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[bellamy-davos]

[bellamy-davos]

JOEY BATEY The Witcher │ Voleth Meir

[bellamy-davos]

cobb nodded. ❝ well, until things calm down around here, it’s not wise to go testing it out. but don’t worry -- it should be sorted soon. ❞ he gave cricket a few more pets before standing up and whistling to marshal, who perked up and moved straight to cobb’s side.

❝ anything else you need, kid? ❞

“No, no, that should be all, thank you so much for your help again,” he said with a smile. He was grateful, but it did help reminding him that he had so much to learn before he was really ready to be on his own completely. Cricket came back over to his side as Marshall came over and sat on his foot. Typical. 

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

the performer question made him pause to think -- it wasn’t very common, most looked for random labor, but he could pull out a few ideas. ❝ lona at the scarlet has music, things like that... gray at the starbird... also juniper, she has a theater she’s fixin’ up. she could be good to talk to. beyond that? not so sure. you could probably try busking, but i gotta feeling the troopers will find ways to harass you so i’d stick to more upstanding channels. ❞

“Okay, thank you,” he said with a nod. Juniper, Lona, Gray, he’d have to keep that in mind. “I was never big on busking. Least of which I wasn’t allowed in my last life.” He said with a grin. He wasn’t sure why he was even alluding to his former life, but something about this guy made him trust him a little. 

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb crouched down to give cricket lots of loves and pets. ❝ ‘course! well if you can think of anything, i’m always around. there’s also lots of people here that would be happy to help -- there’s lona, she owns the scarlet. she’s got a hold of all the jobs and needs around here. gray, at the starbird, same dish. wendi owns the laundromat, so if you need help with stuff like that, she’ll take care of you. and kota -- ❞ he paused, then glanced down at cricket again.

❝ well, when he comes back. he’s the doctor and more or less the mayor. but his girl nyomi’s around, for medical stuff. kartal, for money help... there’s tons of resources ‘round here. ❞ he glanced back up at bellamy. ❝ don’t feel bad ‘bout askin’ for help. ❞

Cricket was quick to lick Cobb’s face once he was knelt down to his level and Bellamy couldn’t help but let a small chuckle escape. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit of a lush about affection,” we both kind of are. But he wasn’t about to admit that to a still functional stranger.

“Right, Kartal and Kota, should be fairly easy to remember.” He remarked. “Don’t suppose there’s anyone looking for a performer around here yeah?” He asked with the slight tilt of his head. Bellamy really didn’t know if he wanted to start performing again, but he did know that it was pretty much all he was good at and he was going to need to pay for this place somehow.

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

❝ everybody’s gotta learn somewhere, ❞ cobb replied with a little shrug. ❝ no one’s born knowin’ everything. ❞ he finished making sure the pasta was ready before straining it the best he could -- just like how he described. ❝ there you go! pasta. lot easier when you see it all as steps instead of as one big task. ❞ he reached out and gave cricket a few pats to his head. he saw that marshal was sitting as their ‘guard’ by the door.

❝ got anything else you need help with? ❞ he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. ❝ no such thing as a dumb question, y’know. ❞

Bellamy looked at the pasta with both a sense of awe and disappointment that he couldn't figure it out. “No, no, I think for now I'm okay, thank you though.” He said, lying through his teeth. Cricket went over and sat on Cobb’s feet looking up with a look that can only be described as “I’m cute pet me”

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb laughed. ❝ no matter -- you can just pour the water out, just do it carefully, that's all. ❞ he stirred the pasta, feeling rather calm. cobb vastly preferred this sort of work over dealing with all the chaos and drama. it’s been very hard and he’d been working with everyone he could to try and gain some control of the town, but this wasn’t a project a single man could solve. 

Bellamy sighed as he held he scratched the back of his head a little. “Thank you for helping me with this by the way,” he said. “I’m still, very much working on how to function like a normal person. It’s a lot harder than it looks I’m surprised.” He added.

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb snorted. ❝ don't i know it. that's what i had most of my life, but i learned to cook eventually. it's all a process, like most things. ❞ he watched over the pot until the water was boiling, then found a new box of pasta to use.

