Session export: Aurora Collegium Freshers' Fair and Farmer's Market!

The Shadow Academy had become a place of immediate high interest for Kerissa. Her studies had stopped when she left home a decade ago, so having open access to so many records, histories and journals was and still continued to be a point of major enthusiasm for the Kessurian mix. Travelling could be risky, so she’d taken to making her trips here last at least a few days if not a couple of weeks before returning back to Selen. It allowed her to avoid some of the decisions she needed to make in regards to her place in the clan as well. She had no reason to align with either of their ‘houses’, so getting time away with the space to do her own research on them was rather useful.

Yet today was one of different explorations. She adorned herself in some less studious clothing and made her way out to where the faire had been set up. It was almost overwhelming, and she was keeping her tail as close to herself as she could, but it was more exciting.

It didn’t take long to end up amongst the booze, wanting to peruse what would be the more expensive items before allowing herself to look over at clothing. One perk of having a permnant home was being able to actually have a wardrobe and not wear the same barely held together clothes for years straight.

One of the stalls that had an interesting variety was missing it’s keeper, so Kerissa moved on, coming up beside a Zeltron woman with scarlet hair and picking up a bottle of.. something. She didn’t actually look at the label.

“Uh, not specifically no. More aiming to be within my price range and not wookie-piss.” Kerissa turned the bottle to actually read the label before glancing back to the shorter woman. “Any recommendations? This about the price range I’m looking at.”

She held the bottle out.

“Definitely the sweeter side of things. Maybe something that’s more for mixing with other liquers and juices?”

Kerissa placed the bottle back down, not sure what it is really other than the right price and hoping this lady had a better idea of what to go for.

Kerissa hummed, looking at the bottle.

“I prefer descriptive. The fancy names are nice but knowing what you’re buying is always preferable.” The woman chuckled, taking the bottle if it was offered and examining it.

“Sounds perfect. I’m guessing these are your products?”

“Versatile.” Kerissa nodded, a smile crossing her face. “Though I’ll hang off the bantha steaks for now. I’ve got a lot of wandering to do. I will take this though.” She raised the bottle slightly, looked at the price tag and then offered out the credits.

“Have you seen the clothing stalls? There’s quite a few.”

“Transmitting landing clearance codes and shipment manifest,” Ta'xi said, entering the necessary data into the comm relay. A reply soon came over the comm unit with a curt, “Landing permission granted at landing pad 3.” Ta'xi gripped the steering stick with three digits and deftly maneuvered the ship down through the sky towards the designated platform. “Fave, how are the Inertial compensators doing?”. A lilting voice came from Ta'xi’s co-pilot, an FA-5 pilot droid, “Master Ta'xi, the inertial compensators are in the green. Deploying landing gear. After we land, would you care for a refreshment? It has been four-point-two-three galactic standard hours since your last beverage.” A brief silence, as the ship settled onto the platform, then Ta'xi stood up from their chair, long limbs stretching, “After we unload I’ll get something from the fair, Fave. For now tidy the ship, may have customers in need of our services”

Walking to the rear of the ship, Ta'xi opened a hatch and slipped down into the cargo hold. Reaching up, Ta'xi pulled a lever and then pressed a large red button. A hissing sound came from in front of Ta'xi’s position and a seam of light shown in as the cargo bay ramp began lowering. The sounds flooded in the cargo hold and Ta'xi’s head tilted for a moment processing the new sensory information. Grabbing the hand truck, Ta'xi began unloading the crates of food perishable foods. A dock worker approached and inspected the crates, “14 crates of oranges, 12 crates of granadilla, and 5 crates of starfruit. All seems accounted for. Your landing permit is good for the next three standard hours, enjoy the fair.” Ta'xi signed the document and watched the dock worker head off. Activating the comlink, Ta'xi said, “Fave, I am heading into the market, close up the ship for me.” “Oh yes, Master. I will have the ship ready to go. Please do not forget to drink something as it has been four-point-five-four galactic standard hours since your last-” Ta'xi cut the comm short and walked into the marketplace.

Ta'xi got in line at a stall offering vegetarian meals and scanned the menu. “What can meesa get ya?” the gungan stall worker asked leaning on the till. “I’ll take a number 3, and a paonga fresca.” Handing over exact change, Ta'xi waited for the meal before finding a seat at an available table. Famished from the long trip, Ta'xi rapidly consumed the Veghash and then sat back and scanned the surrounding stalls while sipping on the Paonga Fresca. The delicious, seedy beverage was a particular favorite of Ta'xi.

Socorra and Wyndell were preparing to sell some of her rare items at the market.

“Here is schematic of our booth. Exit here, and here,” Socorra pointed to her datapad screen. “Trap door here, and blast door for front and hidden portal here. Next page is map of market, lot of exit to watch, but plenty place to stash weapon in case.”

Wyn accepted the datapad, raising both eyebrows and nodding in appreciation of the safety measures for what was very likely a small tent. “I think we have enough to fend off an army of Ewoks.”

“Whole army of them, nice. We will have Turi, so go big or go home, sah? I did have modification made to his hoverpod to conceal weapon, I show later. And speaking of Ewok, I hope there is vendor, Seraph’s lightspeed delivery service is starting to charge astronomical fee, and I am here on Arx much…”

Her voice droned out as the man whipped out a stylus and started drawing on the pad with it, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. A couple of finishing jabs and slash later he offered the device back.

She turned to look at it, her single arctic blue eye narrowing. The schematic was now full of stick figures, a bull rancor, and a cheeky kitchen sink. “Wyn! Stop that, you make it worse!”

“Worse… or better?” His brows wiggled animatedly.

The woman growled at him. “Can I trust you do this? I need to make fast side cred and you better at sale. I could just trick them into giving us money…”

She started packing a tote with supplies, missing the frown he wore at those last words. It quickly passed. The Socorran was a beautiful mind-bender but nothing like his father. The difference between neutral and chaotic evil.

“Nono, of course, I’ve got this,” he said, his spacer accent suddenly morphing into high Coruscanti. The change was so quick and odd that she looked back up to the taller Human. He was now sporting a wig, hat, cape, and a fake mustache.

“Where did you even…”

She stared at the props for a long moment, attempting to determine if Wyndell had become so good with illusions that she couldn’t tell the difference anymore. That prospect was very perplexing.

“See? I can do this, M’lady Erinos,” he bowed and tipped his hat.

The glare and Old Corellian curse that flung from her ruby lips clearly said, I am no Lady. Knock that off.

“Step right up folks, don’t be shy! We have some of the finest imports in the galaxy right here, all the way from the Black Sands of Socorro!”

Wyndell swung a dueling cane in his hand as he greeted passersby, stepping lightly on his toes in the street and gesturing to the overly ornate market stall behind him.

Socorra, on the other hand, was busy working the market in a completely different manner, attempting to casually stroll from booths and carts and tables. Her eye and ears and mind were focused on the consumers and producers much more than their wares, listening to them in the Force and watching the nonverbals as if they spoke to her directly. They were her love language…and her job.

A princess from the Arx castle, and Spy to the Stars, from one Grand Master and Deputy to the next, intelligence kept the Praetor busy, and a target. In deep osik sometimes, but mostly alive. Besides, Evant hadn’t given her permission to die. <@189568236201705472>

click

click

…cli-fwifffffff

The jet heater roared to life, nearly instantly heating Mikhail’s booth a few degrees. His bright crystal eyes watched the flame through thin black glasses, inspecting it and the attached source to ensure it ran properly. Once satisfied, he slowly adjusted the forge, positioning it at an angle in the front corner of his booth, giving the people walking by an angle to see inside as he toss a hunk of metal in to begin heating.

The Arkanian seemed well dressed for forge work, wearing a black leather designer jacket that opened to a thin grey undershirt. His pants matched in color, made of a tough thin fabric to protect from potential burns. His pale hands ran through raven black hair as he made one more pass around the inside of his booth, checking his equipment and straightening the display of weapons both powered and traditional, varying in degrees of beauty. From a bland yet sturdy chopper to an elegant slightly curved blade with a black handle inlaid with silver designs, all form fitted to a hand. Other trinkets were there as well, ranging from paperweights, necklace pieces, earrings, all the way to a miniature statue of a Rancor in the midst of battle with a squadron of smaller humanoid figures clad in shards of white armor.

At the back of the booth was a table that looked more for tinkering than metal working. Across it was a variety of metal plates, tools, wires, and similar bits of technology. Perhaps the most notable was a half finished set of black powered armor that rested in pieces on stands above the rest of the tools and materials. If he was lucky, he intended to get work done on that too today.

Mikhail ensured everything was straight and tidy, even his hair and jacket. Coming out to this wasn’t his first choice, but the normally introverted Arkanian noticed an infilled urge for some sort of socialization, even if it was only transactional as selling some trinkets tended to be. Still, with a small sign infront of his booth offering custom works, there was an option for more in depth talking. He wasn’t sure if he’d come to regret it yet.

“Damn.” Kerissa spoke with an impressed tone, a smile crossing her face. “Well, I’m sold on it.”

She went with the suggestion of investigating the sample trays, taking a cube of cheese, “I’ll have to go look at the scarves, though you’re not wrong about the usual situation with pockets. Tail holes too.” Kerissa flicked her tail, to emphasise, “Having one of these comes with needing to learn hemming. Which does come in handy with pockets too, actually. If it’s one of those fake pockets, you can just unstitch it and add your own. It’s stupid still, but fixable.”

“W-wh. What. Is happening? To your f-fACEohStars.”

The dark malachite Rodian male of standard 1.67 m for species appeared as though he was considering diving underneath the booth. Unfortunate for him, as he’d set up on solid crates. His eyes, approximately 118-123 nm off from vermilion depending on the color of the light on the planet/room he was in, were bulging enough to roll out of their sockets. He does not need to sense the male’s fear across his headtails in order to see it so obviously. But Heeks has been healthily afraid of him for 13 galactic standard years. It is a pivotal quality to their business relationship.

