akunaa

[akunaa]

              𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙷𝙰𝙳  𝙳𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙶𝙴𝙳  𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼  𝙸𝚃𝚂  𝙼𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙴  𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈 with almost comical abruptness, akuna maintained his composure. years of training had instilled in him a fundamental truth: adaptability was not an innate instinct, but a skill whetted through repetition and a conscious suppression of sentiment. survivors of the purge were no novelty; they had become a familiar category in the broader scope of his duties.  denvik had seen to that, much to bode’s private, ever-festering frustration; it had become his responsibility to manage these fragile remnants, to refine his approach to each encounter, shaping his noxious role within the empire’s intelligence apparatus.

it was a specialization cultivated against his will, a task he neither enjoyed nor sought, yet one that had proven invaluable in honing his expertise as an operative. . . granted, those prior operations hadn’t involved three — or was it four? — glasses of substandard whiskey, but in essence, not entirely unlike previous operations.

tonight’s divergence lay not in its form, but in its content: face, name, environmental parameters—and, more crucially, in the unsettling absence of preparatory intelligence.  the absence of data was always more dangerous than the presence of an active threat.

moreover, in prior assignments, denvik had at least ensured one measure of psychological insulation: his targets had been unfamiliar, figures too aged or too young to place the knight he once was within the halls of the temple. while that anonymity, albeit meager, had been a mercy, it now prompted a new question: had tano ever seen him before?  their paths had never explicitly crossed during the waning days of the clone war, but memory was a fickle thing, and ahsoka tano was not a name easily forgotten.

the possibility of recognition dug beneath his skin, squirming toward inevitability.  a cognitive bias, perhaps. or a warning.

❝i’ve got one rule when it comes to places like this: eat what’s hot, drink what’s clean, and don’t ask too many questions.❞  bode flashed her a toothy grin, deciding to roll with the punches, and gestured to the empty seat beside him.  ❝but since you asked, stay away from the gizka specials.  had a friend lose a week’s worth of pay to a bad slider.❞

yet even as he spoke, part of bode’s mind was elsewhere, turning over a far more perplexing matter.  ahsoka tano’s presence here was not only improbable; it defied reason.  no place in the galaxy was more perilous for a jedi than the very heart of the empire’s dominion, the very cradle of the regime that had brought their order to ruin.  a fugitive jedi choosing the one jurisdiction where detection was to court annihilation.  the logic did not align. unless. . .

              ❝so, you passing through, or should i start getting nervous?❞  bode leaned back just a bit as the bartender swapped his empty glass with something he recognized as less mind-altering.  ❝’cause if you’re sticking close to me, either you know something i don’t. . . or you’re planning to.❞

There had been a time when seedy bars were some fascinating novelty. Overwhelming in their sights and sounds and the underlying chaos permeating from the pulses of the closely crammed bodies. It had been a long time since she'd been a Padawan trailing after her master or Plo Koon, investigating the various ongoings far beneath the comfort of the Jedi Temple.

Those missions had been few and far between regardless. The war's demands leaving no time for traditional missions for the Order's youngest members.

Now? She's used to rise in temperature in rooms over-occupied and barely regulated. A din of music and voices reverberating through her montrals. Exactly just how much of the galaxy flows and operates over drinks beneath dim lights and neon.

Coruscant was the heart of it all.

Ahsoka avoided the planet she'd called home for the majority of her childhood. Even here, miles beneath the ecumenopolis' surface that saw sunlight, she could still feel the press of the dark side from the remnants of the Jedi Temple. No longer subtle in its aura and pervasive enough to stir anxieties within her she knows must remain under her control if she wants to avoid the notice of its masters and perpetrators.

Besides, she's here on business.

A few hours prior, she'd been several levels lower, slipping encrypted intel into a designated dead drop for the Martez sisters. A small, personal assignment compared to her larger purpose for returning to the Republic Imperial capital. Saw Gerrera was...not exactly an old friend but certainly an old ally. And allies were few and far between, trusted ones even more so. Over the years, she's learned that Saw could be...unpredictable, his methods increasingly hostile. But his cause was just (in its ends if not its means) and Ahsoka wasn't in any position to be picking and choosing allies based on her own morals and misgivings.