❝ when the water's boiling, you can pour the pasta in and just let it cook. you stir it occasionally to make sure nothin' sticks, but that's really all there is to it. it takes about fifteen minutes, after that you can turn off the heat, strain the pasta, and boom. that's all you need. ❞

Bellamy nodded and tried to look through his kitchen cabinets. Did he even have a strainer? Probably not, but he could dream right? After sifting through for a minute, and briefly having to push Cricket out of the way, he came up empty handed. 

“Yeah, I don’t own a strainer.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck.

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb chuckled a little. ❝ hey, that's alright. it's all a learning process. nobody's born knowin' everything. don't feel bad. ❞ he cleaned up what he could, then dumped what was in the pot and cleaned it so they could start over fresh.

he glanced up at bellamy for a moment as he cleaned the pot. ❝ y'seem pretty young, i'll bet you're close to my boy's age. no wonder you don't know this stuff, you kids oughta be out having adventures. ❞ he shook his head a little.

❝ alright. pot, halfway with water, then you can put it on high heat 'till it's boiling. ❞ he did so to demonstrate. ❝ once you put whatever you're cooking into the pot, you can lower the heat a little to manage it. you keep a utensil around, like... this -- ❞ he grabbed a wooden utensil and held it up, ❝ and you'll be able to stir when you need to. that keeps the food from sticking to the pot and it'll keep it from burning.plus, keepin' a close eye on the food and its surroundings never hurt. ❞

Bellamy watched Cobb sort through everything and he shrugged. “I sort of am, however, it’s more I uh... didn’t really have training. Can’t cook if you’re just having hyperspace rations thrown at you,” he said with a hollow chuckle. 

He tried not to look fascinated by it, but the concept of cooking food hadn’t stopped being a novelty yet. 

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb smiled at the dog, gave him a little wave. ❝ well then -- let’s see what we can do here, huh. ❞ he stepped past bellamy into the house, using his hands to wave away some smoke.

❝ not as bad as it could be, ❞ he noted, rolling up his sleeves so he could start cleaning up the peripheral mess. he checked the faucets and they had running water, which was good, so he filled up a bowl and poured it over the stove just to make sure everything was truly out. he got another window open and soon enough, they were no longer tormented by smoke. now he could see what was actually on the stove to make this mess, and he nodded. ❝ well, let’s start with paying attention to what’s sittin’ on the fire. never leave a lit stove and never let anything sit on the stove that doesn’t belong there. ❞ he squinted a little, poking at ashy remnants.

❝ paper towels? ❞ he questioned. ❝ y’shouldn’t keep that anywhere near this stuff. ❞

Bellamy went to stop him, but when he couldn’t manage it he reluctantly followed him back into the house. As Cobb took care of the mess, Bellamy bit on his nail a little. He didn’t really like all of this, even with Cricket sauntering back in and flopping his feet. “I had spilled something earlier, I was just... trying to make pasta.” He said with a bit of a face. “I thought I’d put them far enough away.” He said.

This, is what spending your life in a cell did to your personable skills.

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb wasn’t believing that ventilation story for a second. he didn’t want to embarrass the kid or anything, but stars, he was gonna get himself hurt one of these days! he was about to ask if the dog was friendly, but one look at the pup beside the stranger and cobb knew that was a stupid question to ask. he walked over and let marshal and the new dog meet.

❝ name’s cobb. this is marshal, ❞ he said, gesturing to the german shepherd beside him. ❝ i’m also the marshal for the outpost. you’re new here, i haven’t seen you around before. ❞ he put his hand out for a shake.

Bellamy shook the outstretched hand with a slight vigor. “That would be correct, I only landed a week or so ago, been a bit busy trying to get the house into something resembling a home. It’s been more of a challenge than I had expected,” not that he had much to go off of. His mother’s place had only been furnished enough for the practicality of both of them living there and his other living quarters had consisted of a cell and a ship. 

“Bellamy, by the way, the dog’s name is Cricket. He’s not the brightest, but he’s incredibly friendly.” He said with a grin. 