“F-F-Foxen? This. I got. Are y-you mad? It’s wh what you want right? This time? Please karabast I just got a voorpak, don’t– eeeei!”

He shifts, inspecting the contents of the package he’s been handed with great care, and Heeks squeals at his movement. Reasonable. But Foxen isn’t palming a knife to remove more of the Rodian’s right distal phalanges. He isn’t mad.

He’s having a beautiful moment here and Heeks’ panic is souring it.

Quiet down, he says, rolling his eyes. Not mad. Approved.

“O-oh. Oh.” A pause, as the volume and octave of squeakiness lower to reasonable Rodian vocal tenor. “OH.”

Having a revelation there, pal? he asks slowly, since the decade of beautiful business transactions has familiarized the smuggler with his language, but not so much to create fluency.

“Gah,” Heeks squeaks again, and hunkers down anyway, even if he can’t crawl under the table, he can at least duck and peer over the crate edge. “FINE, just FINE, not having– heart attack– at all. Why you trying to eat me if you’re n-not ma-ad?”

Eyeroll. He huffs and chooses clemency and clarity, because really, Heeks has come through.

Heeks, Foxen assures, I’m happy.

“You’re– what?” Confusion. He doesn’t know that sign. Ugh, frak.

Negative sad.

“Neg…no…sad? What.”

- Foxen waits. Patiently, because his dealer has earned that. Gears turn furiously in Heek’s attenaed head.

“DO YOU MEAN HAPPY?”

Pal, this is a farmer’s market, not a concert, lower your fraking voice.

He’s been in plenty of temples all over the galaxy – dead fraker’s walking sure like to hide in them – and none of them are so holy as congregations of fresh produce.

Yes, he adds, patiently, once Heeks looks like he’s done having a stroke. Negative sad. Happy. He demonstrates the sign again.

“So…t-that, that thing. That’s. You smiling?”

Confirm.

“Gah.” Reasonable response, approved. Heeks shudders. “Man, I still don’t karkin’ get it, what’s so big about these drupes…”

“Fox!” hoots a new voice.

Foxen turns immediately, like a compass pulled pointing North. From up the row of stalls comes sunset and song and color in the form of a rustic-feathered man skirting deftly between bodies, brushing past touching anyone, and hopping to a stop in front of him. Even stationary, he’s practically buzzing, the multitude of the market an excess of stimulus for him to explore, and, from quiet stories, he knows, not dissimilar in design to the occasional mercantile gatherings of tribes on his homeworld.

Home chirps, “I found more knives! They are…cool. You will like, yes?”

- Flyndt has come running for him. The smile steals over his face without him even feeling it; he knows it happens only because Flyndt smiles back, and because on their left Heeks squeaks with horror. Thankfully, his arm was clever enough to tuck behind his back naturally when he heard Flyndt approaching, and the package isn’t in view yet.

Cool, he agrees less and less begrudgingly by the day, damn you, Minnie, and adds, How was the other thing?

Flyndt’s face scrunched. “Stinky,” he grumbled, and then shook his head, the movement lacking the ruffle of motion it normally had with his head covered by his scarf, the trails trailing where feathers normally did. Stinky – that tracked. He had been 96% certain that the booth he last “lost” Flyndt at (for the 27th time) was a tabacc bar, though he didn’t recognize the colorful and teapot shaped vessels with tubes they were using. “But…cool. Would not let me inspect without trading, though.”

Do you want one?

The Omwati immediately shook his head, a denial already on inked lips, before he paused. Chewed on said lip, narrowed eyes up at Foxen, then adjusted course, “…Perhaps. If we no find something else.”

The Nautolan hybrid didn’t bother pointing out they could get him more than one thing. Everything, anything he wanted. It was meaningful enough that he was allowing any purchases at all, and Foxen was grateful for it.

O.K. he said, smiling again – Heeks for frak’s sake get your shit together stop squeaking – and clarifying, might have to wait then. I have something for you. His stomach clenches and flips over inside, and the smile slips. He presents his argument. But it’s something I’ve been meaning to give you. The surprise you’ve been waiting for. Can have it now or later. Up to you. So maybe it can not count for today?

“..yeah if only.” Kerissa side glanced the Zeltron, a slight smile crossing her own face. She had a feeling she’d be coming back to this ones stalls in the future. Though itd be a large difference from the alcohol and produce they were selling now. Hm. Itd be interesting.

“Maybe we can help each other with it. Second opinions are great when it comes to getting the right colours.” She spoke diplomatically, before offering out her hand, “I’m Kerissa Monique, by the way.”

“Erin.” Kerissa repeated, setting it to memory and waiting patiently as Erinyes made her way over before starting off towards the clothing stalls. “Let’s go.”

Not knowing where the stall was specifically, the Kessurian mix was largely just following along after Erinyes, looking over the various stalls as they passed them but nothing in particular catching her eye yet. It was a gorgeous display though. Woven dresses, leather bound belts and pouches and jackets. Shoes buffed to a high degree. Brightly coloured cloths, from solid colours to patterns, gradients, imprints… the full bredth of creativity of those who worked for and within the Brotherhood was on display.

It made the whole group feel a lot less grim.

Kerissa glanced to Erinyes, “How long have you been.. around this lot for?”

Kerissa looked surprised, musing at the words as they paused walking. “Well, I don’t know how long of a time that is, but if it’s changed so much I guess quite a while.”

Very interesting.

She shrugged, “Maybe.. two months now? I was on Selen and met a couple of your people by chance. They had picked up that I was Force Sensitive and.. well. Now I’m here.” A soft laugh escaped her, “Honestly it doesn’t quite feel real.”

Ta'xi had just finished the drink when a comm came through, “Master, it seems my left shoulder plating has fallen off.” Ta'xi’s antenna twitched in frustration. Hopping out of the chair, Ta'xi rushed back to the ship. Activating the onboarding ramp, Ta'xi quickly climbed the stairs and located the FA-5 droid. “Hello, Master,” Fave said from their position on the floor, “Unfortunately, I fell while dusting the overhead compartments. It seems the plating dislodged on impact with the chair.” A sharp chirping noise came from Ta'xi’s legs rubbing together in frustration. Helping the droid up, Ta'xi examined the joint and plating connections where there appeared to have been a crack on the plating side that gave out. “You’ll need a replacement, I’ll pull up the schematics and head into the fair to see if I can find a replacement.

Ta'xi left the ship and wandered through the market. Scanning the stalls, Ta'xi saw a fruit stand, the food truck, another stand dealing in foodstuff, and finally, landing on what appeared to be a metal working shop. The Verpine pilot headed over to the metal working shop. Ta'xi examined some of the premade wares, before looking up at the black haired, pale humanoid shopkeeper. "Good wares. I need a replacement shoulder plating for an FA-5 droid, left side. I have the old plating as well as schematics on this datapad,” Ta'xi said pulling a datapad from a pocket in the flight suit, “Can you assist?”

The crystal scarred Arkanian eyed the Verpine as they approached, then the datapad that was offered. He accepted it silently, scrolling on the schematic for the plate for a few seconds. “Valet droid?” He considered it for a few moments, muttering slightly under his breath “Droid work…”

He nodded and set the datapad down, then eyed his pile of scrap. “Anything you want it made out of? I could bend and polish a whole new piece, or maybe repair the crack with a bit of brass if that’s your style. Either way, I’d like to see the old one if you have it on you”

“I wouldn’t call it a fairy tale. Maybe more of a… dark fantasy. It’s an incredible new world, but it’s one filled with more dangers. I’ve been doing my research, I’m safer from those that threatened me before but now… There’s even greater ones.”

“I can protect myself from some things but an entire group dedicated to destroying us to break chains, another one dedicated to destroying us because we have Force users is… a bit out of one person’s scope.” Kerissa chuckled, “I’m learning though, yes. I don’t plan to lag behind in any way, though I already knew quite a bit before hand thankfully.”

“Well apparently it’s not just Selen. The.. Collective, you call them, they’re quieter now but they affected everybody. Seems these new Children folk are a similar sized threat to everybody.”

When Zujenia had mentioned there being a farmer’s market at the Academy, Luka of course had to trail along. Not only did it give them a chance to visit their master and the little ones. The stalls were full of trinkets and other items blooming with warm echoes of their creation. As the Knight’s hand drifted over soft cloth and cold metals, their thoughts drifted to each artisan’s home and the pride and effort poured into each piece.

As their eyes drifted closed to better immerse themself in the babble of memory and talk around them, the crowd distanced themselves from the Nexu that paced at their heel. Bico seemed more interested in the smells wafting from the food stalls. Four beady black orbs stared intently at one stall in particular which prided itself in its barbecue. Though the Nexu stayed to heel, its forked tail thrashed with frustration. She let out a two-toned whine, alerting her master.

Luka glanced down and scratched the top of her head. The nearly three meter long beast looked up and gave a low croon.

“It’s nearly lunchtime, don’t worry.” Luka turned back to the stall to examine a scarf they considered to purchase.

The Nexu let out a low groan as she yawned, showing every tooth in her wide maw.

Luka put a hand on their hip and looked to the beast with furrowed brow. “I’m not caving in this time. I feed you early once, and you’re a nightmare for a week.”

That earned the human a loud yowl in tantrum.

“I think I’m happy staying on a side line then.” Kerissa had commented. She’d spent her entire adult life and on the run from problems like that. The Kessurian mix had no intent of drawing attention to herself like that. Power was useful, but only if you lived long enough to keep it.

She smiled back to the stall owner and looked over the various scarves, sticking primarily those with simple edges but quite dazzling colours. A pastel gradient in particular caught her eye and she reached out to feel the material.

“You were right, these are gorgeous.”