So here she was sent, to act as intermediary in a dingy cantina on the last planet in the galaxy she wanted to be on...beside a man whose face she couldn't quite place but whose features gnawed at her memories like raxshir cubs with a bone.

"I can believe that. You seem like the type," she said with a faint smirk, waving the Barabel bartender down for a drink. Ahsoka would love nothing more than to make contact, skip town, be rid of the familiarity plaguing her mind. But not only would it raise suspicion to enter a place like this and not drink (a choice that would surely run counter to her and her contact's best interests), the Force itself seems to want her here. With a jerk of her head towards the bartender-- "Any recommendations?"

[akunaa]

probably should've mentioned it's that time of year again, in which my family gets together for family reunion(s). i always, always get super stressed during this time bc of the chaos that is my large family—like to the point of losing sleep lol—so i've been insanely MIA as a result!! very sorry for the radio silence, hope to get back on schedule soon, across all my blogs!!

[akunaa]

              ❝𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙴𝚁  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝙰  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆,  𝙷𝚄𝙷?❞ akuna tilted his head, that half-cocked smirk sliding just far enough into flirtation to blur the line.  all casual-like to test the waters, and with plenty edge to make it interesting.  ❝you make dodging death sound like a date night.❞

and to his credit, cal kestis was not wrong. bode could see that for himself, through the narrow crevices of their shelter, gaps in the rock wall that allowed shafts of sunlight to cut through the otherwise oppressive gloom.  sixty meters beyond the refuge where they hid, a detachment of thirty or so stormtroopers seemed caught in an almost absurd struggle with the planet’s native fauna.

at some point, an enraged mogu had inserted itself into the scene with singular enthusiasm, its massive form thrashing through the underbrush, reducing military formation and cohesion to mere abstract concepts.  not long after, two packs of gorgers, drawn by the commotion and the scent of blood, had descended upon the troopers with what could only be opportunistic cooperation. even among predators, hunger could create alliances. further into the distance, several spikers careened down koboh’s uneven terrain, propelled less by purpose than momentum, before colliding with a purge trooper. then another. of the two armored figures struck, only one rose again. good.

as bode watched, he took another bite.  the flavor registered in distinct phases: first, the tartness of meiloorun fruit cutting through the neutral bulk of the protein base, then the occasional crunch of koja nuts, adding texture to an otherwise monotonous blend.  a faint, creamy aftertaste lingered at the back of his tongue, a remnant of what was likely powdered bantha milk, a cheap protein isolate added more for utility than taste. he chewed thoughtfully.

in another life, cooking had been a form of expression, a way of communicating care, a silent vow made over the stove. it had been his language of love before the universe had swept him into darker paths.  in those days, well before imperial entanglements and intelligence reports, he made promises sealed not in blood or code but in meals shared beside a sunlit window.  along with tayala’s gentle smile, her joy upon seeing his ambition to cook for her every day. . .  that life felt centuries away now, orbiting a different star.  the closest thing he had now was prepping for a dehydrated field ration or pre-prepared meal pack, all with very little attention to flavor, only function.

still, old habits endured.  condensed nerf milk might offset the meiloorun’s acidic zip and serve as an emulsifier to bind the texture, something greez might appreciate, especially if it provided kestis more calories to burn.

❝you really don’t scare easy, do you?❞ bode asked suddenly—and maybe a touch too softly.  he scarfed down another mouthful of the bar, then cleared his throat, the remnants of his reflection already tucked safely behind dark eyes.   ❝not sure if that’s reckless. . . or impressive.❞

Cal Kestis was not one for sharing food, and yet he couldn’t help but grin when Bode took the offering. He could sooner count his own freckles than understand why he had such an easy time giving Bode one of the bars Greez had supplied. Bracca had taught him to guard his food ferociously, and his struggles in the immediate aftermath of the Mantis crew going their separate ways had only cemented this. Merrin had previously been the only one he’d share with, and that was likely to do with her own post-genocide life. Easier to share with others who understood the importance. Even the twins knew better than to try for whatever he kept on him during missions, yet here he was offering these things to Bode and feeling elated when the bar was accepted.

Yet another thing to not look at too deeply, Cal thought to himself as he grabbed some dried fruit and absentmindedly continued to graze on the snacks.

