forgot about that. Sounds like a plan.

#curlyposting

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basedkikuenjoyer · 1 year ago

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Motherlode

And here I find myself again, circling back to the same basic thoughts about this arc that really only stretched itself out to about double what I and most others predicted. You get my angle right? While the world's watching, while the fandom's watching someone not named Nico Robin give a little nuggie of Void Century lore...200 chapters after Bakura Town, 100 after Kiku's fall, in a chapter after one with a folk lore allusion title. Stussy breaks the seal. Speaking more or less the same trauma. It's even the same central idea of Wano; ensuring the Straw Hat's escape was Stella's final command. It all runs on that old school Japanese take on ideal feminity; "A woman's happiness is taking care of those she loves." Self-sacrifice to repay kindness towards you.

Bonney has so much to compare and contrast, you're a solid candidate for someone who could kinda fuse Kiku & Yamato, but Stussy? You're our Tamataebako buddy with the same eyes. A trans woman and a clone, can't say it isn't relatable and they both have a demonic facade without an ounce of action girl tomboy tropes. Stussy can nab that torch now just like Bonney could have. But you still exist in that space. Why are we doing you now, after the others? We still have cards unplayed from Wano. When their theme is subtlety one should expect waiting until the final phase.

This chapter gives me a lot that has me excited.

We have a whole theme this chapter of people responding again and doubling down on the idea these different faces we know are reacting differently to Vegapunk's speech. Things different fans are reacting to. Wano the Joyboy lore, Carrot the weaponry, but it's one of those simple tricks that fuel a big deception. None of it is really that much deeper than clarifying what we as readers sorta knew. Of course, for Wano...it isn't the full group but we see a group. It'd make perfect sense for Kiku to be smiling and holding a tray with the implication she brought the dango, she could appear any example of this cover serial...but this is how you have to look at things when strategic absence is an established motif. Oh, and I guess Shino just got to stay youthful. Rock on mature woman, enjoy it.

The world is merely learning more or less what we know. The real story is still playing out. Stussy, the escape, this time we aren't breaking away. It's almost like a good rap track where the first two verses are smooth and melodic leading into a rapid-fire third verse to really hammer the message. I think we'll stick with that as the message unfolds. But this arc has just enough gas it's the opening act not the final point in and of itself. What makes me feel confident this time? Glad you asked:

Nojiko caring more about the farm bolsters this and her alone would have me freaking the fuck out but...bruh. Miss Goldenweek? Goldie!? Marianne and her hilarious in hindsight apple hat? Peep the suitcase, they're leaving to find Cross Guild. But yeah! Miss Friggin Goldenweek and Nojiko have an interesting response to this worldwide message. I love it too. They don't really seem to care much. Nami's big sister and a mellow girl that was one of Luffy's most vexing opponents. She got a cover serial, this little lady was always an oddball waiting to surprise us. For now though this is dope. Don't let her demeanor fool you, she was clearly a top agent for a reason and the reasons really aren't that different than the archetype I see out of Kiku.

What specifically does it though is how she's paired with the reaction focusing on the common people killed as collateral damage. Now let's take it altogether. Because something else going on under the message brings us back to where this felt most powerful:

Uh-oh. The big cloud layer is under attack. The Elbaf ship is getting surrounded. What if they weren't enough? For all the talk about other stuff that could happen if the Giants are the penultimate surprise addition...is it just gonna be the Grand Fleet after all? They make so much sense big picture. Robonosuke is still hanging around at the edge of all this too. Because things are getting dire on Egghead underneath the lore dump.

All in all...I love this shit right now because it's exactly what I've been on about since Wano ended. Wall to wall this chapter. 1115 is a straight banger.

#one piece #chapter 1115 #post-wano musings #miss goldenweek #kin'emon #Momonosuke #Obama #Shinobu #Nami #stussy #kaku

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aldrine-joseph-25 · 1 month ago

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Alien-itis, a Rob the Robot fanfic

DeviantArt link | FanFiction link

Chapter 1: The Ailing Alien

Deep in the far reaches of outer space, the tall, sleek rocket ship of the ever-curious Rob the Robot made its daily rounds of soaring through the glimmering blue surface of the vast Robot Galaxy, brought to life by the bright yellow stars sprinkled here and there and the variety of remarkable, convenient planets anyone in the galaxy could take a trip to, the latter of which the rocket occasionally went in circles around before going on its path as usual without losing track. Eventually, the rocket flew closer and closer to the screen until the window perched against the top of it was the only thing the reader could see, and from within, who else but Rob himself, in the metal, peeked out from the side of the window. However, he seemed a bit… unlike his usual eager self.

“Hi, everyone!”, Rob welcomed the reader, adding, “I’m afraid I have some not-so-good news to break to you…”. He looked pretty nervous and wary, a stark contrast from the customary enthusiasm he usually carried whenever his extra friend(s) dropped by to immerse themselves within the intergalactic escapades he and his crew engaged in on a day-by-day basis. Heading back inside, Rob made his way to his three friends, Ema, TK and Orbit, and further explained, “You see, it’s about our friend Ema. Recently, we noticed she wasn’t in any mood at all to dance or even sing. In fact, she’s awfully sick!”.

And he was being sincere about it too; Ema was just sitting on the floor, moaning with pained discomfort as she hung her head low with one three-fingered hand placed against the side of it, and her antennae hung low and flat like dead, wilted flowers. The most obvious red flag to her illness, however, was her once vibrant green skin, which faded into a duller, paler shade and made poor Ema look less lively and dynamic as a result. TK and Orbit were sympathetically tending to her, stroking a hand against her head and pressing lightly against her forehead to check her body temperature, respectively.

“Ugh… this day just had to come, didn’t it…?”, Ema moaned weakly, her voice carrying none of the spry energy it used to. In all the years of her life in the Robot Galaxy, she had never contracted any sort of sickness before, but every organic being will inevitably fall ill in one way or another, and she was no exception to the rule. “Yeah…”, TK started. “First, me, and now, you… I feel your pain, Ema…”. The red, one-wheeled robot had experienced what it was like to become sick before, recalling the event she caught a space virus that sent her into an uncontrollable sneezing fit, turned her a sickly shade of blue and, worst of all, inadvertently passed on to her fellow robots. To see a similar fate befall their extraterrestrial friend made TK sick to her tummy trunk, metaphorically speaking.

“Tell me ab… ah… ah… AH…”, Ema was about to say before she trailed off into the starting point of an impending sneeze. “Uh-oh… she’s gonna blow! Run!!”, Rob panicked as he, TK and Orbit started to run right on the spot, attempting to escape the incoming sneeze, but it was too little, too late.”AAAH-CHOOO!!!”, Ema finished, emitting a humongous sneeze so powerful it sent her robot friends flying and crashing into a wall with such force that they left deep imprints shaped like themselves protruding from a side of the rocket. “Sorry, guys…”, Ema apologized and wiped her runny nose with her finger as Rob, TK and Orbit managed to pull themselves out of the robot-shaped dents in the wall and headed back to her. “How come you’re not getting sick…?”, she wondered.

“The same way the space virus only affects robots, Ema”, TK clarified. “Whatever you’ve contracted only affects aliens as well”. “And I’m not talking like my words have been mixed together in a blender!”, Orbit joked, recalling what happened when he started showing signs of the space virus before. “That figures…”, Ema took note of that as she got up on both of her sock-wearing feet, adding, “Hm… I wonder if I can still dance in this condition…?”. Rob grew wide-eyed at Ema’s attempt to maintain herself in spite of her sickness, pointing out, “Uh, Ema? I don’t think that’s a good…”, but Ema went ahead anyway before he could finish and performed her usual ballerina twirl.

Rob was right, as instead of striking a pose at the end, Ema gagged and covered her mouth while her legs bent downwards, struggling to keep her balance. That little spin she tried was enough to send her into some pretty nasty motion sickness, to which TK sighed with exasperation, “Oh, dear…”. Trying as much as she could to hold in what she had consumed prior to falling victim to her ailment, Ema staggered over to TK and yanked the compartment on her stomach open, a moment away from vomiting within it. TK was quick to defy this, though, and pushed Ema away, exclaiming, “No! Not in my tummy trunk, Ema! Hold on!”. In just about five seconds, TK rummaged through the contents of her tummy trunk and managed to quickly procure a paper bag for Ema to puke in. “Here, use this instead!”, TK suggested as she handed the paper bag to Ema, who then finally hurled into the bag and expressed gratitude with a disoriented “Thanks, TK… ugh…”.

“Oh, man…”, Rob muttered with concern over his alien friend. “Just when we thought you couldn’t get any more sick, Ema…”. “My sentiments exactly, Rob…”, Ema lamented as she returned the barf-filled bag to TK. “By this point, I might as well just stay in bed and never go on missions with you guys again…”. Just then, Ema’s nose started to act up again as she began, “Ah… ah… AH…”. This time, however, TK managed to pull out a pair of corks from her tummy trunk and shoved them into Ema’s nostrils before she could sneeze them away again. “Oh… I think Mea has told me about this before…”, Ema tried to jog her memory with her nostrils still plugged up. “But I can’t quite seem to put my finger on it…”. “I know what it is, Ema!”, TK informed the sick alien girl as she pulled a book about illnesses out of her tummy trunk and flipped through the pages on the “A” section before eventually coming to…

“A-ha!”, TK figured out what Ema had just contracted. “Ema, it appears you’re suffering from a bad case of alien-itis!”. That last word made its way into Ema’s head, and her memory budged, “Oh… I remember now…”. Continuing to read the page on the book, TK further explained, “It’s self-explanatory enough. Alien-itis only affects aliens, therefore anyone else who ends up getting sneezed on or touched is perfectly safe, including robots”. Rob and Orbit inched closer to TK to take a look at what she was reading as she continued, “Symptoms include pale skin, drooping antennae, a runny nose, uncontrollable sneezing, more pronounced nausea and motion sickness. Alien-itis usually wears off with just enough bed rest, but the recovery process can be accelerated significantly by feeding the patient the prescribed medicine”. “Golly, that’s a mouthful!”, Orbit remarked after listening to TK’s lengthy reading.

After hearing everything TK read from the book, Rob suddenly had an idea as the black “ears” on the sides of his metal head briefly swung outwards. “Alright, everyone, let’s huddle!”, he called to TK and Orbit as the three robots formed a circle with their backs turned outward to initiate a conversation. “TK, do you remember that space virus you caught one time?”, Rob started, and TK answered. “Yes, I remember, Rob. Why’d you ask?”. “When all of us got the virus, it was Ema who got us to the clinic on the Fix-It Planet!”, Orbit chimed in, highlighting how Ema helped them. “That’s right, Orbit!”, Rob said. “She helped us, so why don’t we all repay Ema and help her?”.

Agreeing with Rob’s thoughtful idea, TK and Orbit exclaimed with near-perfect unison, “Yeah!”, as he then declared, “Let’s do this for Ema!”. The three robots then placed their right hands together and raised them up in the air, cheering as Rob announced, “With all that in mind, this sounds like we have a mission! And you know what that means…”.

“Ha-ha! It’s time for us to pick a planet!”.

Chapter 2: Off to the Pharmacy Planet!

Funky dance music then blared in the background as Rob, TK and Orbit busted out their dance moves and shouted “Pick a planet!” here and there. Ema couldn’t participate given not only her condition, but also the fact that she ended up blowing chunks from attempting to perform her signature twirl and pose, so she was forced to sit down and watch, essentially relegated to a mere audience member. This lasted for almost thirty seconds until the three robots eventually finished and settled right in the middle of the room.

“Mission Control?”, Rob called up to the ceiling, from which the eponymous robotic hand emerged. “Hi, everyone! How can I help you today?”, Mission Control greeted the crew, ready to point them in the direction of their desired planet. “Ema’s gotten really sick lately. She’s suffering from alien-itis. This is pretty new to her since she’s never fallen ill before”, Rob explained, and TK added, “It can go away on its own over time, but we’re seeking to get her to recover faster. The cure lies within the prescribed medicine”. Comprehending everything that was explained, Mission Control felt sorry for the ailing Ema, lamenting, “Oh, my… poor Ema… Nobody deserves to catch any sort of illness… Tell you what, I’ve got the perfect planet for you four. Just need to find it…”. And with that, Mission Control summoned a triad of planets from the floor, putting the gang’s logical thinking to the test.