Ta'xi’s antenna bobbed in acknowledgement. Ta'xi’s backpack slid off and hit the floor. Bending over, Ta'xi unzipped a large pocket and slipped out a concave piece of metal. Flipping it over, Ta'xi handed it over while pointing to the joint clamps where a piece of metal had snapped off. “Thank you. How much would a repair cost?” Ta'xi said, slipping a one digit of the right hand into the back right pocket and pulled out a pouch.

The feeling was more sturdy than she expected. That was good though, if it had been as soft as Kerissa had expected then it would have been likely to fall apart at consistent use of it. Which.. was preferably something to avoid if she could. There wasn’t worry of that here.

Kerissa smiled toward the stall owner, “Thank you!”

She held it in her hands, looking at it against her skin. It wouldn’t work with all of her outfits, but it was a nice contrast against her herself. She glanced over toward Erinyes, “That works very well with your hair. I’d say the purple, though. The red would.. blend in more than anything else.”

Kerissa smiled and obliged, swinging the scraf gently over her shoulders and wrapping it over in a comfortable but still pretty placement.

“Yeah?”

“Now you then.” Kerissa motioned her hand in a short but clear motion, keeping it parrelel to the ground but arcing it as if like an ocean wave.

The scarf moved of it’s own accord to any less familiar with the Force, wrapping itself over Erinyes’ shoulders as Kerissa had just done with her own. She grinned, pleased with her self, “I could say the same about you.”

Kerissa laughed softly, shaking her head in amusement but no true exasperation was in her expression.

“Well, that is definitely working to your benefit.”

There was so much going on. So many threads, conversations, happenings. Both now and in the soon to come. Some less soon to come. The future was a pressing weight on Melissa, though those ones were flickers in comparison to others. Her training had been working, while more immediate events still made themselves known she could push away more distant visions. Not that the Echani minded much, so long as she walked slowly and stuck to the edges she wasn’t in anyone’s way. Melissa had been hesistant to come, aware that many of the Brotherhood would be here. Some she knew, sure, but that number was very few at best. The vast majority would be new.

Her hesistancy hadn’t been helped by the consistent concerns Ruka had over her. Especially since the portal testing the Shadow Academy had done where, while to Mela it had been barely a quarter of a day, she had been missing for a week. Well. Not exactly missing. It had been enough to cause more than enough anxiety.

Those had been swept away by the stalls. The smells and sights. Despite any worries she may have of meeting people outside of known circles, it was certainly worth it for the experience as a whole. The produce area in particular took her notice, many of the foods ones she’d only recently been introduced to if at all. Some were familiar, which was enough.

The young woman drifted between the stalls, carrying a fabric bag that on occassional purchases the items were carefully nestled into. The panicked voice of one of the stall owners did attract her interest, but there was nothing unusual going on. The pair who were talking at the stall were.. odd. But it was hard to pick someone out here who wasn’t odd to the Echani. Melissa took her attention back to the stalls, passing from the one she’d been at to one that had bags of spices, standing at the edge and just looking over the names and appearance of the products for now, a contented smile lighting her face.

“I’ll take this,” Kerissa slipped it off of her shoulders so the Mirilian could look it over, her credit chit already in hand, a tad confused by Erinyes’ wording. Did she mean to purchase.. both?

Curious.

Kerissa hesistated to hold hers out, looking to Erinyes, “I can pay for mine. I appreciate the offer but we only met a few minutes ago.”

Mikhail holds the damaged metal piece aloft, inspecting it and considering what exactly his best option was. “I’d have to grind it down… but with some excess metal and the right flux, I should be able to make it at least as reliable as it was before. Certainly enough for a Valet Droid that is.” As he spoke, he turned toward his tech table and collected a few metal wire spools and his Multi-Tool. “Oh and.. no charge. Simple repair like this isn’t a hassle as it is practice.

He clamped the metal plate down and got to work, grinding at the crack that was there until he was satisfied that his tool could work it back closed with some flux. He adjusted his glasses, ensuring they covered his eyes before he got back to work. With his tool he worked wire flux into the crack, melting it down to fill the damage. He occasionally glanced upwards at Ta'xi, realizing he should try to make some sort of conversation. "So.. How did this break? Looks like it received a torque pressure and gave out under it.”

“Ahh, advertising. I’ll make sure to mention the other stuff as well. Make sure you get your moneys worth.”

She waved off the wrapping, taking the scarf and gently rewrapping it back over her shoulders with a smile. It wasn’t a perfect fit to the outfit but oh well. Worth it.

With a glance back to Erinyes, she gave the other woman a grateful nod, “Thank you.”

“Feel free, I won’t complain at the company, though I don’t think we’ll be in luck.” Kerissa chuckled, “Well. Sometimes. But they tend to be out of budget more often than not.”

“Well, if you ever want a business partner. I.. might not know much about business now but I’ve definitely seen a wide range of the issues general clothing seems to have. Neck holes not being big enough for folk with head tails or horns going on, for another. It’d be nice to see something like that pop up. Hopefully for similarly affordable prices as your alcohol.” Kerissa paused, and offered a slight sheepish grin, “I’m a quick learner too.”

“Tree fiddy!”

A rosy colored palm mottled with blue-grey spots was held outstretched over a table of baked goods. Various muffins, an assortment of breads filled with fruits and veggies and nuts, several breeds of cookies, and mouthwatering tarts set as the centerpiece of the wares. But what the white-haired pigtail wearing youth bartered was one of a numerous bracelets made with large flimsiplast multi-hued beads and silver charms. A wide smile beamed on her face with unrestrained excitment after the elderly Twi'lek placed the several creds and decicreds into her hand.

“Thank yoouu!” Shay'lra sang-songed, turning with the creds clenched in her fist and hopping off her stool in her eagerness. The customer seemed to find it endearing, an air of familiarity as if had kids or grandkids of her own, and left to waddle on her way admist the crowd with a smile. Basically bouncing over to the woman accompanying her, a sweet infection sense of joy in the air, the girl showed off the spoils of her trade. “Mum! My first sale! Where’s the box? I gotta put it in the box!”

“Good job, chika!” Zujenia praised with a smile. Her sandy tail swayed as she bent to pull the metal lock box from beneath her seat. As soon as it was unlocked and ajar, those credits were tossed inside with a clatter-clang.

And that was that.

Shay'lra grabbed the couple coloring sheets of flimsiplast, her markers, and flopped down on the ground with her head cushioned by Iarna, the Bleu family’s tuggle. The floral pattern of the girl’s shirt a stark contrast against the white & cream coat of their pet who was nearly twice as long as Shay was tall. Iarna stretched and rolled over to curl around the lass’ shoulders, and Zujenia stretched down to give her a few scritches. .

About three weeks ago, the half-Ryn had heard word of the Farmer’s market from Tahiri and spent the last week prepping for it. Shay'lra’s curiosity had both Kord and her debating bringing the girl along, having their kids on Arx was an uncomfortable thought. However, it was an experience opportunity to teach the girl about money exchanges and allowed her to take her creative outlet in a project direction of her own. Selling bracelets was entirely Shay’s idea. Despite their decision, Zujenia still found herself mildly on edge, a cutely aware of the collapsible stun batons tucked into her pant waist and obscured by the loose lilac blouse she wore.

Still, she missed the boys and partly wished they were here, even though this was not the place for three infants. Whenever they break for lunch, she’ll shoot Kordath a holocall, just to see their faces and how her husband is faring with them handfuls.

Ta'xi’s Antenna bobbed along to the conversation until it was mentioned that there would be no charge. To Ta'xi the concept of not being paid for services rendered was confusing. Having jobs few and far between, being paid was important to the Verpine pilot. Still, they weren’t going to complain about something saving them credits.

“Fave, my co-pilot fell while dusting and hit one of the chairs. Unsure if it was due to prior damage missed.”

“Never designed them specifically no, but I could look into it. I do my own work on my clothes a lot, so I have some base line knowledge in how they usually put things together. We’d need more than just me, I have the tail going on but I’m still pretty close. But… it couldn’t be too hard to put a survey out there right?” Kerissa mused, running her thumb along her scarf.

Mikhail gave a contemplative “Hmm” As he continued working. Within a few minutes the weld was done, but not clean. He took it to his grinder and went to work again, sending sparks flying as he started smoothing the surface of the filled crack. “Almost done” He called over his shoulder, eyes focused on the shape of metal before him.

“Yeah, gather some people. Make a project out of it. Affordable clothing no matter what you’ve got going on body wise.” Kerissa laughed lightly, “Though maybe that won’t be the slogan.”

“Still a bit wordy, but that is a lot better.” Kerissa mused, grey gaze glancing over the various stalls. As they transitioned between clothing and food there were plenty of worksmanship stalls. Including one with active blacksmithing occuring, sparks flying.

She nudged Erinyes, nodding toward it, “I didn’t know people were bringing down their work benches. That’s some nice worksmanship there.”

“Thank you. Fave thanks you as well.” The only movement coming from Ta'xi was the bobbing of their antenna, if one looked closely it appeared rhythmic, when suddenly they stiffened as two people entered the stand. The verpine bobbed its head in the direction of the Zeltron and Kessurian that had just entered, “Hello there. The proprietor of this stand should be with you shortly. How is the fair so far for you?”

Mikhail looked up at the sounds of conversation, not expecting more people to be by so soon. His lips purse, eyebrows furrowing above his glasses. But, he wasn’t quite done yet. He turned his attention back to the grinder in front of him. Once satisfied, he turned the machine head until a polishing face was infront of him. With a quick pass of a polish bar across the spinning fibers he started giving it a final touch up. It wouldn’t be perfectly polished smooth, but there was only so much he could do with his current set up.

It only took another minute for the touch up to be complete. Satisfied, the Arkanian limped back to the front of the stall and handed the metal piece over to the Verpine. “Does that look about right?”

Luka ignored further protesting from the Nexu. After purchasing a new scarf in sunset shades of orange and purple, they made their way to the other stalls. Though it was obvious that Bico wished to pass by the blacksmith in favor of the food stalls beyond, her human lingered. Though the pieces were of fine work, Luka’s appraisal seemed more focused on the man working than what he was selling. As soon as the man turned, however, they would turn their attention to the works on display.