The cave itself was rather beautiful. He could feel BD constantly shifting on his shoulder, trying to catalogue all the different fungi and rock formations without straying. This was meant to be a temporary stop as they waited for the opposing patrols to either pass, or stop and fight and THEN pass them by. Safe enough to obey Greez, volatile enough to not try exploring further.

You’re lucky you’re good. His brows furrowed at the comment, confusion evident on his face. Cal had always made a point to allow surface level thoughts and feelings be openly read in his expressions but his actual deeper mentality kept hidden to all but a very select few, having learned the hard way more than once what wearing his heart on his sleeve could do, but with the taller (bigger, and no Cal didn’t think about Bode being able to toss him around if he let him. Not at all) man next to him he found himself exposed and uncaring about hiding much.

If Saw were here he’d be lecturing him on not trusting anyone. Cal felt grateful more than ever for the distance at this moment.

“If by different you mean not willing to let Greez corner me with five servings of food the next time I see him, then sure.” Cal tilted his head at Bode, unaware that he looked a bit like a puzzled Bogling doing so. “And yep,” he let the last consonant pop slightly, straightening his posture out just enough to be able to lean back against a large fungi-covered rock directly across from Bode, “we have a spare moment and they’re busy tiring themselves out fighting each other, so why not snack a little? Nearly dying works up an appetite. Might as well have dinner and a show.”

[akunaa]

PROMPTS FOR FIRST MEETINGS & AWKWARD CHATS *  assorted dialogue for new acquaintances, adjust as necessary

have we met?

i recognize your face from somewhere.

i've seen you before.

i think i've seen you around.

do you do this often?

you look familiar.

what do you do for work?

did you friends abandon you, too?

are you new around here?

feel like dancing?

i think i'd remember a face like yours.

sorry, i don't mean to stare.

i've heard about you.

have you eaten here before?

you certainly get around.

think i saw you last week.

i've just never seen anyone as beautiful as you before.

i've been meaning to introduce myself.

it's really nice to meet you.

you look a little lost.

do you need some help?

wait a second. i know you.

do you come here often?

looks like we're the only ones left.

can i give you my number?

we haven't been properly introduced.

so... what kind of music do you listen to?

i'm sure you hear that a lot.

i don't mean to pry.

let me call you a taxi.

mind if i sit here?

when did you get here?

how long have you lived here?

do you remember me from last time?

do you like living here?

that was a dumb question to ask.

can i buy you a drink?

i hope i didn't scare you.

have you been here before?

i just think you're really pretty.

we met last week!

i didn't mean to interrupt you.

go on with your day!

i could give you a ride home.

feels like we were destined to meet.

would you dance with me?

i'll be just fine.

let's grab a table.

do you want to grab coffee sometime?

could i see you again?

i felt like i should come over here and introduce myself.

you're extraordinary.

i really enjoy talking to you.

we've been talking for hours.

you were sitting alone, so i thought i'd join you.

would you like to come inside?

feel like going for a walk?

is this seat taken?

could we talk inside?

i'd really like to get to know you.

i never know what you're going to say next.

i can't get enough of you.

this is unusual for me.

i'm not used to this.

did i say that outloud?

what do you recommend here?

i love your laugh. it's so unique.

i'll walk you home.

let me call you an uber.

pretty sure i saw you last week.

was that a pick-up line?

i'm sorry if that was too forward of me.

[akunaa]

bode's love language is towering over u — and getting u anything from the top shelf, picking u up with only one arm like u weigh less than 1lb, making u amazing home-cooked meals bc he's absolutely Husband Material, and being great with kids — be it his own cute lil kid, the future kids u have with him, or the children he teaches bc he's a school teacher :-)

[akunaa]

              𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈  𝙷𝙰𝙳  𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳  𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝙰  𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙳,  𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙳  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 , its atmosphere thick with moisture and the faint, mineral scent of stagnant water.  the walls and ceiling were alive with patches of bioluminescent fungus, their soft blue glow pulsing in the gloom like the breathing of some unseen organism.  pools of uncertain depth littered the uneven ground, their surfaces shimmering with an eerie blue-green light—be it from the fungi clinging to submerged stone or the water’s own latent toxicity, akuna couldn’t say.  probably both.

it was, in its own strange way, beautiful. the kind of place that would’ve fascinated his daughter, where he could almost hear her voice asking him to describe every detail.  he would’ve liked to stand there for a moment longer, to commit the scene to memory—not for himself, but for her.  she’d want to draw it, to bring his words to life in color.  maybe she would even ask him to help her, if denvik allowed him to stay long enough to pick up a brush. . .  but, as always, the mission came first.