The first of these planets was the Candy Planet. “The Candy Planet? I don’t think so…”, TK shook her head at that. “Yeah, what she said…”, Ema pointed out. “I want to get better, not worse from eating sweets…”. Turning the Candy Planet down, Mission Control then brought up the Music Planet, the second option. “The Music Planet? Ooh, I love dancing!”, Rob chimed in, but Ema shot that down with, “I wish I could go there… if only I wasn’t terribly sick, that is…”. Remembering Ema’s condition, Rob relented, “Oh… right…”, as Mission Control set that planet aside and brought in the final option, which was the Pharmacy Planet. It resembled a giant medicine bottle with pills and smaller bottles orbiting around it; just the type of place necessary for Ema’s treatment!

“Oooh, look at that!”, Rob beamed. “That planet is just right! We’ll have Ema back to good health in no time!”. Agreeing with Rob, Mission Control finalized his decision, “Ah, yes! The Pharmacy Planet! Good thinking, Rob!”, and as the planets popped back into the floor, he urged them to “Get ready for countdown!”. “Hurry, everyone! Head to your stations and buckle your seatbelts!”, Rob ordered to his friends as he then proceeded to run off to his seat, while TK and Orbit passed by each other, also heading to their respective stations.

Once he made his way into his seat, Rob cracked his metal knuckles and hit the button right in front of him, causing the rocket to spin around in preparation for its eventual blast-off as the countdown began. TK made her way to her corresponding station, manning the secondary controls besides Rob. Ema’s seat popped up as usual, but since she was still in terrible condition, she didn’t have the energy to pull off the usual somersault into it, so instead she hobbled as quickly as she could towards it before sitting down, after which the seatbelts locked themselves against her as usual. Lastly, Orbit wheeled backwards into his station, where stacks of green gelatin dropped down in front of him, serving as impromptu seatbelts. Now that everyone was in place, Rob quickly pushed the gear stick forward, upon which the rocket took off in a shot.

Moving faster than usual, the rocket swept like a bullet past the stars and over the planets as it made its way to its final destination. “Next stop, the Pharmacy Planet!”, Mission Control declared, and with just a moment to spare, the rocket eventually made it and managed a safe, steady landing on the surface. From there, the door to the rocket swung open, and Rob, TK and Orbit made their way down to the surface to observe and marvel at their surroundings. The majority of the Pharmacy Planet was comprised of shelves and counters of varying heights and sizes containing every form of medication in existence, so finding the specific one needed for Ema, who was told to stay put and get some rest in the rocket, to consume proved to be the challenge the three robots had to tackle.

“Okay, first course of action, guys!”, Rob declared. “What exactly does Ema need to consume to be cured? What else did the book say?”. Bringing out the illness book again, TK returned to the alien-itis page and pointed to a small picture of a bright green medicine bottle adorned with a pink label on it, clarifying, “This is the one, Rob! We need to find the green bottle that has the pink label!”. “Then it’s settled! Operation: Anti-Alien-itis is a go! Come on!”, Rob announced and signaled to his fellow robots, and with that, he, TK and Orbit advanced further through the Pharmacy Planet faster than he could say “Rockin’ robots!”.

Chapter 3: Searching for the Cure

As the robot trio explored the maze-like aisles of pharmaceutical products, Orbit took a moment to gaze and marvel at everything that was stocked up on the shelves, remarking, “Wow... the Pharmacy Planet sure comes prepared! It has everything!”. “That's right, Orbit!”, TK said, further clarifying, “Antihistamines, pain relievers, vitamins, oral hygiene and even band-aids!”. “Yeah, just like the ones on the back of your head!”, Rob added, then exchanged a brief chuckle with TK and Orbit before reminding them, “Now remember, green bottle with pink label, just like Ema! Got that?”. “Yes, Rob!”, TK and Orbit attentively replied in unison.

During the trip, though, something rather startling caught Orbit's attention as he and his friends passed by it. It was an aisle adorned and stocked with sharp, pointy syringes varying in size and length. Twinkles of light beamed from the very tips of the needles to emphasize just how easily they could pierce through skin and give whoever was on the receiving end of them a rather unpleasant sensation akin to the sting of a bumblebee. Almost immediately, the mere sight of the needles was enough to strike terror into Orbit, who temporarily forgot he was a robot, as his pupils shrank to the size of ants and the gears within his body turned faster than usual. Then, he stammered, “N-N-N-N-NEEDLES!!!”, as he frantically shuffled his treads on the spot and darted back towards Rob and TK, bumping into them and knocking them down in the process.

“Rob! TK! There are needles around here!!”, Orbit quavered to his friends as he trembled like a neurotic Chihuahua. “Needles? What are you talking about, Orbit?”, Rob inquired as he got up and dusted himself off, and Orbit added, “Yes, needles! They're sharp, pointy and scary, and I don't wanna be pinched by them!!”. Getting up as well, TK assured Orbit, “Oh, Orbit. You're being ridiculous! You're a robot, remember? Robots are made of metal, and syringes can't pierce metal!”. Orbit's tone then shifted from sheer terror to astonishment before he exclaimed, “Oh… I guess you're right, TK! Needles can't hurt me after all!”, tapping on his metal torso on the last part of that sentence. His tone then segued to sheepishness as he chuckled to himself, “What was I thinking? Being afraid of needles?”, as Rob added, “If Ema was here with us, I'm sure she'd be more scared of the needles than you are of them”. “Now let's keep going!”, Rob then signaled to his fellow robots to continue the search.

Rob, TK and Orbit continued to trudge until the former set his eyes on something that caused him to pipe out, “Greasy gears! Look!”. The object of interest was a peculiar section of the aisle designed specially for the galaxy's robotic inhabitants. Among said remedies were bottles of lubricant, cans of rust remover and even boxes filled to the brim with spare parts. "Whoa...", TK said, trying to wrap her head around the unbelievable level of convenience the planet went far to. "The Pharmacy Planet sure has everything alright... even robot stuff!".

“I know, right?”, Orbit said before his eyes caught something sitting on one of the shelves, and as he exclaimed, “Oooh!”, he rolled his treads over to the object of interest and picked it up. It was a firetruck-red jerrycan of robot oil, a substance which the robots would sometimes consume as one method of keep their energy levels in check. “Check this out, guys! Robot oil! I bet this’ll come in handy for us!”, Orbit beamed. "Orbit, we’re not here to get oil!", Rob reminded him, adding, "We’re looking for Ema’s medicine, remember? Focus! We're getting closer!". Begrudgingly, Orbit returned the jerrycan to its spot on the shelf and caught up behind Rob and TK as they moved further.

Eventually, the three robots finally made it to an aisle stocked with identically-shaped bottles of varying, eye-catching colors, both in glass and label; surely, some of them had to be the exact combination of green and pink they were dead-set on. “Alright, guys, we're almost there…”, Rob declared, sensing they were close to finding the cure to their alien friend's illness. “The clock is ticking, so we have to act fast! TK?”. Opening up her tummy trunk and rummaging through the endless supply of objects within, TK procured three binoculars for each of them to use so they could spot the exact item they were after more quickly without the need to go near the shelves. “These binoculars will help!”, Rob commended his red friend as he took one of the binoculars and placed them in front of his eyes, magnifying everything he could see in front of him. Orbit took the third pair of binoculars and did likewise, and as Rob latched onto TK’s back, he rephrased, “Okay, you know the drill, guys! Green bottle, pink label!”. And in an instant, TK and Orbit took off across the aisle, with Rob perched on the former. The search was on!

With the binoculars glued to their eyes, the three robots looked out at every angle and direction possible as they navigated their way through the bottle-lined maze, desperately trying the best they could do to locate their medical MacGuffin. “Come on, it’s gotta be around here somewhere…”, Rob muttered as he scaled up to the top of TK’s head and stood on it so he could get a better look at the higher-placed bottles. “Pink bottle, green label… nope…”, TK closely observed some of the bottles they passed by, taking into consideration the precise color scheme. “Red with blue label… yellow with orange label… brown with white label… nuh-uh!”. “Wait, I think I see a pink label!”, Rob beamed as he focused on what appeared to be their sought-after prize, only for his zeal to fade as he realized, “Nope… that bottle’s orange…”.

Meanwhile, Orbit was having marginally better luck than Rob and TK. The key word was “marginally”. He had managed to venture into a section of the aisle where the bottles lining the shelves were green, but they came in both light and dark shades as well as labels in every color except pink. So close, yet so far. “Red… blue… green…”, Orbit paid attention to a good chunk of the bottles he saw on the way as he squinted his size-mismatched eyes behind his binoculars, continuing, “Orange… yellow… purple… where are you, pink label? I know you’re out there!”.

Back to Rob and TK, they continued to patrol the area, binoculars and all. “Light blue with dark blue label… scratch that…”, TK rejected one of the bottles they zoomed by, inquiring to Rob above her head, “Having any luck, Rob?”. “Not quite, TK…”, Rob answered as he kept looking. “Boy, they really need to label all of these shelves. It’s like finding a needle in a…”. His statement was left hanging when suddenly, by pure chance, his eyes quickly got a glimpse of something that prompted him to call out, “Wait! TK! Go back!”, and almost immediately, TK put on the brakes and questioned, “What’s that, Rob? You found something?”. Positive about that, Rob beamed, “Yes! I think we’ve hit the jackpot!”, to which TK obliged and wheeled about two rows backwards. Jumping off from TK’s head, Rob pointed upwards to the shelf looming in front of them, exclaiming, “Look up there, TK! This is it!”. TK could not believe her eyes as she gasped with delight and quipped, “Bouncing space bugs!”.

There they were. Perched on the very top of the shelf in front of Rob and TK were a perfect row of green bottles the shade of Ema’s formerly vibrant green skin, decked out with labels that perfectly matched the pink on her pajamas. It took quite a while, but they had finally found the key to Ema’s recovery, and their mission was one step closer to being accomplished.

To further confirm their discovery, TK once again brought out her illness book and skipped straight to the alien-itis page as Rob alternated his attention between the actual bottles on the shelf and the picture on the book. “It’s a perfect match, alright!”, Rob happily declared and added in unison with TK, “Green bottle, pink label!”, after which they triumphantly exchanged a high-five. Not long after, Orbit returned to his friends, visibly exhausted from doing his part of the search, and, having overheard what Rob said, inquired, “You did?”. “We sure as heck did, Orbit!”, Rob exclaimed as he grabbed Orbit’s head with both hands and swiveled it upwards for him to get a view of the green, pink-labeled bottles.

Almost immediately, Orbit’s exhaustion and frustration gave away to elation as he then jumped in place and piped out, “Cracking comets! You did! I thought we’d never find it for sure!”. “Now, all we need is to get one of them and Ema’s as good as gold!”, Rob declared. “Stand back! I’ve got this!”. Activating his rocket boots, Rob then flew up to the shelf, coming close to obtaining the medicine, only for them to run out of juice, causing Rob to drop back feet-first to the ground. “Oh, space rats! My rocket boots are drained!”, Rob grumbled, to which Orbit moaned, “Well, so much for that…”.

However, TK, being the smartest among her friends, quickly managed to work out a solution. “Wait, guys! I’ve got it!”, she exclaimed before rummaging through her tummy trunk and procuring a balloon, handing it to Rob. “Oooh, great idea, TK!”, Rob complimented TK’s smart move. “I can get all the way up there with balloons! I like the way you think!”. The last time he was sent up, up and away by holding enough balloons (and a big green egg for good measure) on the Party Planet, it was one of those times where he was in trouble and his friends had to go out and help him, but this time, he was going to rely on said balloon flight in order to acquire their needed product.

TK continued to dig through the contents of her tummy trunk, pulling out six more balloons in batches and handing them over to Rob. Like before, Rob felt his metal feet drift away from the ground as he tightly clenched all seven balloons in his fist and got ready to snatch one of the green, pink-labeled medicine bottles, all while TK and Orbit looked up at him attentively. Sure enough, the very moment he floated up to that very column on the shelf, Rob quickly swung his arm, swiped one of the bottles and raised it triumphantly in the air, calling out, “I got it! I got it!”.