With a gesture from Luka, Bico curled up in a spot at the corner of the stall. There she would not be underfoot. She huffed in annoyance, knowing her master would remain there for a time.

“Some beautiful pieces, here,” Luka mused as they drifted along. The armor didn’t interest them, but the blades and trinkets drew their eye. The curved blade received almost as thorough an appraisal as the artisan that made it.

Ta'xi had, in a moment of tiredness, forgotten that the one who typically handled the people side of the business was the co-pilot: Fave. Hopes that the polite comment would only be viewed as pleasantry not intended for futher communication were suddenly dashed by the Zeltron’s question. Hesitantly, and paired with a resigned tone from Ta'xi’s legs rubbing together, “The Paonga Fresca at the Gungan stall was surprisingly fresh this far from Naboo.”

Thankfully any further discussion of the fair was interrupted by the Arkanian smith finishing their work on the shoulder plating. Gently, yet with a firm grasp, taking the offered piece of metal, Ta'xi examined it. “It appears to be fixed. Fave and I thank you,” Ta'xi said, stuffing the metal into the pack on the floor before putting it back on. Reaching into a chest pocket, Ta'xi pulled out a few cards and handed them out to the three other beings in the tent. “Business card in case you have need of transportation. Here to the end of the Festival.” Each Card read:

Ta'xi transport services For All your civilian transport needs Land and Space Goods and Passengers Your Pilots: Ta'xi and Fave. Comlink code and Pricing available on our holonet channel.

Ta'xi then bowed and began heading back to the shuttle to tend to Fave.

Ro-Tahn continued to think about the very important drink decision in front of him, even though his older sister was incessantly tapping her foot. He knew this was driving her crazy, he even had to pretend to rub his chin just to hide his smirk. “Hmmm, can I mix 2 or 3 flavors?”

“Yes sir, although certain flavors can be very potent, so I would not mix more than three. Do you know which ones you’d like to try together?”

“Mmm, give me just one more moment, I think I’ve narrowed it down 6 flavors.”

The facepalm was audible even over the din of the crowds of people around them, the slight growl being even more evident from the Vornskr sitting by her leg. Tahiri pinched the bridge of her nose, “Ro sigh, will you please just pick a flavor already. We arrived here a little over a half hour ago, and have been standing here for most of it. Come on.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that came out, and as he glanced towards his sister, he barely dodged the punch aimed at his shoulder. Spinning around, he stepped closer to the vendor and quickly placed his order, before turning back to the petite crimson skinned Togrutan woman with her hands on her hips. “OK, ok. See my order is in for a Hoth ice cone, don’t get you Lekku all in a knot,” an innocent goofy grin spread across his face as he stood beside her and gently plopped his arm in the swoop of her Montrals.

“Stop that,” Tahiri shook her head, and then cocked it to the side while moving away from her young taller brother. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she rolled her eyes as the stupid grin spread even wider across his face. She let him get to her, and although most times she would have taken his legs out from under him or jumped on his back to the same effect, she had to hold herself back. They were in public, and were here to greet some friends, so she couldn’t just maul her brother like she normally do. Tahiri also had to keep her emotions in check, due to Zuska being very in tune with her at the moment. “Alright, get your Hoth cone and then let’s go. I sent Zuji a message saying we were going to be at her stall soon right before we landed. I’m sure she’s wondering where we are.”

“No Hiri, I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for you. I don’t know this Zujenia Bleu.”

“Well, yes she is waiting for me, but I told her I was bringing you along, and she wants to meet you. So, I..”

“Don’t want to keep her waiting. I gotcha sis,” Ro-Tahn clicked his tongue and winked at her, just as the vendor called him over. Quickly grabbing his Hoth cone, he turned to Tahiri, with a wide grin on his face, “Okay, let’s go meet your friends.”

Tahiri just rolled her eyes and shook her head at her brother, a smile creeping onto her face “Alright, follow me then.” Patting Zuska on the head, she began walking towards the section of booths where she figured her best friend would have set up in. Although her brother was annoying, he did understand her.

A few minutes later, Ro-Tahn had to stifle his laughter, digging into his Hoth icy cone. It was evident that they were getting close, cause Tahiri was walking with an almost visible skipping motion. With the little atunement to Force that he had, he could unmistakably feel the happiness that flowed from his sister, increasing as they approached a stall with mostly baked goods and then a small display of handmade bracelets. There was a young woman and a little girl sitting on the other side of the stall front. He stood back for a moment, while his sister quickened her step calling out in an enthusiastic call, “HEY ZUJI! HEY SHAY!”

<@244244400488710155> 😁

Mikhail eyed the card, the slipped it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. It was never a bad thing to have another pilot contact. Especially if they had their own ship. He realized, finally, that he was sweating from the heat of the forge. He grabbed a towel from the table behind him and dried his brow, then unbuttoned his jacket. He turned his back on the others to hang it off a hook at his tinkering table. The blue crystal that scarred half of his face evident on the back of his neck and exposed shoulder. It disappeared down his spine under his thin undershirt.

While he organized himself and the station he was just working at, he occasionally glanced at the others at his stall examining his trinkets.

Necklaces, rings, small figurens and paperweights, all ranging in colors, silver, brass, bronze, black. They represented a variety of designs, alien animals, twisting branches and roots to make up a ring, flat symbols and random pleasant shapes to hang from a necklace. A five inch catlike figure ready to pounce, standing next to a larger piece depicting a fight between a rancor and a series of smaller figures made of white shards, stormtroopers. Next to that was Mikhail’s favorite piece, a mechanical “Doll” of an Arkanian Dragon. The winged creature currently rested on the tip of a mountain peak, it’s wings slowly moved as if it was stretching them out, it’s head swiveled in a smooth motion, neck snaking behind it. It was entirely metal, and about the size of a small cat. Below it were a series of small gadgets also for sale, that depicted the dragon head with a switch, or button on it. They were labeled as Plasma lighters. In all of the dragon’s heads, including the doll, the eyes shone. Diamonds appear to have been socketed in them. Even in the doll, who’s eyes shone with a prismatic display as it peered around.

Below the set was a sign reading “Authentic Arkanian Diamonds”

On another table at this booth was a collection of blades, hammers, and an occasional axe. They ranged in looks from practical to decorative, but each of them was just as reliable and deadly as another. There were both traditional and Vibro versions. A paper folded into a V read “free engravings”

The Nexu raised her head as others approached, ever on the alert. Her beady eyes locked onto Erinyes’ gaze while she held it, wide head tilted to the side. A low, guttural chuff issued from its throat before it stood and approached the other attendees. She meant no harm, only seeking attention as she bumped her rather large head against their legs.

“Bico…” Luka scolded before giving Erinyes and Kerissa an apologetic look. “Sorry. She’s a soft one, but a real brat sometimes.”

They turned to the stall briefly as they snapped their fingers in the hope to bring Bico back to heel. “Umm, how much is that curved blade? The one with the black and silver inlays?” Focus torn between a few distractions at once, they seemed a bit distressed.

Bico made it no easier, as they ignored Luka’s attempts to regain their attention.

Flyndt glanced to his right at the green alien that keeps squeaking and ducking behind crates, a brow quirked. His attention shifted just as quickly back to Foxen, to his words. A surprise, a contact for produce. The surprise! Since deciding to wait to hear about it, the Omwati had quickly set brain to forget. A survival tactic. The urge to know would have eaten him alive. Now, he could feel what feathers and pins under his scarf twitch with the instinctive urge to raise in his curiosity.

And he was not the only one curious. A flat, dome-like metallic body peeked up over his shoulder. The lad’s rehabilitated L0-LA Droid bobbing on the metal legs it had clung to Flyndt’s backpack with, not yet able to fly with it’s repulsors. A gloved hand raised to steady M4L-N13S briefly.

“Hrmm,” he considered, tone a much lower rumble than his own. Did the merchant pale hearing that familiar hum echo from another mouth? Then nodded, hand flashing two letters. “O.K., allowed. Can…do now, yes?”

Kerissa had gotten distracted looking over the stalls contents, and that of those nearby. It was all quite fascinating really, she didn’t notice the approach of others nor the ongoing conversation until-

“Oh Kark me what the k-” The Kessurian jumped at the sudden bump against her legs, jumping and quickly calming back down. Ok. A Nexu. Phew. She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a moment before laughing slightly at herself. “Sorry- surprised me a little.”

Oh, good, nobody had pickpocketed the droid yet.

He’d have hated to sully a farmer’s market this sublime with a murder. And then Heeks’ face would get stuck like it was now, obnoxious and terrified and gawping at two hrms, hah.

But any such general awareness of their surroundings was swiftly obliterated when the Omwati flashed, O.K. and granted permission for additional gifting with the surprise. His legs shuddered with the obscene urge to hop in place. Instead, he channeled the motor neurons firing into bringing his hand out from behind his back, kneeling down to offer up the package in at least the barest show of presentation. It wasn’t how he’d planned to do this, in a hodgepodge open-air market aisle between fruit and bread sellers, with nothing but soft black foam for cushioning in transport and a carved wooden container – okay at least Heeks had come through on that part too, but still – but it was what it was. No better moment than now, when they were present, together, and there were no hurts.

Sorry it’s not wrapped, the Nautolan hybrid apologized, pierced brows furrowing and lips pursing. Wanted to. Was going to, asked for something crafted to put them in with preference for carvings, but got this really thick paper too I think you’d have liked tearing up…But…here. I hope they’re alright. H-E-E-K-S is good at his job.

He held the little box of four five koskotos out to Flyndt.