❝you always snack like we’re not one misstep away from a firefight?❞ bode leaned back against the damp rock, arms folded over his knees, expression an amalgamation of bafflement and reluctant intrigue as he watched kestis demolish an entire protein bar with all the focus of a man savoring his last meal.

this wasn’t in the reports. bode had meticulously studied cal kestis’s file in preparation for this mission, dissecting every account of his feats, every reported piece of intelligence the empire had gathered over the years.  he knew kestis was unpredictable, foolhardy, and yet frighteningly competent in battle.  a fugitive jedi knight known for reckless engagements and an uncanny ability to survive against overwhelming odds.  bode had prepared for volatility, braced himself for the kind of raw, desperate aggression that came with years of running across the galaxy.

            instead, he found himself in a dank, dimly lit cave, watching the so-called ‘legitimate threat to the empire’ enjoy an afternoon snack with seemingly absentminded contentment.

bode didn’t quite know what to make of it. there was something disarmingly human about kestis, almost boyish in his casual defiance of the danger outside.  it was unexpected.  disconcerting, even.  and, in a different life, under entirely different circumstances, he might have even called it charming      bode quickly shouldered aside the wayward thought.   what the hell was he even thinking? oh, fierfek. maybe his proximity to the bioluminescent alien fungi had rendered him stupid for a second.

❝you’re lucky you’re good,❞ he muttered, eyeing the protein bar with a bemused mix of skepticism and approval before plucking it from the jedi’s outstretched hand, his voice dropping just slightly.  ❝and i mean that.  you’re. . . different, kestis.  in a good way.❞

@akunaa

Here, Greez had said while shoving a few homemade protein bars and dried fruits into his pockets. You don't eat enough, kid. I can't make ya sit down and eat a proper meal but the least I can do is make sure you have something while you're running around doing who even knows what out there.

It touched Cal that, even after these years of separation, the older Lateron still fussed over him...not that he'd ever tell him that without teasing him a little first. Instead, he grumbled about being able to take care of himself but took a few pieces of bantha jerky and put them into his pockets too.

Bode had taken up Cal's offer to go exploring Koboh and he didn't want to look too closely at how pleased it made him feel. Four hours later while they're fleeing from both Imps and Raiders he felt a little less pleased, but during a momentary lull between patrols he pulled out one of the protein bars and gnawed on it idly as they waited.

❝ don’t you think our priority should be escape first, eat second? ❞ Cal covered his full mouth and stifled a laugh at Bode's incredulous query.

He took a moment to swallow before replying, "Look, we have a moment and need to let them pass unless you really want to get in the middle of a fight. And Greez gets tetchy when I come back and haven't eaten the snacks he gave me." Cal pulled another bar out of his pocket and waved it towards Bode. "Want one? It has koja nuts!"

[akunaa]

@notevenstars 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: “I’ve seen you before.”

              𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙷  𝚂𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚁  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚇 than akuna had anticipated.  simple, because he was a professional: efficient, discreet, and adept at avoiding the sort of questions that turned wary allies into silent adversaries.  these traits alone were often enough to secure a foothold in most organizations.  difficult, because success, ironically, came with its own set of complications.

the challenge lay in maintaining an equilibrium between proficiency and restraint.  a lone mercenary who delivered results without fail was an asset—until he became a curiosity.  competence, taken to excess, bred suspicion.  bode knew better than to stand out too quickly; rapid ascent invited judgement, the kind that could not only mark him for scrutiny, but also leave him vulnerable to expulsion.  yet caution had its own dangers.  taking the slow, deliberate approach would not go unnoticed either, especially not by his bastard handler, who had an expectation for results.

and so here he was, in a dimly lit bar deep in coruscant’s underbelly, drinking himself into something approximating oblivion while waiting for the partisans to make contact.  it wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening, though it was undoubtedly reckless.  leaving himself wide open—vulnerable, in a place like this, was the kind of stupidity he would berate himself for later—particularly when, half a second too late, he registered the presence of a hooded figure sliding onto the stool beside him.