Back down, TK and Orbit applauded and cheered for him before the former opened up the compartment on her stomach again, this time to pull out a large butterfly net to catch Rob. Positioning the net directly below him, TK instructed loudly up to Rob, “Now, let go of the balloons! I’ll catch you!”. Hearing TK from below, Rob immediately obeyed, letting go of the balloons and plummeting all the way back down while they continued to float up to the air. TK raised the net a bit further upwards as Rob eventually landed safely within it, after which he got up, placing his free hand on the edge of the net, and presented the prescribed medicine bottle to TK and Orbit with a “Ta-da!”.

“Way to go, Rob! You did it!”, TK praised Rob as she set the butterfly net on the ground for him to get out of entirely. Clapping and chuckling for Rob, Orbit proudly exclaimed, “Now we have the medicine Ema needs! She’ll be better in no time!”. “Speaking of Ema…”, Rob remembered. “Everybody back in the rocket! She’s waiting for us!”.

With the green, pink-labeled bottle finally within their grasp, the robot trio then made their way back to the rocket, ready for the incoming moment of truth.

Chapter 4: Recovery and Recap

Back in the rocket ship, TK poured out some of the syrup contained in the bottle into a spoon and inched it towards Ema, who was still sick as she laid down against the wall behind her. “Now, open your mouth and say aah, Ema”, TK told Ema. “It doesn’t matter what it tastes like. What matters is that it’ll make you feel better”. Taking a short moment to consider, Ema, prioritizing her health, then relented, “Okay, TK…”. And with that, she opened her mouth as wide as she possibly could and uttered a drawn-out “Aaah…”, allowing TK to lower the syrup-filled spoon straight into it as Ema then consumed the dose. Predictably, she also retched at its rather bitter tang, remarking, “Ugh! I should’ve known what it tastes like…”.

“That should do it”, TK declared as she screwed the bottle shut and tenderly patted Ema on the head, adding, “Rest well now, Ema. That alien-itis of yours will be gone faster than you can do a twirl”. As TK then headed into the elevator and went down to the bottom floor to put the medicine bottle away, a warm smile slowly formed across Ema’s sickly face as she looked up at Rob and Orbit, who were also pleased to see their extraterrestrial buddy on the way to her ultimate recovery. “I couldn’t thank you more, you guys…”, Ema gratefully started. “You went through all of that trouble you told me, all just to get me my medicine…”.

“After all, you got me, TK and Orbit to the clinic on the Fix-It Planet when that space virus spread to all of us!”, Rob pointed out, reminding Ema of her strong-willed gesture. “So, in return, we went out of our way to help you!”, Orbit duly stated. “Because that’s exactly what good friends would do! Caring for one another as if they’re family!”. Truly touched by how much her metal compadres cared for her, Ema, without getting up to her feet, inched closer to the two robots for a hug, saying further, “ I’m lucky to have friends like you, guys… I really am…”. Rob and Orbit smiled even wider and returned the hug, wishing Ema nothing but the best of luck for her return to good health.

A few hours would pass, and lo and behold, the medicine had completed its magic on Ema. As the rocket ship remained parked on the Pharmacy Planet, Rob, TK and Orbit were busy playing Robo Go Fish with each other as a means to wait for her to recover when she suddenly sprinted up to them, back in tip-top shape and energy, and every single symptom of her alien-itis had all but vanished. Her skin had saturated back into its bright green hue, her antennae were standing erect again, and best of all, she could now safely dance as much as she desired without devolving into a nauseous vomiting frenzy afterwards. “Wow, guys!”, Ema cheerfully exclaimed, her voice having been rejuvenated as well. “All of that bed rest, and that medicine, has been paying off for me! I’m feeling all better now!”.

Rob, TK and Orbit were just as overjoyed to witness this, if not more, collectively rejoicing, “Ema!”, as they swarmed up to their alien friend and rewarded her with a hug from all sides. “Welcome back, Ema!”, TK voiced proudly as the robots then broke up the hug. Giggling, Ema then quipped, “What can I say? It’s good to be alive, indeed! Good to be alive!”. “And it’s good to say that this is one medical mission accomplished!”, Rob exuberantly declared as his friends cheered and clapped.

The gang then settled within the middle of the room, ready to depart from the Pharmacy Planet and go on with the rest of their day as usual. “Mission Control?”, Rob summoned the robotic hand, who came down from the ceiling and greeted Rob again, “You’re back, Rob! How is Ema feeling as of now?”. Ema obviously knew the answer to that, so she responded, “Wonderful, Mission Control! My alien-itis has gone away! I’m now feeling a whole lot better!”. “That’s great!”, Mission Control said, sharing the robots’ happiness over their friend’s recovery. “Now, what did you learn on your mission?”.

Summoning the gang’s purple couch for them to sit on, Mission Control then pointed his finger at the screen behind them as the couch turned around to face it, projecting onto it the “www.robtherobot.com” website and a montage of clips showcasing everything that occurred prior.

“Well, Ema was suffering from a disease called alien-itis, which only affects aliens and not robots”, Rob started to explain. “She was sneezing and even vomiting, but thanks to the book TK had, we managed to find out the cure which would speed up the recovery process, so we went to the Pharmacy Planet to obtain it. The bottle of medicine we needed to get for Ema was green with a pink label, so we made sure to memorize it”. It was Orbit’s turn to speak up, “While we were exploring the Pharmacy Planet, though, I found some pretty sharp needles and freaked out, but then TK reminded me that we were robots and that needles couldn’t pierce metal!”. “We also found a section of the planet tailor-made for robots, but that’s not what we were here for, so we moved along”, Rob continued. Next, TK told her side of the story, “Then, when we eventually made it to the aisles with those medicine bottles, we looked around for a minute or two until we finally found the exact alien-itis medication!”. “My rocket boots ran out of power, though, so TK gave me balloons to float up and grab one of them, and Operation: Anti-Alien-itis was a success!”, Rob came close to finishing the recap, adding, “In conclusion, we not only learned that getting plenty of bed rest is important for recovering from sickness, but memorizing something enough times will help you remember it in the long run!”.

“I’m happy to hear that, Rob! Now, you four better head back home!”, Mission Control proclaimed as the gang got off of the couch and headed back to their respective stations. As Mission Control counted down from 5 to 1, the rocket ship began to rumble, foggy clouds of smoke fuming out from the engine at the bottom, while Rob and company sat securely at their stations. Almost immediately, they exchanged a collective, triumphant “Yay!” as soon as the countdown finished, after which the rocket blasted off back into outer space, leaving the surface of the Pharmacy Planet. As the rocket ship departed and zoomed the opposite direction past the stars and planets, Rob bid a farewell to their previous destination, “Goodbye, Pharmacy Planet!”.

The End.

#rob the robot #rob #ema #tk #orbit #squeak #robot #robots #alien #tvo kids #sick #ill #illness #sickness #medicine #pharmacy #fanfic #fanfiction #story #fan fiction #fan fic

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xjulixred45x · 6 months ago

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Cesar Salazar x Scientist! Reader

Traduction from a Request in spanish

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: none really, typical canon violence, Cesar is kind of dense but get over it. Fluff.

• Everyone in Providence has a purpose, whether they know it or not.

• Rex heals the EVOS and wants to know who he was before, Holiday investigates and experiments to save her sister, even Six might have his own ulterior motives.

• Everyone has a reason to be there, everyone has a purpose and a use.

• Reader, on the other hand, was a bit different.

• She had no dramatic story that tied her to the Nanite event, she had no relatives to save, she had no mission to accomplish with the help of her alliance with Providence. Nothing.

• She had only joined the program, she had joined Providencia out of pure curiosity and fascination towards the unknown.

• Obviously there were other factors around that, like trying to understand what makes EVOs so destructive and how to help. But what caused all that interest was the curiosity to see something so strange.

• Reader is someone very involved in work, almost to an obsessive point. So several colleagues even stopped working with her because they considered her “strange” and too intense.

• Reader pretended that she didn't care, of course she didn't, they have every right to do the work however they want! But it definitely affected her self-esteem quite a bit. Who needs Friends anyway

• At least there were people who didn't think she was annoying (at least not to that much), like Holiday, who would help her not to overdo her late nights or go too long without eating.

• Rex also began to realize that Reader was not as bad as they painted her, yes, she was intense, but she did her job well and saved people. That's what matters, right?

• In this type of job, you expect everything from literal Kaiju attacks to bacteria that eat you from the inside out or even a flying whale.

• However, it was a surprise when reader took ONE day off and when she came back everything was a mess, a SHIP of some kind outside, and some kind of larger, literal/autistic Rex.

• Fortunately Rex (and Bobo) clarified the situation a bit. It turns out that not only was Rex receiving TELEPATHIC messages, but he had an OLDER BROTHER NOW.

• I'll be honest, it's likely that Reader and Cesar didn't get along at first. Even if it was quite one-sided.

• Reader would be very worried about Rex and what Cesar might have in mind, so she would be making passive aggressive remarks about how convenient it was that he should return NOW of all times and not before, how Rex was left alone when he was just a child (some self-projection here because HELL how I disliked Cesar at the time), etc.

• While Cesar either didn't pay attention to her or felt guilty because everything she said was true.

• The tension could be cut with a knife, it was quite uncomfortable, and it would continue like that for a long time.

• Fortunately, they had the opportunity to find things in common as the months went by and for the reader to calm down with her anger.

• Let's say there was some dangerous situation, something that involved the two of them and that made them HAVE TO work together YES OR YES because if not the consequences would be CATASTROPHIC (maybe thanks to Breach. Or like that episode where Rex and Cesar get trapped in god knows where with mutant creatures).

• On the one hand, the reader is intense and meticulous, but Cesar is the real-life equivalent of a mad scientist. So they end up solving the problem using what they both have in common, great intelligence.

• They end up leaving the situation unscathed, and thanks to that, they end up seeing each other with different eyes from here on.

• Cesar honestly thought that the reader's only purpose was to intimidate him, but she is genuinely a good scientist. And very good under pressure. Willing to make difficult decisions. He respects that.

• While the reader only saw Cesar as someone who did not take things seriously. A mad scientist at best and a maniac at worst. But it turns out he really cares about Rex. And it's genuinely brilliant. Curious. Very curious.

• From here on, the reader is more willing to listen to Cesar's ideas for experiments. It is even installed in its laboratory to do the tests in person.

• Sure, there are times when things fly or catch on fire, but hey, details.

• At least it helps to continue removing the tension between them. Like when the reader laughs out loud when Cesar almost sets his hair on fire.

• Or when the reader has to go pick up an ABSURD amount of coffee and fire extinguishers because 1- they don't have enough in the lab and 2- they both stay up legendary allnighters/late nights to get to the bottom of some problem with an invention.

• At this point it seems that the reader sees more of Caesar than Rex. And it's probably Bobo who starts the joke about them being together.

• obviously not! They're just lab mates. The only reader she has had who can handle her “intensity” and that's fine...

• Of course, if we talk about what happens during the last season... Cesar better be able to run fast.

• Obviously reader wants to improve the lives of the EVOs! but by curing them! not basically GIVING THEM A LOBOTOMY!

• Although of course, curiosity is the oldest evil. Although the reader is disgusted with what Providencia has become, she cannot look away.

• If we talk about a POST-SHOW relationship that is definitely less painful :D

• First of all, it helps a lot if they are both scientists, especially if the reader can have the same level of commitment to the work as Cesar. This way you can spend more time together. In a way this reminds Cesar of his parents. A couple of scientists.

• Mind you, it's hard to get either of you to take a break. Rex has had to DRAG them to his room so they can sleep or at least change the coffee dispenser for a water dispenser so they don't die from a caffeine overdose.

• Despite this, Cesar actually takes the safety of the experiments very seriously and that the reader also has safe equipment. He doesn't let it be seen. But it affects him to think what would happen if something went wrong.