Mikhail eyed the animal at his booth, a slight frown on his face. It wasn’t causing any outright problems, but it seemed to make him a bit wary. “That knife?” He pointed at the knife with a set of tongs. “Let’s say.. 25 credits. It’s pretty, but it’s reliable. Should last you a few years of heavy use. If you take care of it, might be able to pass it to your kid”

He spoke as he readied another piece of metal, pulling one from the jet heaters and replacing it with something else to get warm. He started working the metal right away, using a hammer to flatten and draw the metal out. He glanced at the others as he worked, hammering the red hot metal and sending some sparks flying when he clips the corner of the metal.

The white haired woman behind the stand raised her head and looked about for the source of her name, but more importantly he daughter’s name being uttered. Amber eyes landed on the familiar crimson Togruta bouncing towards them. She gave a big wave before returning to the datapad in her hand.

“I’ll have to catch you later, hun, Tahiri’s here. Love you,” after a couple squished waves to the holocall, the half-Ryn thumbed it closed. She rose to her feet and flowed around her table, well, flowed and caught her hip on the corner but worth it as she spread her arms for a hug.

Shay'lra behind her had perked up and rose from her makeshift tuggle pillow to peer over table. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Vornskr. She started ducking under the table when a sandy tail flicked at the table leg. Eep!

“Remember to ask, Shay,” Zujenia reminded. To which the girl complied and asked.

Kerissa had started looking over the jewellery and while most of it was affordable enough.. she eventually deemed having more shiny things probably not the best idea for her life style.

Erinyes’ voice pulled her attention, grey eyes casting up toward the Zeltron. Oh those were pretty.

“Ohh those are gorgeous. Damn, you have a good eye for this.” She laughed lightly, looking a little more closely at the pairings.

Mikhail continued working on his token. Eventually sticking it back under the heat and swapping it for the other. He worked that one down as well, getting them both to the same general size and shape. He listened to the chatter - what he could hear from behind the anvil.

“No, and the cut of the diamond really shows off its shine just right.” Kerissa commented, “I wasn’t going to buy anything but this flower might have awayed me.”

There was no swords immediately being shown, but there did seem to be a few particularly long, slender boxes behind the display table. On the floor next to them appeared to be holders as well.

The Arkanian stopped mid swing, hammer above his shoulder. He slowly dropped the hammer back onto the anvil, then shifted the heating metal back, so it doesn’t cool but doesn’t over heat. He gently shakes his arm, flicking a bit of sweat onto the ground as he relaxes the hammering muscles. With a rag he cleaned his hands as he approached the table looking at the items they were holding. “Yes? Are you interested in those two?”

Kerissa set it down, “Kriff it, yeah ill take it.”

She sounded exasperated with herself but was smiling as she pulled out her own credit chit.

He nods, still wringing the rag in his hands, cleaning them as he inspected the items they held. “The diamond one will be 15. The other will be 25.” At the questioning about the hilt he nods, thinking for a moment. “I can.. do you want a replica? The original fixed? Or a new one? I can show you a few examples if you’d like”

He accepted the credit chit then pulled out a small journal from his back pocket. He tracked the exchange and payment in it as he spoke. “Bigger gem, brighter, useful for more tech, capable of acting like a light prism when cut right. That’s an Arkanian diamond. Normally, yeah. That alone would be a lot more, regardless of the metalwork. One to three thousand a carat. But you’re in luck, that was sourced by the Kadnikov Kompany™️, so the price is far different more reasonable for you.” He handed the chit back when he was finished. “Some say they’ve even been used in Light Sabers, but.. I can’t confirm that. As far as the blade, If you get me an example of what you’d like it to look like I can do it.”

He looks at the image and flips to the back of his journal. He quickly starts transferring the image to his paper, drawing the design in a few quick sketches from multiple angles, with a written note or two. “Right.. should be easy. Would you rather it nice and light? Or able to take a crushing blow? Something in between perhaps?”

“Have you gone to an Arkanian Smith? What purpose is there in skill if there is no challenge, or struggle. I can make this, it’ll be done within a few weeks. I’ll need your contact information though.”

He pulls his compad out and flips it over to her, letting her enter her info. His kaleidoscope blue eyes shift, swirling to the other person, waiting for their credit chit as well. “Are you ready, ma’am?”

“Mhm.” Kerissa responded, not wanting to get too in the way of the conversation and simply quietly offering out her credit chit to the arkanian,

He copies her information as well, then hands the chin back over. “Did you have any other questions? Custom work perhaps?” He peers over his glasses at her, getting a better look of her and what she might be interested in.

Ta'xi made it back to the ship without much difficulty. “Fave, got the piece fixed.” Fave’s voice came over the intercom, “Oh master, what excellent timing. A client has requested pick-up and their destination is the fair.” Ta'xi headed to the cockpit and headed over to the co-pilot chair where the FA-5 valet droid was sitting. “Great work, Fave. Let’s get your shoulder plate back on and then handle the client request. ” Pulling the plate out of the backpack, Ta'xi had Fave lean forward and then proceeded to afix the repaired plate to the shoulder joint.

An Hour or so later, Ta'xi reapproached the fair’s landing pads, “Dropping off passengers for the fair.” A voice came back, “Landiing pad 2.” Pulling back on the throttle, Ta'xi activated the landing gear and brought the ship down to a rest. “Fave, please let the passengers know they will be disembarking shortly.

Fave’s voice came over the ship’s intercomm system, "Attention passengers of Ta'xi Transportation Services, We have successfully landed at our designation. We will be disembarking shortly, Please make sure to have all your items safely stowed on your person and/or close at hand. Thank you for choosing Ta'xi Transportation Services for all your civilian transport needs.”

Ta'xi slipped out of the chair and opened the cockpit door. Stepping into the passenger area, the Verpine pulled a lever and the door opened, releasing the ramp which extended down to the landing pad. A chiming noise emanated from Ta'xi’s legs and a buzzing joined it seemingly from their back. “Thank you for flying Ta'xi Transport Services and please watch your passage down the ramp. Enjoy the Farmer’s market.”

As soon as Foxen had presented the box, that the light of the sun shining upon Arx fell upon it, did Flyndt’s brow soften and his smile fade. A studied look of recognition and a quiet nostalgia replaced his curiosity, a faint solemness. Reaching one gloved hand out, the olive skin of his thumb brushed against stylized peaks upon a dome carved in the center of the intricate embellishments. Guarding mountains, sheltering rock. Shielding stone.

Sunset orbs pulled away to read Foxen’s gestures, who switches between signing one handed and balancing the lidded container on his knees to use both hands. The Omwati pieced the bits together, strung along the context, used to the man’s accent sans the loss of his finger. Purple fabric shifted as Flyndt shook his head.

“No. It is fine, without paper. Better.” He tapped his leather-clad index finger against the wood with a low, thoughtful, debating hum. “I know this design. Twas crafted by —”

A pause.

He tilted his head to shoot a glance at this Heeks. Presumably the merchant may have met the crafters already but still he was reluctant to share with him. So he tilted his back towards the man, shoulder blocking the closed signing. G-O-N ‘ A-L-A-N-C. Another, smaller pause accompanied by a small thinking click before he mouthed along to his understanding of the gestures. Stone Shielded People. Strong, earth crafters.

Satisfied with himself, he repositioned back and regarded the box again. Fingers felt over the twin crested knob fixed to the lid before finding the lip and slipping into the crack. A soft pop sounded as the light suction of cork broke loose and the contents within were revealed. Flyndt looked up at Foxen with surprise, pleasant and coincidentally timed surprise.

“Koskoto?” .

Inside were five round drupes, most covered in a hard burly husk of a shell and were no bigger than his, maaaybe Foxen’s fist. He did not need to pick up to know he would find three holes at one end, the third nearly squashed by a fold in the shell. Flyndt grabbed one of these out of the box.

“Peye Koskoto, hoo, Little Skull Nut. This one,” he put the first back and grabbed the slightly larger fifth out. It was bare compared to the others and a green-yellow with reddish blotches, “Khaw Koskoto, Big Skull Nut. Although this is not ripe yet. It will be in time.”

The omwati exhaled, palm running along the smooth fruit. From nutrition to making creams and oils, the plant was a prized and beneficial asset of his people. The rough and itchy feather follicles growing back from this last molt…this was a much needed remedy, relief.

A shedding and cleanse ritual for both of them.

<@645466919415054357> Bico leaned into the scritches before Luka could get a word in. “She’s hit or miss with some people. Seems to like you though. The smell of food, definitely. I’ll make sure doesn’t pester you, though. The pawing can get a bit rough.” Luka made a gesture with their hand that got Bico’s attention and she sauntered back to Luka for further scratches. Though she seemed to be kept to heel for the moment, her eyes lingered on Erinyes. A long tongue slathered over a row of sharp teeth.

“25 credits would be excellent,” Luka said after the other transaction was complete. They seemed to be distracted with their attention split between the artisan, the nexu, and the others. Lunch time was quickly approaching, and it didn’t seem like Bico would wait much longer.

“And I think Bico would like something from your stall,” Luka added, pointing towards Erinyes. “Whatever you’ve been working with has her attention.”

Red eyes took in every shift in expression, each gestured letter and mouthed word, his chest kindling with the trust given with that information, just between them. He was vaguely aware of the thud of Heeks’ 56 kg body collapsing when Flyndt went to open the box after Foxen got down on one knee, but didn’t give a shit. If the Rodian had dropped dead, then, well, he’d done his last job with honors.

The Nautolan didn’t smile, not with the Omwati’s own still gone, but the little trill of surprise and delight in his tones, the explanations and no this is better, were encouraging. Perhaps the box was approved of? And the koskotos?

Little skull nut, he repeated back. Big skull nut. That they were even different was critical information, and that one of them was unripe almost damning, but…Flyndt seemed fine with it. There would be time. And besides, having fruits in multiple stages of ripeness made for a more flexible consumption experience. Otherwise the options were gluttony or waste. Spell them for me, later? he asked, memorizing the sound of the words at least.