“i’ve seen you before.”

             ❝was i saving the day or making a mess?❞ bode mused before downing the last bitter swallow of his drink.  the glass met the counter with a dull clink before he turned his head — what he saw almost made him regret looking at all.

female.  togruta.  late twenties.  striking, in a way that commanded attention without asking for it.  but it wasn’t her appearance that prompted a ripple of unease through him; it was recognition. ahsoka tano. former padawan of anakin skywalker, the hero with no fear. for a moment, bode briefly considered the possibility that this was some cruel trick of exhaustion and alcohol. it wasn’t.

    ❝i’ve done both,❞ he said at last, feigning nonchalance even as his mind worked at a breakneck pace.  ❝sometimes in the same five minutes.❞

[akunaa]

my greatest sin is sitting on completed replies for days bc i havent made an icon yet

[akunaa]

@survivorfcrged 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: “i never know what you're going to say next.”

              𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝚂𝙽’𝚃  𝙰𝙽  𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻  𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃  𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙿 — certainly not one mosey had on her carefully curated list of safe locations. in fact, akuna was certain mosey had flagged this particular area as a site to avoid, citing its proximity to bedlam raider territory.

however, practicality outweighed caution. in their current state, neither he nor cal could afford the luxury of choice.  the trek back home was a risk in itself, and bode wasn’t convinced cal could make it.  bruised, battered, and visibly drained, the young knight had likewise pushed himself far past the limits of endurance.  over ten hours of rooting out wayward raiders, opportunists preying on koboh’s scattered settlements had done a number on both of them.  but doma had asked for help, and cal, predictably, had answered without hesitation.

“i never know what you’re going to say next.”

bode almost lost his grip. the ladle struck the rim of the pot, and the sharp clang of metal on metal reverberated off the jagged rock walls that surrounded their impromptu shelter, momentarily overwhelming the soft crackle of the fire. a miscalculation. caught between stirring the bubbling stew and thinking about the story he just wrapped up—the awful week he spent alone and lost in an alien jungle—he miscalculated, banked left too hard.  he exhaled. no harm done.

      ❝and yet you still keep listening.❞ bode tilted his head as he regarded cal with lidded eyes and the slow beginnings of a grin that was half amusement, half something else. ❝kinda sweet, kestis.❞ he could do casual way better than this, but it served for a start.  the young jedi’s remark had come out of left field.  it was unusual.  unsettling. ❝careful—you’re gonna make me think you like the sound of my voice.❞

chuckling, bode returned to stirring their dinner, using the rhythmic motion to buy himself a moment before settling back down.  across from him, cal sat beyond the fire’s glow, the flickering light painting dark shadows over his features, obscuring his expression. fierfek.

❝glad to know i’m keeping the audience entertained.❞  bode injected an easy, practiced mirth into the words as he reached for their shared water flask.   ❝was it the part where i wrestled a lizard for my boot, or when i started taking life advice from a tree?❞

[akunaa]

@survivorfcrged 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: “you look a little lost.”

              𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙻  𝙸𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙴  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴  𝚂𝙰𝚆  𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚁𝙴𝚁𝙰   was the inherent one-sided nature of communication.  it was rarely a dialogue; it was a monologue, a transmission delivered with the assumption that you would receive, process, and act.  make contact, receive the necessary details, and that was the end of it.  there were no clarifications, no revisions, no back-and-forth discussions.  the rationale was simple enough: security demanded it.  the risk of interception was too great.  what you received was all you had to work with.

akuna was well-acquainted with this type of communication. as a shadow during the clone wars, he had learned the discipline of one-way communication: silent orders, encrypted transmissions, dead drops with no follow-up.  working under denvik had reinforced that lesson.  the touch-and-go nature of intelligence transfers under the rotten bastard was stringent, near clinical, and reflected the precarious conditions rebels often operated under.  it was a harsh but efficient approach, and bode had long since grown accustomed to functioning within these boundaries.

but for all his experience, bode had never encountered something quite like this.  the data cal had received was so heavily encrypted, so meticulously obfuscated to avoid imperial detection, that the very act of decryption itself might have compromised the integrity of the information. . .