• Fortunately the only bad things that have happened are some minor fires. So only a few bandages are necessary.

• Cesar is not very physical with affection, not only because he is not physical, but because of the type of substances he handles, he got used to not touching people for safety reasons. But definitely try to compensate by being more verbal.

• They have better communication! While they suck at telling when they're really tired, they definitely know how to tell when something is wrong or bothering them.

• For Cesar, his family is very important, so he VERY appreciates how close Rex and reader are, and how much she protects him.

• Speaking of, at some point they would have to introduce the reader to Grandma. She would probably be VERY surprised - not that she thought Cesar would ever bring a girlfriend! (well partly yes), but she is definitely surprised in a good way.

• The reader probably likes to tease or make jokes about Cesar about his time with a beard (aka, when he was bad) and it is one of the FEW times that you can witness an embarrassed Cesar.

• These two are not going to have children, they cannot have children, the only children allowed are robots and hopefully a plant (which neither of them can keep alive). IT'S REX'S JOB TO GIVE THEM NEPHEWS!

• In general, they started with a TERRIBLE first impression, became one-sided rivals, then friends, then not so friends, and finally now they can live a quiet life.

• Honestly, they don't complain. They are happy, in their own strange and unconventional way.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

#headcanons #fem reader #generator rex x reader #generator rex cesar #generator rex caesar #generator rex caesar salazar #caesar salazar #cesar salazar

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the-mandawhor1an · 5 months ago

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The essence of life

Chapter 12 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Chapter summary: After the semi-success on Glavis and Din’s exclusion from his covert, Maia offered to fly them to Tatooine. Perhaps Peli can help them find what to do next. Or they would just take a small vacation and continue working on their relationship.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! not that much to tag this time around tbh; lots of touching in this chapter; fluff; body image issues; consumption of alcohol; feelings; two idiots in love; a lil body worship; short mention of captivity; short mention of Din's past as a mercenary;

Words: 13.8k

A/N: Well well well if it isn’t yet another way too long chapter (I swear I try to keep myself short but the two just … yap and do too many things!)

also peep the art I commissioned from @kenobiwanx last year. We finally get to find out why Maia wears a dress!

Their travel had been relatively quiet. Din received the space he needed to work through all of his emotions, and Maia maneuvered them back to Tatooine. It wasn’t that the brunette had locked him out, the comm channel had ben up all flight in case he wanted to talk after all, but she respected his privacy. This would be one of the few instances he would have to himself if they stayed together now. He probably rested back there, exhausted from the hunt, the training and whatever else he had been up to back at the covert. Maia nibbled on a nutri-bar on the way to the sand planet, more out of boredom than actual hunger. Ever since she had put on muscle, her hunger had become a little more noticeable – and it fact a little annoying.

Their entry into the atmosphere was a little shaky, she wasn’t the best pilot out there, but she didn’t do it on purpose. At least Din would know they were about to land. Mos Eisley was visible from relatively high up, now even more so, as there was suddenly a lot of blue that reflected back from the surface. Something was going on in the city and they would find out what it was soon enough. Perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to detox from their incessant adventures. Perhaps they could continue what they had started on Glavis.

As soon as Maia had activated the automatic landing aid, a familiar voice shrieked at her via the radio. »Hey, this isn’t public parking, find another damn hangar!« Wow. Din would for sure be awake now. »Too bad,« Maia hummed, a big grin on her lips that was audible in her voice. »I have a bunch of Mandalorian steel with me that reaaally missed you.« There was silence on the other end for a moment. »Now wait a damn second, Maia? Could’ve told me it was you right away. Come on down, you’re just in time.«

In time for what, exactly?

They made it out of the starfighter and Peli’s droids swarmed the ship. »Mando! Glad to see you’re back, and reunited with your charming little friend, none the less.« The mechanic placed both hands over her heart. »It broke my heart when I saw you had split up, but I’m glad you rekindled. Why did you separate in the first place? And where is the green guy?« She bombarded them with questions, looking around to see Grogu somewhere. »He’s with his kind,« Din explained. Maia turned her head to her partner and gave him an apologetic look. »There’s more than one of these cute little things?« Peli completely misunderstood, but then again, had she even realized Grogu was force-sensitive? Din clarified »no, I mean he is with a Jedi.«

Maia took a step closer to Din and placed a hand onto his vambrace. He didn’t move, maybe he didn’t want her to display her affection when they weren’t alone. Peli got the memo regardless and changed the topic. »So, what brings you two here?« The brunette still had her eyes glued to Din, but she looked over to the mechanic to reply, shrugging. »Nothing,« she responded, unsure if Din wanted anyone to know what their actual business was. »We’ve been through quite a lot and to be honest, I’d appreciate to have some peace and quiet for a few days.« Din was free to agree or not. »Well, peace and quiet will be hard to come by with the festival starting soon. I doubt you consider fireworks to be quiet.«

»There’s a festival?« Maia asked. She had seen the blue and turquoise tarps all over the city, it made sense that they had just accidentally made it here for a festival. »Yes, the annual Harvest Festival of the moisture farms.« Peli stared into an empty face and a similarly expressionless helmet visor. »Come on, it’s almost as popular as Boonta Eve! You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of it.« Maybe it was popular on Tatooine, but Maia had never even heard of any kind of holiday apart from Empire Day, which they had celebrated in the facility. She felt a little bad about being so clueless. Did Din know? »I’ve never even seen fireworks,« the brunette confessed. There was yet another sting in the back of her neck and when she look over to Din, the visor faced her. »If you want to, we can go there and look at the fireworks.« Her heart jumped a little. Would Din actually go to a festival with her?

»First of all, we go shopping. I might not be able to get you out of the armor without threat of violence, but Maia is a different story. She needs something else to wear, more festival appropriate, something a little prettier than…« Peli interrupted them, motioning in Maia’s direction, pointing to her black robes. The brunette scoffed and put her hands on her hips. Rude… »You can go shopping while I see if I can get a room for us. I’m sure Peli is a better help with finding something for you to wear,« Din told them while grabbing some credits for the girls to go to the bazaar. Before Maia could receive the amount from Din’s hand, Peli had stepped in and snatched the credits away. There was nothing faster than Peli Motto when it came to money, it seemed. »I doubt there will be any rooms left, but good luck. I have a mattress you can sleep on.«

Once again, the mechanic practically dragged Maia away and she looked back towards where Din stood, his gaze lingering on her; yearning. He seemed a little lost for a moment, suddenly alone with his thoughts and himself. As bad as Maia felt for leaving him, she knew it wouldn’t take long for her and Peli to return. Realistically, how long would it take for her to find a nice dress when half of the city had turned into a bazaar? Peli counted the credits and grumbled. »This is enough for an outfit but not for a pretty one. I thought he’d be willing to spend more if it was for you.«

»A dress is all I need.« Maia would only wear it this once, why would she waste money on shoes and accessories? »And a necklace,« she added after she remembered the mudhorn pendant Din sill had in one of his belt pouches. It was good she remembered it now, because now she could specifically look for dresses that had a deeper neckline so the pendant would be visible. Still she wondered if there was a deeper meaning behind wearing his clan symbol. It meant a lot to him, he had made that clear, even if his clan was now nonexistent. It made it obvious she belonged with him. His way of marking her. The thought made her cheeks heat up.

»Do you think we’ll find something before the festival starts?« she asked Peli as they were still walking through the crowds that had formed between all of the different merchants. It was a little overpowering, the people, the noise, and yes, even the smells. There were spice and food merchants sprinkled in between and the mixture of different foods reminded her a little of the aroma in the bar on Glavis. And then she remembered the scent of burnt flesh that she had to shake off of her. »We have enough time and there will be enough to choose from, don’t you worry.«

The first booth they encountered on their slow journey through the densely packed streets didn’t look too bad, but then again – also not breathtaking. Some of the dresses had the right shape that should suit Maia’s body and size, but the colors were… »hideous,« Peli shook her head as she browsed through the clothes on a rack, all of them in similar shades of brown, beige, and some leaning towards yellow. »Yellow is such an ugly color to wear when we’re surrounded by sand. This festival is about life and water and not the same three shades of beige we get to live in.« Maia shot the merchant an apologetic look, but then again, Peli was kind of right. She didn’t want to blend in with the crowd or camouflage herself against a wall. If this was her only opportunity to dress up in the foreseeable future, she wanted to go all out and be as visible as possible. She would be with a Mandalorian in a reflective armor, after all, how would it look like if he was a walking mirror and she appeared as a floating head?

They traveled to the next booth, Peli also warning Maia to keep her valuables in check. Which valuables? The Brunette only owned the clothes she wore, a ship no one could pickpocket, and the lightsabers she had left in her ship. As they reached the next merchant, Maia occupied herself with checking the dresses on the rack before her, while Peli practically dove hands first into a large pile of differents fabrics, assuming these were dresses as well. While the women were looking for something suitable, Maia thought about what the mechanic had said just earlier, about hoping Din’s spending habits were a little more generous when it came to her. »Peli?« Maia asked, using the dresses before her as a distraction to not look at the other woman. She pulled out a teal dress and held it before herself, looking down her own body. »Mh?« the mechanic replied, elbow deep in a mountain of ruffles in a weirdly neon shade of green.

Maia bit her lip, debating whether or not to actually ask. But then again, Peli was brutally honest, sometimes a little too much. If there was anyone’s opinion to be trusted, it was hers. »How did you know Mando has a thing for me?« It was a question and partially a confession. She just now realized it, sure the mechanic would register that and use it for fuel to make the two even more uncomfortable with her comments. »He thinks he’s so safe underneath that helmet. I see how he looks at you, he did ever since you showed up here with him. That bucket lingered on you longer than necessary, too long to be casual. I know how men are. I’ve been with enough to know, believe me.« Yeah I don’t doubt that, please spare me with the details. She hung the teal dress back, but she had now given the mechanic the perfect target to focus on. Her and Din’s relationship.

»How close are you two now?« Well, if Peli had registered Din’s gazes, she sure had seen how Maia looked at him now. A little uncomfortable with the topic, Maia hung the dress back and stammered with now very obviously blushed cheeks. »I guess you could say we are a couple?« The reaction was … surprisingly wholesome. »Oh? So you could get through that hard shell after all? Not that I doubted you, there was something in his posture when you were around. He laughed more too. As soon as you had left he was back to the grumpy tin can I had known him as.« Well, was that good now? It surely didn’t feel to nice to be reminded of their separation. Had her presence changed him so much in the little time they had spent together? She knew he had changed her a lot. To hear it might have been in both directions all this time, was a little reassuring, though. After their fight just the day before, it calmed her. They were together – the past didn’t matter. Even the very recent past.

»Now wait a damn minute,« Peli’s eyes lit up as she still rummaged through the piles of dresses before her. »Do you see what I see?« Maia turned to look and Peli unearthed a glittery dream from the depths of the pile of candy colors. At first it was hard to make out a color while it was still covered in multiple layers of transparent fabrics, but when Peli had pulled it out in its entirety, the brunette almost teared up. Peli held out a glittery, silverish dress, shimmering like a damn sea of stars. If Maia’s eyes weren’t betraying her, it looked to be about the same shade as Din’s armor. She took the dress by the straps and held it to her body. It seemed to be a perfect fit, both in silhouette and also in the size. There should be enough skin showing on her neckline to accommodate the pendant, too. The fabric was kind of heavy and therefore felt expensive. She took a closer look. There were thin metallic threads woven into the fabric that made the dress sparkle from afar. It didn’t feel scratchy despite the glitter either.

»I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful dress,« she confessed and inspected it a little more, while Peli scanned her up and down. »Might not be cheap but a Sarlacc can swallow me right up if Mando doesn’t get completely blown away by this. Not gonna lie, wish I could see his face when he sees you in it.« Maia’s eyes were practically glued to the dress. »Yeah, me too,« she absent-mindedly agreed, not telling the mechanic that she had seen Din’s face, and not telling her that she wanted to see his reaction unfiltered, either. »Let’s get the dress and then we can go back so you have time to get ready.« Easier said than done, the brunette thought, but Peli haggled with the merchant as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. It seemed the mechanic was a huge fan of the young couple and Maia couldn’t help but smirk a little at the thought. At least someone approved of this relationship.