Foxen waited crouched there unmoving as various humanoids moved about the stalls around them as Flyndt palmed the fruit. He liked to think that normally, his patience would be superior; but the next 52 seconds seemed eternal, and finally he surrendered to the urge to ask just like he would to the slightest touch of those olive hands.

Is this O.K.? He paused, equally for strain in his suboptimal hand as for considering his word choice, and then went on. You are home to me. I wanted to get you some small piece of yours.

Bico perked up at ‘eat’ despite Erinyes’ attempt to keep her calm. Luka placed a hand on the nexu’s head to keep it down. “She’ll take one of those packages. How much would that be?” They kept their tone calm, but it was uncertain how long they’d be able to keep Bico’s attention away from the other stall.

The noise, the sounds, the lights, and the crowds…

On the one hand, it was the perfect environment for blending in. Anders was far too aloof to go looking for him here. He hated events like these, and the Chief Inquisitor was the last person Draca wanted to see. All in all, it was a win-win. All Draca had to do was blend in without drawing attention to himself.

Sounded easy, right?

Anders made damn sure Draca was never on any official Brotherhood records, so being identified by anyone that wasn’t already familiar with the young Jedi was slim at worst, and yet, when he was tasked with infiltrating the Shadow Academy for the sole purpose of acquiring artifacts, this wasn’t what Draca had imagined. He was taken aback by all the stalls and liveliness of the place. Anders had always made it sound like a giant library of sorts. Honestly, it sounded ideal for Draca, a place he could get lost in for hours just reading.

The young Zabrak intended to not indulge in the festival. He was on an assignment, and the longer he lingered, the more likely it would be that he would be seen. Not that it would matter if they didn’t know who he was, but that wasn’t point.

How many actually knew? Would Anders tell them, or would he keep it to himself?

The Father demanded success.

His train of thought was cut off by a loud rumbling. He placed his hands over his stomach. He was soooooo hungry! He hadn’t eaten in about a day, and the smells of food from the stalls were too much to resist. Draca followed his nose, making sure to keep his cloaks hood up.

Better safe than sorry.

As Luka handled the animal, Mikhail picked up the blade and wrapped it in a thin leather. He placed it in a sleek black box filled with soft padding, a silver clasp locks it closed. A small thin metal strip imbedded in the top of the box read Kadnikov in fancy cursive.

The Arkanian held onto the box, watching the interaction play out infront of his stall.

<@645466919415054357> “Thank you so much. I’d go with you, but she’s likely to get into something over there.” They grimaced toward Erinyes, then frowned down at their companion. Bico seemed unperturbed, having laid down once more at the corner of the stall.

As Erinyes left, Luka could feel their face get warm. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to bring along their pet. Though she had been getting more accustomed to people, perhaps they were becoming too comfortable.

“Sorry about that,” Luka murmured as they fished in their pocket for their creds. “How m- right, 25. That seems…” They paused, not sure if they should mention that the artisan was underselling their goods. They were the purchaser, after all.

“You make all of these yourself?” Luka asked, airy tone carrying admiration. “They’re very beautiful. This one I knew I had to have on the spot.” They smiled as they reached out to take the box. <@160141735354171394>

Draca walked further into the market holding his bowl of… whatever this was. What was it, anyways? The broth was hot, just how he liked it, though chunks floated in the middle that was indistinguishable from any meat he had ever eaten before. We’re they vegetables? He couldn’t tell when he took a bite. The vendor didn’t speak basic, and considering how hungry he was, it would have been rude to refuse a bowl when offered.

He was regretting that decision. He did, however, keep his hood up. No sense in letting his identity slip.

He gave the bowl to a droid collecting the trash around the area and proceeded further in. Maybe he was taking a risk, but curiosity was always one of his greatest strengths and shortcomings simultaneously. He saw a booth being manned by a red-headed Zeltron. Why did Draca recognise her in some way. He watched her retrieve some bantha steaks and wander back to a group of individuals.

It dawned on him. One of Taldryan’s former Consuls! Anders had told him about her before!

Kriff! He knew he shouldn’t have wandered further in. What was he thinking!?

‘Stupid, stupid, STUPID!’

He quickly made his way through the crowd, hopefully she hadn’t seen him, or recognised him.

Melissa had continued her aimless wandering, not particularly recognising anybody and easily slipping among the crowd just as unnoticed. Her first time visiting a place like this on Selen had been overwhelming, but now it was quite fun to see all of the people. All the stories. All the potential futures flickering at the corners of focus.

She was drawn from those thoughts as someone brushed by her, hurried in comparison to everyone else. There was no one coming from the direction they’d just come from, it was likely they were just busy but curiosity and mild concern struck. The Echani wandered after them, catching up and asking just loudly enough to heard by the stranger, “Are you okay?”

Her silvery gaze peered up, though she didn’t place herself in front of them so still couldn’t see their face.

Draca froze.

‘Oh no…’

Well done, young Draca. How are you going to get out of this one?

He could practically hear the taunts of his former friend and mentor in his mind. A thousand scenarios flickered through his mind one after another like a holomovie on fast forward.

Capture, interrogation, torture, death.

Those were just some of the possibilities to him. Though, as he stood there, he didn’t hear any further footsteps rushing towards him that were hellbent on his capture.

OK, he could tell his two hearts to STOP trying to explode out of his chest, thank you very much!

Calm, and collected, that was what he was supposed to be. Come on, he was a Jedi. All he had to do, was say he was fine, excuse himself, and be on his merry way.

He turned sideways to fave her. “Yes. I’m fine, thank y-”

He stopped. What he saw with his eyes he could only describe as an angel in the Force. If he were honest with himself, he found her to be incredibly beautiful. He’d never seen hair that shimmered so brightly in the light, and eyes that glimmered like diamonds from a mine in the Outer-Rim. Her skin was unblemished by the rigours of battle and war.

Draca found himself swallowing the lump in his throat as he croaked out the rest of his answer. “T-Thank you. Erm… How are you?”

He physically winced at his answer, mentally facepalming himself. So much for excusing himself…

The Arkanian tracked the transfer of goods like the other two transactions so far. He nodded as he slipped the journal back into his back pocket. “I make them, yes. It’s.. partially a hobby. Most people would rather a blaster in actual combat - perhaps for good reason. But there are those that like older, ancient things. And these are relatively easy to make in comparison to what I’m usually working on.” He gestured behind him towards the partially completed powered armor.

She tilted her head slightly, confused by the struggle he had but quickly shrugging it off. Melissa smiled, looking over the other for a moment. A Zabrak, like some of Ruka’s friends, though he had more hair than the photos she’d seen of those two. Not that she was able to see all of it with his hood up but he looked quite sweet. It was hard not to wonder why he’d been rushing.

Shifting slightly, she clasped her hands in front of her, “I’m glad to hear. You seemed… well. Rushing. Sorry for interrupting.” It felt a little silly now. Melissa internally sighed at herself. She really ought to stop meeting people through randomly approaching them. Even with good intentions. Still, he had returned the question, “I’m doing pretty well myself. The markets lovely, if very busy.”

“Yeah, though, do not get food from a stall hosted by a Rodian a few minutes that way,” Draca pointed in the vague direction of the stall in question. “The host couldn’t speak basic, and I have no idea if what I ate was supposed to be edible…”

He mentally facepalmed himself again. Way to go, Draca. Way to make yourself look like an idiot.

Mikhail blinked. He slowly reached down, selecting a thin durasteel dagger type blade with a plasteel cross guard. The blade was engraved with a wintery scene of a mountain valley covered in trees “Here. Test the sharpness on it.”

Melissa’s gaze followed where he gestured and nodded before returning to him, “I’m guessing it didn’t taste very good then? I’ll make sure to steer clear of it.”

She tried to not, but after a moment the Echani did giggle a little at the idea of him eating something he didn’t even know the identity of. It was quite silly. “I’m sorry, I just- why did you eat it?” Her tone was still coloured with laughter, holding no judgement behind the confusion.

Draca couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips at the sound of her giggling and laughter.

It was… Nice…

“Well, I hadn’t eaten for a full day before coming here, and the smells were really, really good! When you’re that hungry, you aren’t too fussy. The stall wasn’t that busy and… yeah, in hindsight, I can sort of see why.”

Drace rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. That was a pocket full of credits he was never getting back.

“What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ooh, yeah. That makes sense. I’ve had those kind of meals where just because it’s food it tastes good. Hopefully it doesn’t make you sick.” Melissa was more than familiar, smiling still,

She answered openly, “Melissa Luxor.”

Melissa Luxor…

He repeated her name is his mind for a moment until it was filed away into his memory forever.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said honestly.

Unfortunately for Draca, he had apparently disconnected the part of his brain that told him what would cause an awkward situation. Luckily for him, he seemed to be oblivious to it.

For now.

“I’m D…”

He stopped himself. The whole point of him being he was to be incognito. Giving away his name was the absolute last thing he should, no matter how much his twin hearts ached as he looked into her expectant eyes.

He looked away from her, his eyes darting to the floor.

“I’m nobody… nobody important. Sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken with you, and you shouldn’t have spoken with me…”

He turned to leave. He needed to get out of here before he made anymore stupid mistakes.

Melissa frowned, not stepping after him, “No one’s nobody.”

That… was odd. The way he suddenly shut off. That she.. shouldn’t speak with him or him with her. What an odd thing to even say. It wasn’t that she had to or anything, yet it was so strange. There were many things she didn’t understand, in how people acted. The ways of society overall. Was this one of them or was it actually strange?

It was these moments where her lack of an upbringing left her as lost as she had been back then despite being among people now.

“Are.. you sure you’re okay?” She asked again, not wanting to directly question why they shouldn’t be talking. So she didn’t. If he was sure then.. there was nothing more to say she supposed.

“I…”

Dammit! Why did this all have to be so complicated!?

“I… I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just… its a long story.”

Drace then turned back to her. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

He could see the conflict in her, the concern, the worry, the confusion. Draca always had one particular answer for monents like that.