“you look a little lost.”

  ❝lost?  nah.  i’m just. . . exploring all the wrong places for dramatic effect,❞ bode said, aiming for levity and probably missing the target by a visvia.

cal kestis didn’t respond with irritation, but there was an undeniable tension in his step, a restless energy that bode had come to recognize as unease.  perhaps it was the oppressive presence of the empire on coruscant, the patrols stationed at every intersection, waiting—watching.  or maybe the kid simply didn’t like crowds.  whatever the cause, bode understood. this was far from ideal.

how exactly were they to locate an illegal arms dealer willing to supply the partisans when the decryption provided only a partial set of coordinates?

❝if i’d known we’d spend the whole afternoon wandering in circles, i would’ve packed a picnic,❞ bode continued, glancing up from his datapad with a crooked grin, as though the map in his hands was the least of his concerns.  ❝hey, we’ve been through worse, right?  we’ll find this guy.  probably.  eventually. . .  just—maybe not on this street.❞

[akunaa]

@lncarnon 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: there's nary a warning save for the soft whistle of the arrow through the air, and perhaps the feeling of something being terribly wrong, before its red crescent head buries into the wall beside bode's head.

              𝙱𝚈  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  𝙰𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙰  𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚉𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂  𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 , the air seemed charged with a premonition of violence.  it wasn’t unusual for a place like nar shaddaa, the so-called smuggler’s moon.  here, danger was the natural order of things.  no corner of this filthy satellite escaped the grasp of the hutt cartel, no street or alley untouched by crime and desperation.

this particular alleyway was no exception.  spice addicts stumbled through, their glassy eyes flickering with faint, desperate hope as they begged for credits to fund their next escape from reality.  a handful of prostitutes lingered at the fringes, their voices low, offering promises of fleeting pleasure in exchange for survival.  their presence, like everything else on this moon, was transactional.

akuna tilted his head, watching from the rooftops. to the average person, the first occurrence of something unusual might be dismissed as chance, the second as coincidence, and only the third as evidence of a trend — if they were observant enough to connect the dots at all. but bode akuna was not like most people. years of hiding, hunting, and being hunted, had attuned him to the minutest cadences of danger.

it didn’t take much for him to discern a pattern. he knew better than anyone that no being, human or alien, could stalk without leaving some trace of their presence.  there was always a tell: the faintest shuffle of a boot, the barely perceptible exhale, or the strained creak of a body spent too long stilled, unwilling to betray itself.  these were signs he knew intimately, the way one learned the rhythm of one’s own heartbeat. the zip in the air, the vague weight of eyes watching from unseen corners—it all spoke to him, as clearly as footfalls heard in the dark. bode didn’t need to see his pursuers to know they were there.

whoever they were, they’d underestimated their quarry.

and there it was again—an indistinct shuffle in the distance, out of place, and almost too soft to catch.  almost.  a shadow might think it could outpace the one it pursued, but bode knew better.  he’d seen too many lives snuffed out by minor oversights.  this wasn’t paranoia; it was experience.  and while others might dismiss such feelings as delusion, he knew the galaxy wasn’t kind to those who waited for proof when the first warning signs appeared —

bode ducked instinctively, the whoosh of air preceding the unmistakable thump of metal embedding itself into durasteel mere inches behind him.  he risked a glance over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at the arrow now quivering where his head had been moments before.  sleek, balanced, and deadly — no ordinary delinquent carried something like that.

keeping low, bode darted behind a nearby roof duct.  he wasn’t in the mood for games, but an arrow? that was. . . quaint.  archaic, almost.  but the precision of the shot told him everything he needed to know.  the arc had been perfect; this wasn’t the work of a street punk or a random mercenary, but rather someone with training—someone with purpose.