»I still need a necklace,« Maia remembered as they left the booth, a beige tote bag with the dress now hanging from her shoulder. »You have to be a little more specific. A necklace can be found at every other booth, here.« »Just a chain to attach a pendant to. I have one I want to wear.« And as Peli said, it was easy to find a simple silver chain that would hold her pendant. It was nothing expensive nor overly artistic, just a delicate chain with a small clasp closure. With that also securely packed away in a smaller bag, the women returned to the hangar, seemingly more successful than Din had been. He awaited them by Maia’s ship, his posture a little hunched over. Maybe his back was causing him discomfort after the long flight. »Let me guess, no luxury suite this time?« the brunette greeted him.

Din walked over to them and sighed. »Sorry, cyar’ika. Everything in the city is booked.« »Just how I thought,« Peli shook her head. »Oh well, I’ll get the mattress out for you. It’s not a real bed, because I will be sleeping in that, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll see if it fits my storage room so you two can have some privacy. I’m sure you’ll need that later.« Maia had to close her eyes and take a deep breath. She shouldn’t have told Peli that she and Din were a couple, because this would keep happening from now on. »Maia, you know the apartment, make yourself at home, you have to get ready.« »Looks like you were successful,« Din pointed to the bag that didn’t show any bit of the sparkling fabric inside of it. »Yes we were. Peli –« »Oh! One more thing,« Peli’s head popped out behind the doorframe that lead to the staircase to her apartment, having both Maia and Din turn their heads towards her. »I’m going to the festival too. Will probably stay for a while so if you two need a little privacy, I’ll be gone for a while.« She wiggled her nonexistent eyebrows and disappeared.

Right now, all Maia wished for was to travel back in time and keep her past self from telling Peli about her relationship as the mechanic seemed to think that these kinds of jokes were appropriate now. With red hot cheeks Maia turned back to Din and prayed that he wouldn’t ask what she had told the other woman. »What I was trying to say was that Peli negotiated the poor merchant’s head off. I suddenly have a feeling for what it must’ve felt back at the hotel when I manipulated the receptionist.« Din chuckled. She was certain there was a soft smile on his lips, she could hear it. »Go get ready, I’ll wait here.«

She stared into the black visor before her for just a second, fighting with herself whether she wanted to mention a touchy subject or to just let it go. This might be the only time she got to wear a dress and despite what had transpired on Glavis, she wanted him to see her while they were in private. She wanted to see his reaction, without the metal in between them. She knew it would probably just reopen the wound that he had suffered back on Glavis, but she wouldn’t forgive herself for not asking. »I thought you might come up there with me. In case I need your help,« she explained, taking another breath to collect her thoughts. »I want to see your reaction to the dress… without the helmet,« she finally confessed. She wanted to add that he could just say no, she would accept it, but the words got stuck in her throat. Din knew she wouldn’t force him. He tensed and she feared he would completely close off, but he nodded gently. »Alright.«

She took hold of his hand to lead him up the narrow staircase, through the kitchen and into the bathroom. In passing they witnessed Peli struggling to push a mattress into the small storage room to the left of the entrance, but the mechanic would handle this on her own hopefully. At least they would get a room for themselves… somewhat. As soon as they had reached the bathroom, Maia locked the door behind them and let the bag fall to the floor with a soft thud. Din just stood beside her, unsure what to do. His posture had changed again, helmet pointed downwards, looking at the ground rather than towards her. Only when her boots came into his field of view, the helmet rose towards her. She rested both of her hands on his shoulders and gently squeezed him. »It’s okay if you don’t want to,« she reminded him, but he leaned towards her, giving her the unmistakable sign it was fine for him.

When the helmet came off of his face, she saw how miserable he looked. The lines on his forehead seemed deeper than usual, like he had pulled faces all day. His eyes were closed, maybe he didn’t want her to see him like this. Or he didn’t want to see her reaction to his state. She gently cupped his face in her hands. He flinched upon contact, but his features softened as soon as he felt her thumbs caress his cheeks. Din must’ve felt miserable, having lost his child, his status, and also his support system – the family that had taken him in.

Her dress could wait a little longer. Din’s well-being was more important to Maia in this moment. »I’m sorry about your clan and your status,« she began. His eyes opened and she saw how blood-shot his eyes were. He was holding back tears, and it almost broke her heart. Was it the helmet? Was it still their fight? Was it her touch? »I might not have been the source or the trigger for all of this, but I still feel guilty about it. I don’t understand how they can just cast you out when there’s so little left. It doesn’t make sense to me, but this… isn’t my culture, how would I understand?« She furrowed her brows, watching as his eyes turned a little glossier. »You don’t have to feel guilty,« he softly replied, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears. »I knew what would happen if I took the helmet off and I did it of my own volition. I had hoped they would see that I had no other choice to save Grogu, but I was wrong.«

»Maybe my opinion as an outsider doesn’t matter too much, but to me you’re everything a Mandalorian should be. You are more than your armor and the Creed.« She continued moving her thumbs up and down his cheekbones in a soothing gesture, hoping it was something he could focus on. For her it helped, focusing on the sensation of his stubble on her skin rather than the tears in his eyes. She would start crying herself if she put too much thought into it. »You're strategic, you’re brave. You fight like you’ve never done anything else. I know you’re loyal and you’ll probably be until your last breath. You’re as strong as the Beskar that protects you, but you’re not cold-hearted. People that are lucky enough to get to know you know that you are caring. and gentle. and lovable.« The latter confession came as a surprise for her, as she had not realized what she was not so subtly telling him. But then again, she had told him before and he hadn’t picked up on it.

Tears welled in his eyes again and she feared she had insulted him once again, her own eyes responding by filling with tears. He rested one gloved hand on hers, leaning his face into her touch more. He closed his eyes for just a moment, savoring the sensation of her fingers on his skin. »Your opinion matters,« he let her know. »I’m honored that you think so highly of me.« There was a hint of color on his cheeks when he opened his eyes again. Gone was the sadness and grief, for just a moment, and she found the warmth in the deep brown eyes again. You have no idea how amazing you are, she thought to herself.

A rumble behind the door disrupted this precious moment that almost felt like Din was about to lean in and kiss her. She had not seen the sparkle in his eyes yet, but she had felt the gravitational pull towards his body. Peli was cussing one hallway away from them and it reminded Maia that she should get ready. »I better get dressed before Peli busts through the door to ask what is taking us so long.« She had surely registered Din coming into the bathroom too and would think the worst of her guests.

Maia walked over to the bag, taking off her boots in the process. »You’ll have to close your eyes for a bit. I don’t want you to see the dress before it’s on me.« She wouldn’t mind if he snuck a peek while she got undressed, she would feel tempted to do the same. Besides, he had seen a lot of her skin already. Taking her clothes off happened quite quickly and she managed to worm her way into the dress on her own just fine. It was like the dress was made specifically for her, molding itself against her body so she didn’t even have to worry about needing a bra underneath. With a few tugs she had wiggled the dress into place and could close the zipper. She had a first look in the mirror over Peli’s sink, and Maia was starstruck.

The dress sparkled even in the semi-shade she currently stood in. The dress was hugging her curves just right. The neckline was almost straight across, the fabric falling into subtle folds just in the middle of her cleavage, not showing too much of her chest but still just a bit. The straps fell down her shoulders and loosely hung at her upper arm. Judging by the way the fabric laid, this was intentional to have the straps off the shoulder. It was almost floor length on her, hiding her feet when she slightly bent one knee. Her waist looked tiny in this dress and all she could really say at her reflection was »wow.« Gone were the second guesses and negative thoughts she had about her body ever since she had been with Luke. She looked like a princess.

»Can I look?« Din asked, who was still in the room with Maia despite her somehow managing to forget him for a minute. She didn’t say anything because she was still stuck in awe. »I’m opening my eyes now,« he announced and looked at her. Still there was no reaction from her. She didn’t face him yet, so he got to see her profile for now. »Maia?« She finally turned around to him and there were tears in her eyes. »I’m sorry, I’ve never worn a dress as pretty as this. Or any dress, for that matter. I think I got a little stuck, I’ve never felt so beautiful.«

Din gave her a once-over and his mouth opened a little. He blinked once or twice before he regained his ability to speak. »You … are beautiful, cyar’ika. Like … ca’tra.« »What?« Another word in Mando’a? »The night sky. You sparkle like a million stars.« Din took a step closer towards her. »You’re breathtaking,« he softly told her. He gently caressed her arms and took a closer look. Now that they were face to face she could actually see just how well the fabric color matched with his Beskar. There was a moment where she felt just an inkling of sadness when he referred to her as the night sky. Somewhere deep down she remembered that her parents had referred to her as their twinkling star. It was hard to disagree with that nickname right now.

»Peli found it. It sparkled just like the armor of someone I happen to like, so I had to get it,« Maia explained, taking all of the subtle movements in his facial expression in. Din’s eyes were all over her. »It was a good choice,« he concluded when their eyes finally met. The brunette pulled his hands behind her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. She wanted some closeness and he was willing to grant her wish. His hands fell into place on her back while she could rest her hands on his chest armor. »I thought with all of the likely drunk people around I should make it obvious who I belong to. Otherwise you end up starting fights.« She leaned her head against his and sighed. Din closed his eyes and gently squeezed her torso.

»I’m not going to lie, I like the idea,« he said with a smirk, opening his eyes to look at her again. It felt so nice to lean against him, even if all she felt was the hard edges of his armor pushing into her ribs. She looked up at him. »I bought a necklace for the pendant. Would you help me with it?« »Of course, where is it?« She pointed to the same tote that had her dress inside, where remained a smaller bag with the necklace. »The closure is delicate, you might need to pull the gloves off,« she explained before his arms let go of her. His gloves were pulled off and he placed them by his helmet before he fished the thin necklace out of its bag. With it in one hand, he retrieved the mudhorn from his belt pouch and threaded the necklace through the ring at the tip of the horn.

»Turn around for me,« Din purred as he stepped back toward her. Maia’s heart dropped, but not in an uncomfortable way. How was her body so sensitive to everything he did? Rather than turning all the way back, however, she faced the mirror once more. Din stepped behind her and lifted the necklace over her head. Maia pulled her hair to the front, even if it was too short to be in the way. She got goosebumps as soon as the cold metal touched her skin, Din pulling the ends together behind her to close the tiny mechanism that would make the necklace stay on her. She watched his face, how focused he was on the task at hand. The metal was cold, but his hands were so warm whenever they accidentally touched her. It sent shivers down her spine. When the necklace was in place, Din’s fingers glided over her neck towards her shoulders, where they lingered for a moment. »Done.« He looked up into the mirror and blushed just a little when he found her watching him intently.

Maia smiled at him when his hands wandered to her waist again. It felt so natural to have him close like this, without the helmet on, hands on her all the time. With the color-coordinated outfits, it was very hard to deny that they looked absolutely cute together. »Is my tattoo visible through the fabric?« It was a concern of hers, the fabric was significantly lighter than her black robes, and judging by the transparency all of the other dresses had, she didn’t want to run around with a very obvious Empire sigil on her back. If it was in fact visible, they might have to stay here. It was too much effort to let it go to waste but she couldn’t force Din to have his hand on her back all evening. Even if the thought was tempting. His hands felt so good on her skin today. She didn’t know why, they just did.

He took a look and she saw his eyes wander further south than necessary. »It’s not visible,« he confirmed with a nod. Din took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his armor. The dress fit so well with the Beskar, despite it being far from similar in any regard besides the color. »You look amazing,« he told her again. They looked like they belonged together. She might not be in armor, but it was obvious she was his. The little mudhorn on her chest made it obvious.

»Are you ready to go?« Din asked, looking into the mirror, probably also thinking they looked absolutely gorgeous together. Maia nodded and leaned her head against his for the last time. Neither did she own any makeup, nor wanted to put any on, it would just be a waste. She walked over to his helmet and picked it up to carry it over to him. »Will I see you again later?« He laid his hands onto hers rather than taking the helmet. His thumbs caressed over her hands. »Of course.« And just when there would’ve been the perfect opportunity for them to kiss again, Peli banged on the door. »Should I be worried or impressed that you’re still in there?« the mechanic taunted through the door. Maia sighed and handed the helmet over. »I’ll keep the gloves off,« Din whispered before the helmet was back on his head, hiding his pretty face from her for the next hours. He went to unlock the door while Maia put on her boots.