He quickly, but generally, wrapped his arms around her in an embrace, a hug.

“Again, I’m really sorry…”

“You don’t have to be. We only just met.” Melissa commented but did return the hug with an additional gentle pat on his back.

It was all still very strange but at least from his reaction she could surmise that this was an actual strange thing and not just her lack of awareness. That was comforting at least. She was fairly sure hugging strangers was an odd thing too but she was ok with that one.

“But.. if you need to talk, even if it is a long story, I’d be happy to listen. Stories are important.”

“Yeah, stories are important. It’s part of the reason I always wanted to come here,” Draca looked around, and sure enough, not a library in sight. It was typical he decided to come here on the day a kriffing market was happening.

He listened to Melissa, and pondered for a moment if he could really talk to her, to someone about everything? He knew he shouldn’t. There was so much that could go wrong, but his hearts ached to release some of that emotional pain he held within him to himself, longed for that companionship, longed for someone he could be himself around again.

Ultimately, he longed for someone he could trust again.

“I… don’t know why, but I want to tell you, but can you please promise not to tell anyone?”

Melissa pondered it for a few moments. Why would she tell anyone? So she nodded, wondering if the Force had encouraged this meeting as it had so many others for her, before speaking, “I promise it will be between us. We can find somewhere quiet to talk. I promise it on the stars and all the shadows they cast.”

There was pain in his eyes. In the Force around him. She tapped into it on instinct, connecting and finding herself slammed with loneliness. Fear. Nerves. He was struggling with so much all alone. Her heart ached for him. It was that same instinct that led her to step forward and hug him again. His hearts were beating faster, a strange emotion joining the mix that she didn’t quite recognise but at least it was a good one from what she could tell.

Someone had hurt him. Now he was alone. Even if just for a day, if she could help with that she would.

Draca tensed when she hugged him. The physical contact didn’t bother him. He was often tbe one who initiated it, after all, but that was the point. He was never on the receiving end.

Again, it felt… Nice.

Every emotion came crashing through him like a wave on a sandy beach. Betrayal, loneliness, sadness, and weight if it all making his eyes water.

He wrapped his arms back around her and held her gently. He was quite a bit taller than her, sure, but he was in a good position to catch the aroma of her hair. Lavender, if he wasn’t mistaken? He probably was.

For now, he was just content with the hug.

“Thank you…” He mumbled to her.

Melissa held him for a few seconds. He had clearly needed it, despite the openness with which he offered hugs. She pulled back from the Force a few moments before physical withdrawing from the hug.

“You’re welcome. No one should be alone.” She met his eyes, her gaze intense for a few seconds before she glanced away.

Somewhere quiet. She didn’t actually know anywhere but being in the middle of the crowd as someone shorter than most made it less convenient.

“Can you see anywhere we can go?”

There were few places in a crowded marketplace that they could have a private conversation. Realisation then dawned on the young Zabrak. Here he was with an attractive girl, taking her away for a private talk.

He had to force the blush down. He didn’t want her seeing his embarrassment. Luckily, he did know a place that he’d used to scout out the area when he arrived.

“I know a place,” he then grabbed her hand with his, interlocking their fingers.

He didn’t even register tbe action until he did it, going wide-eyed, and hiding how much like a tomato his face was becoming.

‘Be cool, Draca… What the hell is wrong with you!? What are you doing!?’

Melissa couldn’t help but notice his cheeks turning a rather bright red. Her own were flushed, the situation was very sweet and cute. It was odd in many ways. Somewhere, it pinged that she should probably be a little more cautious but he’d given her no reason to worry and considering they were both blushing, they were both probably thinking along the same lines. He was cute.

She went along with him, their hands interwined.

‘Don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact, DON'TMAKEEYECONTACT!’

He made eye contact as he guided Melissa along the various market stalls. He immediately regretted said action, and turned away to hide the redness in his face. It didn’t help that his hearts betrayed him like they had minds of their own. If he wasn’t in perfect health, he could almost swear he was about to have a multi-heart attack. He tried to steady his breathing as they approached what appeared to be a spiral staircase at the edge of the marketplace.

“Up here.”

Draca gentle pulled the Echani along, not hard enough that it felt forced. He did want to give her a chance to let go and leave if she wanted to. He wouldn’t blame her. He was a stranger, after all.

She didn’t.

At tbe top of the spiral staircase was a ledge that overlooked the entire market. From below, you could see every stall, what they were selling, and what they were cooking.

The smells from up here were intoxicating.

“It’s no wonder I got hungry up here,” Draca let go of her hand, sitting down at the edge of the ledge, letting his feet dangle.

The view was quite amazing.

She contently sat beside the stranger, breathing in the array of smells and enjoying the top view of the bustling mass below. To say the kind of people that Ruka warned her worked in this place, it was oddly reminiscent of her birth place.

“I’m amazed you came down. There’s so much to see.” Melissa commented idly, before deciding to ask once again, “What.. is your name?”

“The trick is to keep your hands as far away as possible,” Luka replied with a chuckle. Bico’s eyes were focused on the steak as it was exchanged. A glob of drool dripped from the nexu’s mouth.

Luka held the steak aloft in one hand for a brief moment before they gingerly tossed it into the air. Bico’s enormous hooked claws lashed out and snagged the steak in mid-air. She brought it to her maw and plodded away to bring her prize a further distance from the group. She tore into it ravenously, a low two-toned growl eminating from her chest. Beady eyes surveilled her surroundings. Content, but cautious.

“After a couple nips, you learn. I wouldn’t want anyone else to learn through trial and error, though. She’s a special case with me. Other nexus don’t behave so well.” They spoke as though they had said the same a few times. A beginner’s course on their specific nexu.

Luka retrieved more credits from the pocket of their robes, adding in extra for delivery. “Oh, yes, where are my manners? I am Luka, this is Bico. I am a procurer of beautiful blades…” They held their box aloft between their hands. “…And I train here at the academy from time to time.” They have a warm smile to the two of them with a tilt of their head in greeting.

Draca opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. Damn it, he was hesitating. He knew it, and judging by the look on her face, so did Melissa.

He shifted uncomfortably in place, tapping his feet lightly against the duracrete whilst twiddling with his thumbs. He took a deep breath. Would it matter if she knew his name? What if he was already a wanted enemy?

What would she think?

He had to know, and there was only one way to find out.

“Draca,” he finally said, mustering the courage to speak. “Zul. My name is Draca Zul.”

She smiled. If there was any recognition, then she was a master of deciet.

“Its nice to meet you Draca.”

She held her hand out to shake. It was proper!

And Draca happily took the hand and shook it. OK, so far so good! He was doing well so far.

Go Draca!

“What brings someone like you all the way out here?”

Draca almost blanched at what he had just asked. He did not mean it like that!

“N-Not that you shouldn’t be here! What I mean is, you… erm…”

It was her day off. Why not? The hybrid walked and paused at a few different booths. She had always loved the farmer’s market. Sometimes it was a bit bland, other times you can really see the culture. Other times, there were booths that were worked so hard and a soul was poured into it that it was bare for the world to see.

Speaking of baring the soul. Her bright emerald hues glanced over to a certain young Echani and Zabarak. The corner of her lips curved up into a small smirk.

Ah. To be young and foolish to feelings.

She continued onwards and found herself at Mikhail’s booth. There were few people there as well a Nexu. She paid them no mind while checking the booth out. Weapons. Leaned over, the snow-white-haired female was looking at them closely.

They were exquisite. Her fingertips reached out to one of the daggers as she gently traced it before picking it up and balancing it on her finger. Her eyebrow rose. The hammer work. The details. It was possible that he quenched well too. Too many times weapons had broken from poor quenches. From what she could tell without aggressively testing it, the weapons here were great work.

Melissa seemed confused. A person like what? Though then again she was quite odd, even if the Force was almost common among people in the Brotherhood, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the gift was a peculiar thing.

Oh well.

“Well I haven’t been here before and it seemed a good place to start meeting other people in the Brotherhood. I’m quite new.” She explained.

“Oh?” Draca was genuinely curious. “Do you mind if I ask where you’re from? I’m from Iridonia myself, though…”

He decided to pull down his head, revealing the mullet of hair that extended down to the bottom of his neck. She’d already seen him, and nobody would likely look up here.

“I guess that’s pretty obvious from looking at me,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I.. should imagine so but I’m not very.. Well. I’m learning a lot. I’m from Lahn.” Melissa wasn’t expecting him to have heard of it, so followed up, “It’s in the outer rim but it isn’t very busy, lots of forests though so that was nice. What is Iridonia like?”

“Do you have a card? You might have a repeat customer, here.” They glanced over to Bico.

The Nexu had made short work of the steak, and had laid out on her side with her legs stretched out. A low sound characteristic of a felinx’s purr rumbled in her chest.

What was Iridonia like indeed…

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really know anymore,” Draca noticed the confused look on Melissa’s face. “I left Iridonia when I was eight years old, and I haven’t been back since. I was part of a Jedi Conclave. That’s where I learned to be a Jedi.”

Draca’s face softened, though his eyes become heavy as the smile on his face vanished.

“It’s gone now. They’re all gone. Everyone that was in it, but you should have seen it. Every morning the sun would rise over the mountains, and they would shine like a morning dew on grassland. The land was arid most of the time, and life was hard, but people made farmlands out of the most impossible of places, and when the sunset came, the wind would blow over like a song being sung in tbe breeze. It was beautiful. You just had to know where to look to see it. Not everything is as it appears on the surface…”

Draca’s last sentence hit him harder than he thought as he glanced down, not able to look Melissa in the eye.

He didn’t need to. She shuffled a little closer and placed a gentle hand on his arm. An attempt to anchor him in the present rather than the past.

“It sounds like it was a wonderful place. A blessing that it lives on in your memory.” She said quietly, “Even if what is there today is nothing to what it was back then, it still lives in you. Everything lost has a way of finding itself somewhere else, even if its judt a glimpse.”