              ❝y’know, most people start with a hello!❞

[akunaa]

PROMPTS FOR FIRST MEETINGS & AWKWARD CHATS *  assorted dialogue for new acquaintances, adjust as necessary

have we met?

i recognize your face from somewhere.

i've seen you before.

i think i've seen you around.

do you do this often?

you look familiar.

what do you do for work?

did you friends abandon you, too?

are you new around here?

feel like dancing?

i think i'd remember a face like yours.

sorry, i don't mean to stare.

i've heard about you.

have you eaten here before?

you certainly get around.

think i saw you last week.

i've just never seen anyone as beautiful as you before.

i've been meaning to introduce myself.

it's really nice to meet you.

you look a little lost.

do you need some help?

wait a second. i know you.

do you come here often?

looks like we're the only ones left.

can i give you my number?

we haven't been properly introduced.

so... what kind of music do you listen to?

i'm sure you hear that a lot.

i don't mean to pry.

let me call you a taxi.

mind if i sit here?

when did you get here?

how long have you lived here?

do you remember me from last time?

do you like living here?

that was a dumb question to ask.

can i buy you a drink?

i hope i didn't scare you.

have you been here before?

i just think you're really pretty.

we met last week!

i didn't mean to interrupt you.

go on with your day!

i could give you a ride home.

feels like we were destined to meet.

would you dance with me?

i'll be just fine.

let's grab a table.

do you want to grab coffee sometime?

could i see you again?

i felt like i should come over here and introduce myself.

you're extraordinary.

i really enjoy talking to you.

we've been talking for hours.

you were sitting alone, so i thought i'd join you.

would you like to come inside?

feel like going for a walk?

is this seat taken?

could we talk inside?

i'd really like to get to know you.

i never know what you're going to say next.

i can't get enough of you.

this is unusual for me.

i'm not used to this.

did i say that outloud?

what do you recommend here?

i love your laugh. it's so unique.

i'll walk you home.

let me call you an uber.

pretty sure i saw you last week.

was that a pick-up line?

i'm sorry if that was too forward of me.

[akunaa]

@kniightsiister 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 :: “Bode Akuna, what are your intentions with Cal?”

              𝙰𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙰’𝚂  𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂𝚃  𝚃𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷  𝙻𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙳  𝙴𝚇𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙴 , the burn of strained muscles mingling with the dull ache of healing wounds. slowly, he shifted his left leg, now freed from the weight of the durasteel cuff that had bound him to the cot.  a necessary precaution, or so they had insisted, one he’d begrudgingly agreed to.  but understanding didn’t mean accepting. day in and day out, chained to a bed—it wasn’t imperial incarceration, nowhere near it, but the distinction thinned with each passing day.  sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d exchanged one form of imprisonment for another.

❝right now?  well. . .❞  bode offered a dry chuckle, though it cost him another stab of pain in his lungs. ❝my intentions are to breathe, not tear my mechnosutures, and maybe avoid getting shot by your boyfriend again.❞

casual but edged, the words hung in the air.  if only merrin had been more specific about what she meant by intention.  did she mean professionally?  romantically?  or, stars help him, emotionally—like traumatizing each other into a lifelong partnership of some sort?  if it was the latter case, bode was already out of his depth; he had no desire of baring his soul to anyone.  if this was some kind of contest, merrin had already won that round. but her rigid posture, the tension set in her shoulders, the cold gleam of the cuff she had unfastened still glinting in her hands—it all spoke to a greater demand.

deflections wouldn’t work; merrin wasn't here to play games.  she wanted more than his usual evasions. something real. something bode wasn’t sure he had left to give.

               ❝after that. . . make up for what i did.  earn his trust, if i can.  maybe even his friendship.  try to be someone he can count on.❞  bode attempted a shrug, a reflexive gesture, but the sharp flare through his chest checked him mid-motion. his jaw tightened, betraying the effort it took to maintain even this tenuous veneer of ease.  fine.  he deserved that one.  ❝t-that’s the goal, anyway.❞

the irony wasn’t lost on him. according to kata, he’d spent five days floating in a bacta tank filled with degraded, decade-old reserves salvaged from the lucrehulk.  long-term treatment like that wasn’t standard for injuries unless they involved the catastrophic loss of entire limbs or worse.  the fact it had been necessary only underscored the damage a single modified plasma bolt had inflicted.  that was how close he’d come this time.

bode akuna should have died.   by all rights, he should have bled out on tanalorr, his mistakes carving the epitaph he’d long since resigned himself to.  and that would’ve been okay.  it would’ve made sense. but he hadn’t. against all odds, he was here—alive.  and not because of luck; he’d survived through the mercy of two people who had every reason to let him die.  people who should have walked away.  that knowledge sat heavy in his chest, right beneath the wound that had almost claimed him.  bode drew a slow, deliberate breath, grounding himself.