»About damn time, I hope you’ve not made a mess in my bathroom,« Motto complained, looking around her room to find it suspiciously tidy besides the pile of black robes. Maia was leaned over, putting on the boots that arguably didn’t fit with the dress but she didn’t want to buy a pair of shoes she wouldn’t use after today. The dress was enough luxury. »Wow, now look at this,« the other woman whistled and Maia pushed past Din towards the mechanic. »You shouldn’t hide all of that underneath your clothes.« She would most definitely hide all of that after tonight if everyone suddenly commented on her body.

»Let’s go, the festival has already started,« Peli ushered them out of her bathroom, only now catching the glimpse of the uncovered hand that held Maia’s. »Ha, so you’re really not green!« she pointed at the two hands. If only the mechanic knew what a handsome face hid underneath the helmet. She would probably not shut up about it. A smirk crept up to Maia’s lips. She knew, and she didn’t mind if she would be the only person to know. »The dress was a good choice, Peli. He was speechless,« the brunette praised. »Yeah he better be, you look stunning.« Out they went, following the noise of the bazaar and the subtle roar of drums coming from somewhere further into the market. Every now and then, Din would softly squeeze his partner’s hand, and she would return the gesture.

The market was even fuller now, people crowding the streets, gathering around the little booths, talking over one another. Somewhere in the distance there was music. The alleys were covered in the blue tarps Maia had seen when she flew over Mos Eisley, the fabric allowing most alleys to be in the shade. Despite the sheer amount of souls walking about, Din’s mere presence made the sea of strangers part so he, Maia, and also Peli could walk around relatively freely. Of course there were looks and even some whispers around them, but all Maia focused on was Din’s warm hand and the fact that she felt absolutely beautiful. »I hope you’re hungry, because I am starving. Oh, wait, what about you Mando? I keep forgetting you don’t eat,« Peli interrupted the brunette’s small daydream about being alone with her partner. »I do eat, just not here,« Mando corrected, very well aware Peli knew that. »Don’t worry about me.« His helmet turned to Maia, whose eyes sparkled almost as much as her dress did when she looked at him. »You can have anything you want,« he told her with a nod.

Peli grinned and Maia assumed it was because Din was so willingly spending money for her. She faced the mechanic. »Just order something for me. I trust your taste in food.« Right away the older woman steered towards a certain booth that offered different kinds of food fresh off the grill. She ordered 3 skewers of meat; two for herself, one for Maia. »You want something to drink?« Din asked, leaning towards Maia a little. It made her shiver when his voice seemed to drop in tone out of nowhere. »Yes please,« she replied, and off the Mandalorian went. While he was gone, the girls got their food and retreated a little from the booth to make space for other guests. They walked towards a more open space, a small plaza where a stage had been set up. Live music played and Peli just so happened to spot an empty table they could stand beside. »Mos Eisley can be quite the shit hole, but the festivals are nice. You and Mando should come here around Boonta Eve.« »We’ll see if we have time to.«

Peli bit into the first skewer and her features scrunched up. »Whew, spicy. You better wait for Mando to return with the drinks.« Maia took a more careful approach, eyeing the vibrant orange coating on her skewer. The red particles in the sauce were probably the source of the spice. A sweet and downright mouth-watering scent came from the skewer and just as Din returned with the drinks, Maia took her first bite. There was a certain sweetness, but directly afterwards came a pang of spice and the brunette coughed a little. »Peli, what the –« she coughed. »Relax. Drink something, it’s not getting worse than this.« Din placed both cups of alcohol on the small table before resting his hand on the small of Maia’s back. »Are you ok?« He inquired, but she just nodded, grabbing one of the cups to wash the spice down. The liquid that ran down her throat was overly sweet but also had a noticeable amount of acidity that made the sting of the spice even worse. Numbness coated her tongue almost instantly.

»Are you trying to get me drunk, Mando?« she purred his way, very well aware there was a risk of Peli evesdropping on their playful banter. »What would that get me?« he responded, Maia turning her head towards him, one eyebrow raised. Did she have to tell him or did he know? A chuckle came from underneath the helmet and a warm hand found its place in between her shoulder blades, caressing her soft skin. Instantly her skin bumped up, electricity going through her body. Trying her hardest not to make her reaction too obvious, she occupied her mouth with more food and occasionally a sip of the alcohol. It was probably wine, or something similar to it. Maia leaned back into his touch ever so slightly, to feel more of his warm skin on hers.

»Would you look at that.« Peli motioned towards the two. »What a heartwarming sight. Princess Maia and her bodyguard.« Maia doubted she looked like an actual princess, but the connection to Din was hard to overlook when they had a color-coordinated outfit. There had been quite a few glances she had registered. In a way, they were a walking, living antithesis. There she stood, a woman in a sparkly dress, enjoying the festival like there were no worries in this world. And her companion, a Mandalorian, completely disguised, in full, unpainted Beskar armor and armed with an embarrassing amount of weapons. Apart from the hands he had so graciously freed of their gloves to touch her. To feel her and to allow her to feel him.

Truth be told: Maia wondered what the aliens around them whispered about. Perhaps they wondered if she was the princess of a far away world. Perhaps they theorized what the mudhorn on her necklace meant. Din’s tech probably had a translator integrated into his gear… somewhere. She assumed he knew what was being whispered around them. Was he grinning underneath that bucket on his head? With the skewer finished and Maia’s hunger satisfied for now, the brunette softly swayed to the music, her cup in hand, ever so often taking a sip. The alcohol was slowly working into her system, making her tipsy and a little more reactive to Din’s touches, too. The suns were setting, their descent only visible by the colored sky in between the blue tarps slowly going from light blue to orange. There was still time until the fireworks, but not too much.

Peli left the two soon thereafter, having emptied her mug and desperately needing to get a second one. The mechanic took away their trash and left Mando and Maia behind. She was nowhere near drunk, judging by how enthusiastically she could still walk through the crowds, loudly yelling if people were in her way. »I won’t carry her home,« Din grumbled, his hand snaking around Maia’s waist to pull her into him a little more. The brunette chuckled and hid her face halfway into her cup before she replied »of course not, because you already have to carry me.« She smirked and turned her head towards him, and so did his helmet. Din’s hand might have rested on the fabric rather than directly on her skin, but she could still make out his body heat through her dress. »Are you enjoying yourself?« he wanted to know. Maia nodded. »Feels good to be normal for once.« A sigh escaped her when she leaned more into him. »Not that I don't like being who I am. It’s just… were so busy. There’s always something to do, someone to find. Being here reminds me a little of when you showed me the sunset. It’s a short break from my routine. A moment to catch my breath in a turbulent life. What about you?«

»I understand. Sometimes it feels easier to just be normal.« Din’s hand gently squeezed her hip, making Maia almost gasp. Was he aware what he was doing? Her heart rate shot up instantly. »I usually don’t go to festivities like this,« he confessed, oblivious to what he was doing to his partner with his gentle touches. Or was he aware and wanted her to go a little crazy? »But I enjoy spending time with you, so I don’t mind.« She enjoyed being around him too. Especially if he displayed his affection out in the open. »Would be weird if you didn’t, I’m your girlfriend after all,« she finally said, emptying her cup to place it on the table before her. It felt weird to refer to herself as his girlfriend – partner felt more fitting. »We might have to find another place to watch the fireworks soon.«

Din was right. Besides the tarps that obstructed most of their view, the buildings were also limiting their vision down here. »We might be able to climb up onto the hangar roof back at Peli’s,« he theorized. They would be on their own there, which meant Maia might also get the kisses she had been yearning for. The wine slowly worked its magic and the brunette got a little courageous. »Or you carry me on one of your strong shoulders and we fly up there.« With one of his arms still around her, she turned around to fully face him, chest against chest. »We’ll find a way,« Din promised with a gentle nod.

She looked up into the visor and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her eyes sparkled almost as much as her dress did. »You’ve got all eyes on you,« Din softly stated, leaning the helmet forward until it rested against her forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment. She was aware of the stares but she didn’t mind. »If ‘all’ also contains your eyes, that’s fine for me. Let them stare, I’m all yours.« She was, for what she could say, drunk. But Din was receptive to it, allowing her to show her affection and returning it. »It’s hard to keep them off of you. Not that I’m trying to.« And while not many would realize what this gesture they shared meant, Maia knew what the headbutt stood for, he had explained it to her on their first visit here. It felt like that was ages ago. As heartwarming as this display of his affection was, out here in public, her heart craved something different. »Cyare?« »Yes?« She opened her eyes, staring into that visor. »I think we should go. I want to kiss you and I can’t do that here.«

»Alright. Peli can fend for herself.« Maia wasn’t looking forward to any kind of disturbance. She wanted to be alone with Din for the rest of the evening, perhaps even for the night. »She better.« They released from their hug, Din offering his hand for her to hold onto. And who would Maia be to not take his hand when it was the only part of his body she could feel at this moment? Same as before, the crowds separated as soon as they recognized the helmet as belonging to a Mandalorian. Maia walked in front of Din, so he had an eye on her and could make sure no one came too close to her. Maia, on the other hand, focused more on the few couples that hid in the shade of the alleys, kissing, and getting a little too comfortable out in public. There was a lot of bare skin she could see. Kisses, tight embraces, and an occasional halfway pulled up skirt, a hand on a thigh. For a moment she wondered if the festival just turned into a festival of love or if the merchants put something into the drinks. It would make sense, because she also wondered what it would feel like to feel Din’s hand on her thigh, squeezing her just as he had done with her hip.

The music got quieter and quieter the closer they came to the the hangar. The sound of the drums remained for the longest, like the city’s heartbeat. Maia had not realized how loud it had been at the festival with everyone talking and also the music. But now that they were approaching a quiet part of town, it was almost like the silence was suffocating her. It was still nothing like the silence in the facility, but her ears felt a little stuffed. The hangar appeared before them and as soon as they were close enough, they looked for a way to get up to the roof. It made sense that there wouldn’t be any on the outside of the building, though, so they went inside. Next to Maia’s ship there was something under a large tarp she hadn’t registered before. Despite her curiosity to see what hid beneath it, they had a more important task at hand.

»Check the apartment, I’ll see around here,« Din told her. As much as Maia didn’t want to let go of his hand, she knew it wouldn’t be for long. If they managed to reach the rooftops, she would finally get what she had been waiting for. She skipped up the stairs and spent maybe two minutes to look for a hatch in the roof of any of the rooms, to no avail. At least Peli wasn’t back yet and they had a little more time to themselves. With more careful steps she walked back down the narrow staircase to reunite with her partner. »Nothing up there,« she let him know with a soft head shake. It didn’t matter, because he had found a little ledge and a ladder, steel wire bolted into the sand stone to make steps. »Can you climb in your dress? You can change if you want to.«

There was no time to change, besides, her shoes would be the problem for climbing, not the dress. »I’m fine. The boots won’t be an issue but … just… you climb first.« She didn’t need him to be able to look underneath the skirt right now. Not that he hadn’t seen her legs last night, but she felt a little awkward about it right now. They were up on the roof just in time to see the last bit of orange on the horizon as both suns had already set. Din stood by a half-wall atop the roof which was probably up here so no one would fall to their death. Maia walked over to him to hold his hand, causing him to take the helmet off one-handed. As soon as his face was freed, he gave her a warm smile. »Hey,« he greeted her as if he hadn’t been around. He placed the helmet on the small wall before using his free hand to cup her cheek.

There he was, so close to her, and finally she was allowed to look at this pretty face again. How she loved to look into these dark brown eyes. A sparkle told her what would happen next, and sure enough, Din leaned in, closing his eyes, placing a soft kiss onto her lips. Maia’s remaining hand ran from his jaw into the hair on the back of his head, pulled him in even closer, too desperate for affection to let him off so easily. They separated just a little, just enough so Maia could whisper a »hey« back onto his lips. She gave him a soft peck afterwards. Hoping that the fireworks would announce their presence without the two having to pay too much attention, she rather focused on all the other things she wanted to get out.