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

cobb was out walking marshal when he slowly walked towards a smoking... house. his brows quirked and marshal sat dutifully beside him, his head also quirked to the side in that way that dogs do. seems like there was always a meltdown somewhere, right? never a dull moment on batuu.

❝ havin’ trouble? ❞ he asked, glancing at the man standing closest to the house. ❝ is it... still on fire? i can call for the fireman, ❞ he offered.

Bellamy turned to look at the older man, also accompanied by a dog and tried to laugh the whole thing off. “Oh no, I think I got it mostly put out before I had to make a break for it. Terrible ventilation in that place I’m afraid,” he said grinning and putting on so much of a front it was kind of hilarious. Do not let the stranger know that you absolutely cannot cook at all to save your life.

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

This... shouldn’t have been possible.

Bellamy was standing on the street outside of the small abode he’d managed to move into with his small pile of credits that he’d acquired over the years as smoke poured out of the doors and windows. He was just trying to make pasta and somehow had nearly set the house on fire. 

The golden retriever next to him was none the wiser, looking up at him and wagging his tail and being dopey. “Well Cricket, at least you’re in good spirits about this,” he muttered. The house was gonna smell for a week after this.

[bellamy-davos]

incoming transmission: DAVOS , BELLAMY from the planet of BESPIN is making arrangements to land on batuu. the TWENTY SIX year old HUMAN is here to become a LORE KEEPER. keep a close eye on them, i hear they can be SARCASTIC, MUSICAL, and EASILY CONFUSED. they have documented that they always bring their BLASTER with them. (joey batey, cis male, he/him, pan)

bellamy davos should have never ended up the lore keeper of the brethren court.

born on tatooine to a barmaid, there wasn’t much bellamy could do except work and hope for a better life out there in the galaxy.

but it's tatooine. and nothing is ever completely peaceful for long. when he was 18, he was “pressed” (read: kidnapped) into the service of weequay pirate crew and he never had time to explain that he was awful with a blaster and couldn’t shoot the broad side of a bantha to save his life. he originally hoped once they learned this, they’d either kill him or leave him behind on the next planet. or maybe he could just desert! that’d work better in everyone’s favor.

but one night, when he thought everyone was asleep, he found himself humming a tune that his mom used to sing to him when he was little, trying to calm himself down a little from a long and stressful day of arguing his survival. some of the others, including the captain, heard it and someone should’ve mentioned that weequays always loved a good party.

so bellamy was kept around, as a canary, singing and humming and giving subtle signals for look out. it was better, but by no means a great living. he was still barely feeding himself and the pirates got rowdy when they got smashed and he was not much of a fighter. but he liked to think he was alive and that was more than he could say for some.

for three years, that’s how he lived, until when docked on florum, the pirates were raided and no one bothered to check the cells until the dust settled. there, he met cormag selios, who much like the weequay before him, found himself fascinated by the canary in a spice den. he took the young man on as an apprentice, actually bothering to try and teach him how to survive in this life. and that included the smuggler’s code, taught out of the codex itself. bellamy never felt the need to ask, figuring it was one of those mass produced books like the historians started doing of the jedi texts once they had access to the library again.

another three years under cormag and finally bellamy felt like he was living instead of just surviving. it was hard work, unstable sometimes, but he gave a shit about the crew around him and to his surprise, they gave a bit of a shit about him too.

but good things end, and smuggling is a dangerous game.

what was supposed to be an easy transaction resulted in a sting by the first order, the death of the crew as a certainty. bellamy found the aftermath and cormag told him to grab the code and run, only stopping if he had to heed the call. not that it was likely, cormag had told him everyone was needed and so many of them were already dead.

so bellamy ran, hiding out in taverns that would have him, singing if he needed the credits, and bickering with resident starlets when he had to.

no need to worry about the massive codex burning a hole in his bag right? right?

as tasked all those years ago, when han solo called for the court bellamy answered. a little panicked and an octave higher than his typical speaking voice but he agreed, quickly making the arrangements on bespin to travel to korad.

he has a hyperspace journey to relearn a codex he hasn’t thought about in five years. no pressure.