❝whatever you think i’m feeling, i promise i’m not stupid enough to act on it,❞ he said at last, his dark gaze sweeping down to the thin blanket covering him.  ❝cal doesn’t need that. and neither do you.❞  there was a quiet finality in his words, an unspoken understanding of newly established boundaries.  bode respected what merrin and cal shared, even if it left a empty ache in his chest to acknowledge it.

[akunaa]

so. where all the cals at. no reason. just asking for a friend

[akunaa]

new edit for bode's pinned post ✨ ok so i actually don't owe anything ( never thought i'd ever say this lol ) so im prob gonna reblog memes and/or drop his ass in ppl's inboxes later. hope everyone's having a good day 💕

[akunaa]

added to all pinned posts: do not send asks / memes without the intention of continuing interaction. didn't come here to write by myself; i'm usually very understanding and considerate, but do this repeatedly to answered asks / starters, and i will unfollow, full stop.

[akunaa]

              ❝𝙸𝙵  𝙸  𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳  𝙰𝙽  𝙴𝚇𝙲𝚄𝚂𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙶𝙴𝚃  𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃  𝙾𝙵𝙵 , i’d at least come up with something that didn’t involve you bleeding all over the potolli-weave,❞ akuna drawled, rivaling cal’s banter to a tee as he flipped open the medpac and began rummaging through its contents. disinfectant spray, bandages, gauze — gloved fingers faltered over the supplies as cal wrestled out of his clothing, his breathing uneven. wet.  strained. the telltale sound of pain, poorly masked.  another strangled hitch tightened bode’s jaw.

he should’ve known better than to give a jedi any choice. if cal had any complaints about losing yet another shirt, he’d have tossed him one of his own to wear. . . a thought bode tucked away for later examination.

❝hate to break it to you, but you’re about three drinks and a small miracle away from ‘not so bad,’❞ bode huffed, rifling through the clutter of half-used products and packaging yellowed with age—an obvious mishmash of old and new.  no large heat closures.  not enough sutures for a proper stitch job, either.

 ❝damn.  ’thought i picked some up last time.❞ he exhaled sharply through his nose, frustrated but not surprised.

the kit itself had been a cheap find on a station near er’kit years ago, but bode never relied on its original stock.  over time, he’d crammed it full of whatever ISB medical supplies he could get his hands on—standard stock, even the high-grade premium stuff—anything to tip the odds in his favor.  a single jar of bacta could fetch thousands these days, and if there was one thing bode never passed up, it was a chance to take back something from denvik.

           bacta and dermaseal it was then. a dated combo, but reliable.

my eyes cut to the blade in his fingers , feeling a thrill of anxiety bolt through my trembling limbs , sending a shockwave of pain down my right side & settling like fire underneath my ribs. ow. rolling my tongue over my lips , i grunted with a shift , sitting myself up better with a hiss through my teeth. well , it was worth a shot , trying to distract him with questions. i thought maybe i'd wait a few minutes , then haul myself back onto my bunk to sleep this mess off , or at least until bd replenished his stim cannisters.            ❛            oh please. you just wanna see me without a shirt on. admit it.            ❜

i hated feeling weak , deflecting as easier. i met bode's eyes again before reluctantly releasing the pressure i'd been holding against my side , prying my jacket free from my torso. my undershirt was slick with blood , sticky & hot against my freckled skin , but that too was peeled away with a wince , flopping back onto the lounge bench with a grimace. oil stains on fabric were one thing , greez would have a panic attack if he knew i was bleeding all over the sofa. three consecutive gashes marred my skin above , along , & below the right side of my ribs.

i had my fair share of scars , mind you , but these might take the cake once healed.            ❛            see ? not so bad. nothing a good night's sleep & a stiff drink won't fix.            ❜           a shudder of pain hit the wound & my spine arched , gritting my teeth against the onslaught , waving my free hand that wasn't fisted against the couch.            ❛            hng - okay , whatever , make that two.            ❜