She leaned back a little, waiting for him to open his eyes just how she had done. »I have to thank you for so much, cyare. I’m not only talking about allowing me to feel a little normal for a few hours today, you’ve done so much more for me. I wish I knew how to show my gratitude.« Din had changed so much since they had run into each other on Nevarro. Sure, he was still the same person, but she had gotten to know a completely new side of him, a side that probably only very few knew. Din smiled softly, laying both hands on her waist and gently pulling her in. Again she felt bumps form on her skin. His touch was magical, but so could be hers. Maia cupped his face in both of her hands now that she could. »Same here,« Din nodded. He gave her another kiss, this time a little gentler. She wasn’t pulling him into her this time around, either. »You are everything to me, cyar’ika,« he confessed after the kiss.

Din didn’t intend it, but her facial expression went from confusion to … it almost looked like hurt. Tears welled in her eyes, Maia was unsure what he was trying to tell her here. She was his everything? It was hard to believe, but looking into his eyes, all she found was sincerity. Maybe a little insecurity, but she knew Din rarely knew how to talk about his feelings. Was this what she had been waiting for? »Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum,« he mumbled and again he confused her with Mando’a. Given the context this probably meant something very important to her; and also important to him if he had to use the language of his heart to say it. »Say that again,« she softly begged him.

»I love you, Maia.« Din told her in Basic this time around, and now she knew for sure. It felt like her heart was about to bust out of her ribcage. It wouldn’t go very far as his chest armor was right against her. Din continued. »I know I’m not easy at times; I’m stubborn and I struggle to vocalize my feelings. But right now I mean it. I love you and you mean everything to me.« The brunette was unable to get any kind of reply out, she just practically jumped towards him and buried her face in his cape. All Din could do was hold her while she cried a little into the dark fabric. One of his arms remained at her waist, but the other held her by the shoulder, softly stroking her skin. »Cyar’ika,« he whispered into her hair, placing another kiss on the brown strands until she could look up at him. The guilt of looking miserable right now overcame her, but all she could find in his face was pure love. She hadn’t even gotten any kind of reaction out yet.

Fearing Din would misinterpret her little outburst, she took a deep breath. She closed her eyes once more and leaned her face against his, nuzzling into his cheek to non-verbally tell him everything was fine. »Din, why did you take so long to say that?« she asked him with the most idiotic grin on her lips. »I love you too and I’ve been trying to tell you since we’ve reunited,« she let him know, opening her eyes to see him grinning like a lovesick fool himself. Had he not gotten the hints? »Because I’m an idiot who feared you wouldn't feel the same. I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.« With a head shake, she suffocated this thought of his right away. »No, you said it when it felt right. It’s fine.«

What she wanted to be a kiss to seal their little confessions was interrupted by the sudden bang of fireworks in the distance. As if it had been planned to happen just now, the sky lit up in the most beautiful colors. They watched the show in silence, Maia standing next to Din, one arm behind his back, and he did the same. Her head was leaned against his shoulder, similarly to how they had sat by the campfire on their last visit. She and Din were a couple. He loved her. Maia knew she would stay with Din, whatever may come, adapt more to his way of living. They had been through so much despite knowing another so shortly, and it just felt right. They were bound together, both by the Force, call it fate, and now by love as well. She carried his clan symbol around her neck, she might one day be part of his clan officially. Maybe all of this was a sign she should leave her old life behind.

»You know…« Maia interrupted the silence that had covered the city after this short showcase of colors and shapes of light. »You might be an idiot, but you’re my idiot, cyare.« She turned around so she could give him another kiss. A hum was Din’s first response, smiling into the kiss. »I am, and you won’t get rid of me.« Was that a threat or a promise? »Who would want that, handsome? Besides, you’re a bounty hunter and would terrorize half of the galaxy to get me back,« she teased him. Seriously, why would she ever try to run from him? Laughter erupted from Din’s throat, pushing the edges of his armor into Maia’s chest. »Sounds like me,« he decided. With her head again resting against his shoulder, Maia looked up at him with dreamy eyes, blinking slower. »I’m saving both of us the trouble.« The alcohol was slowly making her tired, perhaps she was also feeling a little more needy after Din’s confession. Cuddling up into bed sounded more tempting than standing up here. »I think we should go downstairs, you look tired,« he let her know, running his fingers through her hair to tuck it behind her ear. »That’s because I am, but I don’t want this moment to end,« she whispered. Leaning forward to place a kiss onto her forehead, Din hummed in response. »I know,« he mumbled against her skin. Without much of a reaction, Maia sighed and let go of him to walk over to his helmet. She lifted the bucket off the wall and turned it so she could look into that visor. Debating whether it was insensitive to just put it on for a moment, she stared into the black screen. It wasn’t her helmet. »Let’s go,« she announced, more to herself than to Din, to let go of the thought.

With furrowed brows, Din looked at her. »Do you want to wear it, cyar’ika?« He approached her, taking the helmet into his hands. She didn’t even have to reply, somehow he just knew. »There’s nothing bad happening if you do, trust me.« Hesitantly she nodded and Din hovered the helmet over her head, slowly lowering it. Maia kept her eyes closed until she felt the helmet top bump into her scalp. Before anything else, the sound of her breath registered. She practically breathed against a window and she felt and heard it. Was it odd to mention that the helmet smelled like him, too? Probably. She slowly opened her eyes, not sure what to expect, but she was greeted with darkness. That… was not supposed to happen, right?

As soon as the helmet had registered that it was on a head, however, the head up display lit up and loaded the night vision. She saw Din in front of her in a green glow. Everything was green around her, she found when she rotated her head a little. It was unusual to see the yellow and orange surroundings suddenly in all the same shade of green. Even her dress looked odd, now the same color as her skin and significantly less sparkly. It was interesting, but a completely new experience for her. It was a lot at once.

»So that’s how –« she began to speak, but startled by the sound of her own voice she stopped. The modulator made Din’s voice sound threatening, whereas hers just sounded… weird in her ears. But when had she ever heard a recording of her own voice? She chuckled and shook her head, Din also grinning opposite of her. »I wanted to say ‘So that’s how you see me the whole time?’ My voice sounds so weird.« »All green?« Maia nodded. »That’s the night vision, it activates when there’s it too little natural light.« He looked up into the night sky. »There’s a lot of clouds tonight.« When his head turned back to her, one of his eyebrows rose. She was in his signature pose: One knee slightly bent, both hands at her hips. »There’s a bounty on you. I can take you in warm, or I can take you in cold.«

She must’ve looked absolutely ridiculous. In a sparkling dress, her chest very on display, no armor on her body, and an ill-fitted helmet on her head. All Din could do was absolutely lose it for a second. He regained composure only after Maia had started tapping her foot, waiting for him to be done. In reality her heart was about to explode when she heard him laugh, grinning ear to ear herself. How could she not when his laughter sounded more beautiful than the music she had listened to earlier on the plaza? »Fine, I surrender,« Din finally gave in, raising his hands. Still grinning underneath the helmet, she came closer, intertwining her fingers with his, effectively ‘capturing’ him. She came closer, leaning against his chest. »You’ve been captured by the legendary bounty hunter only known as mesh’la.« With his full peripheral vision usable for once without the helmet, Din enjoyed the view of Maia’s cleavage which she had so graciously pressed against him. He didn’t even try to be secretive about it, either.

»Such a shame, I’m powerless against you, oh legendary mesh’la,« he joined their little play. Maia was very well aware this wasn’t how bounty hunting worked and Din would’ve told her as such, had he not realized she just wanted to have some fun. »I like you, captive,« she told him after a few pronounced breaths against the cold Beskar before her. »What have you done to have such a high bounty on you, huh, pretty? Seduced the wrong woman, perhaps?« The appeal of the helmet was starting to show itself. She was flirting with him very heavily, and it didn’t bother her at all. Her face was hidden so he couldn’t see how much she was blushing. Din almost broke when she called him pretty, but she had to respect his efforts to stay in his role. »Got me. I would show you exactly what I did, but Mandalorians don’t take their helmets off.« Once again he cocked an eyebrow, but this time it seemed more playful. Was he flirting? Was she? Were they flirting? His reaction came as a surprise for sure, poor Maia staring at him behind the black visor for a moment. The temperature rose under the Beskar. »Let’s make a deal.« She had something on her mind that he could offer. He had been driving her mad with his touches all day, and she wanted to return the favor. »The helmet for your clothes.«

The only reason she even dared to say this was because her face was hidden. This was her way of payback, somehow. For all the touches that had driven her wild today. The alcohol and all the endorphins in her blood made her wish for him to just pin her against a wall and kiss her like the world ended tomorrow. »My clothes?« Din’s head tilted sideways. »That seems a little unfair, mesh’la. Me taking everything off and I just get to see your face.« Maybe he realized what he had practically promised her just now. With a look in both directions, Din focused on her again. »Besides, we should go downstairs for that.« Maia couldn’t keep up the facade any longer. She let go of his hands and lifted the helmet off of her head. The cooler night air hit her face and she was certain her cheeks were blushed quite heavily. »You’re right, it’s not particularly fair for you.« She smiled at him when she gave him the helmet. »But… I don’t want to remind you that you kind of owe me after you caught me in a bathtub… but you caught me in a bathtub.« All jokes aside, she was curious. That little glimpse of his lower belly wasn’t enough, and after everything tonight she wanted to touch him.

»Fair enough, you haven’t had the chance yet to ambush me while I’m taking a bath,« he nodded. Din put the helmet back on and looked at her through the visor. His hands rested on her waist once more and she smiled. »Your hands are to blame,« she explained, taking his hands off of her body so she could walk over to the ladder. She turned around so she could descend the first steps. »I don’t know why it is so extreme today. But you touch me and… my thoughts run wild.« Her gaze unfocused for a moment, images of his hand on her thigh flashing in her mind. She looked over to him and gave him a grin before her head disappeared behind the ledge.

»Do you want me to stop touching you, then?« she heard Din tease from up top, and as much as she wanted to reply, a rather loud ‘don’t you dare!’ would only call for attention of others that might have been close. The way into Peli’s apartment was short, at least, and they’d have their full privacy here. Maia had a good look at the small storage room which just barely fit the mattress Peli had dragged in there earlier today. There were some shelves starting about half a meter above the ground with just enough space left that Din could put his armor parts up there. »Can the door be closed?« he asked as soon as he had found himself next to the brunette. Reaching around the door frame, Maia found a control panel inside the small chamber. »Not sure I want to know why Peli’s storage can be closed from the inside but we can.« Maia started taking her boots off, Din seemingly just looking at her while she was bent over for a moment.

When she was on her feet, Maia walked over to Din, poking her index into his chest plate. »This damn metal has been in my way all day,« she complained, instantly getting to work to remove his pauldrons. It was the easiest thing for her to reach, and with her being in practically nothing besides her dress, Din definitely could use a little help. She had seen how his armor had been put on, so taking it off should work the same way. When his shoulders were free of the metal, she squeezed them to feel at least a little of the muscles hidden underneath. She had felt them last night, cuddled into him while they slept. Frankly, she was looking forward to spending another night with him, in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. Piece by piece Din’s armor got taken off, and the flak vest followed. Din enveloped Maia in a hug when the vest was off, leaning his head against hers. Maia of course wrapped her arms around him and sighed. »Much better,« she purred, closing her eyes to savor the moment. »I could get used to this,« Din hummed. »The hug or me helping you with the armor?« »Both.« She felt one of his hands travel up her back until his finger tips grazed her skin. »I enjoy touching you,« he mumbled. Maia let out a sigh and nodded, further nuzzling into his jacket. »You’re so gentle.« »Is it too much?« »No, it’s perfect. But I want to touch you too.«

Din took the hint and took more off. Boots, the jacket and his pants found their rightful spot next to the armor until he was in front of his partner again. »Happy now?«

Maia smiled at him and nodded. Her hands were on his shirt, his body heat sending more shivers through her body. Everything about him was driving her heart rate up today, desperate to touch him and to be touched. Her right hand snaked underneath the fabric by the neckline, feeling his shoulder muscles underneath her finger tips. Feeling his heat even more now, she practically melted against his chest, her left hand also gliding underneath his shirt just from the hem at his waist. Din felt her lips at the side of his neck, kisses upon kisses traveling along his jawline and down to his pulse point. His groan vibrated against her lips. She knew Din was sensitive to touches to his face, but learning that his neck was sensitive as well delighted her. »I would only be happier if we had the same cozy bed we had last night,« she told him in between kisses. »Maybe when the festival is over.«

With a very gentle hand did Din pull Maia off of him. He gave her an apologetic look, only pulling her away from him to take the shirt off that had only been in the way anyway. There he was, in all of his glory. Maia got to see his upper body and the brunette was a little overwhelmed. Scars decorated his tan body, she saw the curve of muscles cast subtle shadows on his skin. His skin was a lot darker than hers, it was so obvious with her hand on him. Her index traveled along his body, following every scar she found on her descent from his shoulder down his chest. »You have so many scars,« she softly said. She didn’t mean to insult him, of course. »I have. I’ve been through a lot and it’s showing.« Would Mandalorians consider scars to be beautiful, in a way? Their conversation on Glavis came to mind. Din had said her scars were a testament to what she had survived. And that her body still deserved worship.

»Do you need help with your dress?« His question came so out of nowhere that she halted her movements just when her fingers had reached the waistband of his underwear. Technically he had seen more of her than he would now, but then again, he would see her chest, and all the changes she had gone through due to Luke’s rigorous training. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that one, Din loved her, and two, that he could see a lot of the changes already, the dress wasn’t hiding too much. Even her arms and shoulders had become a lot wider. He slowly walked behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders and let them travel down to her zipper. »Can I see more of you, cyar’ika?« he purred into her ear, leaning forward. His voice made her shudder. »Of course, cyare,« Maia said after she swallowed the lump in her throat.

You want this. You want him to love all of you.

She heard the zipper open and felt the tension on her ribcage leave with every bit of movement from his hand. As soon as the zipper was completely down, Din pulled the sparkly fabric over her head and as soon as it was tossed into the same corner as his shirt had landed, he wrapped both arms around her from the back. Now it was his turn to kiss along her shoulders and neck, just like she had done with him. Of course it felt good, the subtle scratch his beard left on her skin in combination with his soft lips. One of her hands was tangled in his hair, the other rested on one of his arms. His hands laid in her waist, lower arms crossed over her midsection. »What are you doing to me?« Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. »I can’t help it,« he tried to respond in a whisper, but what came out sounded more like a growl. »I have this urge to constantly be close to you. I don’t know why, it’s unusual for me to be so needy.«

That confession sent a shockwave through her body, down her spine and right into her core. Was it the kisses, the sudden skin to skin contact, or the little groans she heard come from him? Din was getting so into it, his breath had become more noticeable. Her heart rate increased just because she was so close to him now, allowed to feel everything of him if she wanted to. When Maia turned her head to look at him, only then did she realize that her own breath had become louder. The passionate attack on her neck paused when Din returned her gaze. »Mesh’la, you’re driving me insane. In the best way possible.« Just now she felt one of his hands leave her waist, traveling up her body towards her chest. Another shiver went through her. If Din kept doing whatever he did to her, she would lose her mind. Her heart raced underneath his finger tips, she was getting dizzy. »You’re driving me mad with how much I want you to…« her breath hitched when his thumb had reached the curve of her breast. His eyes asked for permission to proceed, and he received the smalled nod from her. »Touch me.«

And he did. Just at the same time as she felt his finger graze her nipple, he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, muffling both moans that sat in their throats. She thanked the stars that he was holding onto her, because it felt like Maia’s knees would give out any second, the tension in her core turning unpleasant. Din palmed her breast for just a moment, shivering himself when her hand traveled from his hair down to his face.

He finally let go of her, walking around her to get a better look at her body. He didn’t do it in secret either, he very openly scanned her when he stood before her, one hand on her waist. Technically he had looked at her with the same hungry eyes earlier, but this time Maia felt a little uncomfortable and tilted her head. Her insecurities got the best of her. »Do you still think I’m beautiful?« His eyes shot up to her eyes, brows furrowed. »Of course, what makes you think anything that I told you changed?« »Because I’ve changed. I’ve put on weight ever since we’ve separated.«

»Come here,« Din pulled her close, chest against chest, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her face. Maia looked into his eyes, both hands on his chest, feeling his heart pump against his ribs. »You’re beautiful, no matter what. You’ve seen yourself in that dress and felt beautiful. What is going on in that pretty head of yours?« »Do you not think I look less feminine with all the muscle I got?« He shook his head. »You need that muscle, mesh’la. It’s dangerous out there, especially when you’re with me, and you need to be strong. If anything I actually prefer to see you like this.« he kissed her forehead.

»If you feel uncomfortable when I look at you, I’ll stop,« he added. It wasn’t that easy for her. »I know you’d never hurt me but… being inspected feels uncomfortable. It reminds me of my past and… I don’t know if I’ve repressed anything that will come up again.« She leaned into him, slowly feeling the drag of the alcohol and also his presence making her really tired. »I just have to get used to it. I enjoy looking at you too, so I get it.« She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. »I love you,« Din whispered. »I love you too.« He rotated his head toward her, burying his face in her hair and closing his eyes for a moment. »Do you want to lie down?« Did he feel the weight of her practically hanging off of him? »Can you read minds?« she smiled up at him, bumped the tip of her nose against his. »I can barely stand any more.«

That was enough for Din to change location with her, over to the storage rather than standing in the little living room in front. They laid down on the bed, Maia instantly by his side to feel his body heat. Din turned around one last time to closed the door before wrapping his arms around her. »Is it unusual for you to be seen, too?« she asked him in the darkness of the storage room. After the door was shut, they laid in complete darkness. »It is. But it’s okay.« With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, Maia made him roll him onto his back so she could halfway lay on his chest. »If I’m doing things too quickly or crossing a line, tell me. I’m new to this relationship-thing and I don’t want to overwhelm you,« Din reminded her. Maia sighed. »Most of this feels new to me, too. The last relationship I had was when I was maybe 17. I didn’t have any time for a partner. Nor any interest. I had to survive.« and find you.

She had looked for him for so long. How long had it been since she had first witnessed the man with the helmet on in her mind? Almost 15 years? And Din had been an adult even then, even if he had been significantly less reserved and silent. »Din?« »Yes?« »How old are you?« Din, who had been running his fingers along her shoulder, stopped and turned his face towards her. Was he shocked that she didn’t know? Was he surprised that she just now remembered to ask? »I’m 40,« he grumbled. She tried so hard to not react in any way, but a smirk crept up to her lips. In pitch black darkness it probably didn’t matter if her face showed her emotion. »Old fart,« she finally said. Din scoffed, but she kissed him gently, which he received with a little hum. »I love you regardless,« she promised. She really didn’t care too much.

»You’re the first woman I have these kinds of feeling for. And you might be the only one.« She nuzzled into his face. The thought of being the only woman he would ever love felt special, of course it did. »I want you to know that I did some things in my past that I’m not proud of. I was a mercenary for a while and treated a lot of people unfairly. Maybe the others I worked with influenced me, I don’t know. I made up my mind about being more honorable and I left the group to become part of the bounty hunters.« Why did he tell her now? Stars, what had she done that she wasn’t proud of? A lot. »Do you think about your past often?« she asked him. »Do you feel guilty about it?« »Sometimes I do. I think everyone isn’t proud about some things in their life. And I would do things differently today.« He caressed her back and took a deeper breath. »I’ve been alone for such a long time. After my parents had passed, there was only the Creed and the Mandalorians.« He sighed. »I’d never thought I’d have a foundling. Nor a beautiful woman by my side. And now you’re here with me and it feels better than anything I could’ve dreamed of.«

Maybe Maia knew why she and Din were connected. They had a shared fate. Taken from their parents one way or another, forced to grow up in a society so different from theirs. He was the child that Mandalore had gained – in a way; while she was the child that Mandalore lost a few years later. They were the same, but yet so fundamentally different. Din had been what she had needed all this time. Someone who could show her what family felt like, who could teach her what her parents couldn’t. Someone who would actually protect her from harm and made sure she felt loved. He would feel her love too. Din had been deprived of touch for who knows how long, and there she was. Someone who was willing to be close to him, regardless of if she could see him. She could read him well enough, even with the helmet on.

Maia nuzzled further into him and spoke against his skin. »I’ve never thought I could find out anything about my past. That it would haunt me until my last breath. Then I found you and I wanted to look ahead rather than live in the past. It was fine for me to give it up, because I wanted you. The choice was mine, become a Jedi-Master or leave to be with you. I knew Luke would take on Grogu and I was sure you needed me. Or I hoped you would. I came back to you and suddenly I had both. The outlook of a future with you, and part of my past. My name.« She raised her head to place a kiss onto his chin. »It won’t be easy for us. A Mandalorian and a somewhat-Jedi-somewhat-Mandalorian. No one will ever take me seriously.« He grumbled, but she shut him up with a kiss before he could get a word out. »I’ve thought about something. Maybe it’s time to leave ‘Maia’ behind me. If I stay with you I should start respecting your culture. And mine. And the first step should be honoring the name my parents gave me.«

»If that’s your choice, cyar’ika. You want me to call you Arana, then?« It sounded so nice when he said it. »You can call me whatever you want at the end of the day, but… yes.« »In that case,« he pulled her in and gave her a kiss. »I love you, Arana. I know things won’t be easy and you would probably have avoided a lot of chaos had you stayed with Luke,« he swallowed. »but I’m glad you chose me. I wouldn’t have been able to forget you any way. And I would’ve missed you. I missed you as soon as you had turned your back on Tatooine.« »I like how my name sounds out of your mouth. I missed you too. Your gentle nature that you hide underneath the metal and the muscle.« Din chuckled, probably thinking she was lying. But he was. A big old softie underneath his armor.

There was a moment of silence before Maia asked about something that had been on her mind for a while now. »Can we talk about Glavis for a second?» »If you want to.« »I feel really bad about threatening to just leave you behind.« Din hummed, not sure what to say. What would he have said? She knew she had hurt his feelings. »You can be honest, I hurt you. I can take it.« »It didn’t feel too nice to hear it. But we both behaved like idiots. I’m sorry as well.« »I forgive you if you forgive me.« »I do.« they sealed the deal with a soft kiss. When she laid back down onto his chest, Din sighed and wrapped his arms around her, one hand caressing her arm.

»You know where Grogu is, right?« She nodded slowly. »Unless Luke has changed his plans in the last… 72 hours, then yes, I know where they are. And you will go there if I tell you.« Of course, Maia didn’t want to be harsh towards him. Din missed the little one, and in a way she understood. »I know I shouldn’t,« he mumbled. »Similar to you, I can’t forget him. I want to see that he is okay. Thought bounty hunting would distract me, but it didn’t. I want to give him the present I have, that’s all. Maybe if I see him one more time I will feel better about this.» »You know you’re not supposed to,« she reminded him, biting her lip when his hand stopped caressing her. She sighed, their communication skills really needed work. »I can’t stop you, only make sure you don’t cause any trouble on the way there. Because I’m not leaving your side.« Maia’s heart was heavy. She knew Din would just face heartbreak when Grogu didn’t want to come back with them. If Luke even let them see the child this soon. »Can we at least get you to train with the Darksaber before? I’m almost certain we will run straight into another mess and I don’t want you to lose a limb this time around. You can also teach me something in return. Negotiating, for example. Or you teach me some words in Mando’a.«

»Alright,« Din gave up. Her hand snaked behind his neck, her finger tips running into the hair at the back of his head. »I know you worry about him. He’s okay, I am sure of it. I just don’t want you lying here with a heavy heart, cyare. Everything will turn out fine.« »I hope so. Good night, Arana.« »Good night, my love,« she hummed and raised her hip so she could lie on him completely, where she would stay for the entire night.

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