Part of Melissa wanted to apologise to him, but she’d heard those. They meant little but sympathy. Not that her words were much more robust but hopefully they could bring him some comfort.

“You remind me of it, you know,” Draca smiled. “Just a little bit. It’s your eyes. They sparkle just like those mountains.”

He caught himself after realising what he had said. “Erm… sorry about that. You must think I’m weird.”

He let out a nervous chuckle.

Melissa’s cheeks turned pink.

“No- well. Maybe a little.” She laughed softly, swinging her legs and looking out over the market “But there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re being kind.”

Draca noticed Melissa’s cheeks turn a rosey tint, his own following after.

They the sound of her laughter was lime a melody in the air. He liked hearing it. His hearts pounded in his chest.

“Lahn sounds beautiful, though.”

‘Just like you.’

Damn, Draca’s thoughts were really betraying him. He just hoped that she wasn’t a natural telepath, or this was going to gey awkward very quickly.

“What is it like there?”

If she was, there was no inclination of it when she used the opportunity to try and help clear her own fluster. It didn’t help she could feel thr Force around them was as warm as her cheeks were.

“I never saw much of it but my home was. We were a small village, in a forest. The trees were dense enough in some places they could block out the sun but we were in a clearing. There.. was a river.” She seemed to hesitate there before carrying on, “And when the seasons changed jt was always a nice surprise. Everything would bloom in the spring before Summer came and gave the hot days to enjoy it. Autumn was.. wonderful. Colourful. Like a rainbow for a ceiling for months before they all fell. It was cold in the twilight months but I still liked it. It wasn’t an easy life but it was simple for the most.”

Not for all.

“I like Autmn, but I think I love spring the most. Flowers come into bloom, and the colours and smells are incredible. It’s warm, but not scorching. It’s just… right, you know? Lahn sounds beautiful. It doesnt surpriseme thats where you were born.”

Draca leaned back, swinging one leg and then the other on the ledge. He always did have issues staying still, but he was enjoying Melissa’s presence. It was the first time in weeks that he’d felt comfortable around someone to the point he could forget about the stress in his life. He didn’t understand why, but she made him feel calm. He didn’t want to leave her side, and wanted to enjoy the moments with her whilst he could.

“So… what brought you to the Brotherhood? Do you have any family or friends?”

He regretted asking it immediately. Partly because she was probably going to ask him the same, and partly because it was quite a personal question, and they were literally strangers with one another.

Wait, were they? Draca was started to feel like he was getting to know her. Here they were, sitting on a ledge, just… talking.

They were surely past the stranger point, right? He cursed Anders for never teaching him the finer points of social interactions.

Among other things…

“Yeah I understand. Its when everything starts afresh again after a long sleep.” She mused, smiling over the scenery. Her eyes lost focus for a few seconds but it didn’t take long before she blinked and returned to the moment.

There were too many things going on to interpret the vision easily here. A sensation of colour and emotion could be applied in so many ways.

Family or friends.

“I do now I’m with the Brotherhood. I was alone for a long time but.. I was found. I knew they were coming a few months before, it was just waiting to see what happened. And now I’m here. I have a family again and a few friends. The Force seemed to know I should end up here. I’m not sure why yet but there’s likely a reason. There often is with the Force isn’t there?”

She chuckled softly, glancing over to him. This was a very different person to the rushing strained stranger that had been going through the market.

“Why were you so stressed down there? I.. could feel it in the Force. The fear.”

Draca smiled whilst she talked. By the Force, he could listen to her talk foe hours. She had a soft lint to her voice that was like morning birds singing in the trees.

The Force really did work in mysterious ways. That was what he’d always been taught. Did it bring them both together for some reason? He couldn’t help but want the answer to that question to be yes.

Then Melissa asked one of her own. The fear came rushing back the moment she mentioned it, and Draca could have sworn she tensed. She felt it. There was no use denying it.

“I’m not… entirely who you think I might be,” he saw the confused look on her face. “Not that I’m lying! I promise, I’m not! I just… I work for some people the Brotherhood doesn’t… really like all that much. I was here to get something for them, and I was worried I would get caught. I did, by you.”

He smiled at her.

Luka gave a tilt of their head as they accepted the card. “You’ve certainly got a lab rat here,” they said. A disgruntled expression crossed their features as Bico perked up at that comment. “Already she’s spoiled.”

“Well. It’s a good thing it was me and not anyone else I suppose. But…” Melissa frowned. Did this mean he was supposed to be a threat? But how could he be?

“What did you come here for? If the Brotherhood isn’t a.. fan of who you work for? It seems like a risk… I should probably tell someone. I won’t. I promised I wouldn’t. But people get hurt from things like this.”

He saw the frown. He hated seeing her distressed, and he fought against his impulse to grab her and hold her. He did not want to seem needy.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone, I promise. I would never…” Draca shook his head. Even after everything the young man had been through, he didn’t seek revenge against Anders, or the Brotherhood.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right. I was basically sent here to learn as much as I could about the Force by the Lightbringers. Maybe find an artifact or two along the way. What better place to learn than the Aurora Collegium of Sciences? I just… didn’t know there would be a market on.”

He looked her in her eyes, placing one hand on top of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I promise. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

“Omnivorous, though it seems mainly by necessity. She hates her vegetables.” Luka rolled their eyes. “Eats just about anything on legs. I had to do a bit of research, myself, as I came by her accidentally. A special case, as she was born in captivity. A runt, too. A meter shorter than most, at least. Though that might also be from malnutrition. Her previous owner was not a kind one.”

They spoke almost clinically, as though well-learned in the topic. Though some details seemed to be glossed over. A twitch in their jaw at their mention of the former master made it seem they were hesitant to expand on that particular topic.

Flyndt paused in handling the larger drupe, sunset eyes flicking back to sanguine. Brow softening, a soft smile was chased back to his lips by a warmth in his chest. A piece of home for being home. Hoo.

“This. This is more than O.K. Thank you, I am happy for this,” he nodded, setting the Khaw Koskoto back in the ornate box. The Omwati gestured for Foxen’s free hand, olive and leather-clad fingers proceeding to spread out the larger palm gently. Stepping closer, he leaned in, a peach hue crossing his features and his gaze averted sheepishly.

“May I,” Flyndt paused before looking back to the Nautolan-Chagrian, his free hand touching fingers to lips and then to his cheekbone, “kiss you?”

The smile that suddenly spread wide and happy over Foxen’s face at I am happy was a crescent curve of white shining from his night dark countenance. The little bubble of their space, gossamer and glimmering and made up not of armor or walls but only their attention being for the other, was warm with shared breath and the heat of a shared blush; the Nautolan’s skin just hid his. But it could be felt, in the skipped heartbeat, pulse-point where their palms touched, hands gently twined.

When shy sunset homed back to his, sanguine crinkled at the edges, tracking yet another one of their gestures, one most precious. Kiss? that one asked, in their kitchen, across the room, in the quiet of the night or blur of morning. Sharp avian eyes picked out the faintest glow of green from Foxen’s cheeks, so pale that the smallest shift of his weight would change the fall of light and shadow from the sunlight around them and burn it away like a mirage over water.

Foxen leaned even closer, their foreheads nearly brushing, and whispered between them while his held hand curled tighter, thumb sweeping over the hole in the back of Flyndt’s glove and dragging at the edge, rubbing circles in bare skin.

“Yes, ner ver-copa,” he murmured, and then, “pl-ease.”

- The Omwati cooed, an adoring little sound, then with a last darting about gaze, lifted his free hand and spread each finger wide and flat to screen them from view. Shielded so, he leaned those last inches in and pressed his tattooed lip to speckled skin.

The sweet touch lingered for a few seconds – Foxen didn’t know how many – before Flyndt pulled back, settling back on his heels and lowering the hand that had hid them to cup the cheek he’d kissed. The Nautolan turned into it easily, sighing out a breath, expression soft and staring at his home. Flyndt cooed again, bristles twitching under his scarf. Bit his lip.

“Again, more kisses, later?” he asked, and felt the larger man rumble, a groan, and a laugh, and a sigh.

Foxen reclaimed his hand with some great regret to sign back.

Whatever you want. I’d love that. Then his fingers folded down, the gesture known now, even lopsided. I love you.

Flyndt smiled again, all peachy stained, and–

A groan sounded from the stall. Green hands flopped around on top of one crate, found purchase on the struts of a crate of oranberries, nearly pulled the whole thing down as the Rodian dragged himself up from the ground. He swayed in place, clutching his head as though dizzy or pained – which given he’d fainted, was likely both, impact with ground approximately 8.0197 kilopond force, estimated Heeks’ scrawny mass and crumpling frame catching him – and looked at them, then groaned.

The Lightbringers. The name rang a bell, one of the factions of the Children of Mortis? She hadn’t heard much about them specifically, Ruka had given her a briefing of everything. The damage they’d done. The awful things they’d wrought with the Force.

Draca had none of that darkness.

She nodded slightly, cautious but she had promised. Now so had he. Melissa couldn’t expect him to trust her if she didn’t extend the same trust. Turning her hand over, she returned the squeeze and nodded.

“I believe you. But you.. you are in danger. If they knew.”

“I’d be captured, interrogated, and probably killed,” Draca’s eyes went heavy. “But I can’t come back, not after everything the Brotherhood did, after everything he did.*”

He wasn’t aware he had started trembling until Melissa squeezed his hand again.

“Sorry, its a… sensitive topic. Thank you, for listening, I mean. It’s good to talk to someone about these things without being judged, and I’m glad it’s you.”

He smiled at her, then quickly looked out over the market place. “Do you have a favourite stall so far? Or somewhere you want to take a look at?”

He? No. He was shaking just at speaking vaguely of it. Maybe another time. “Well it’s like I said. Stories are important.”

Melissa followed the direction of his gaze, looking out over the market, “There’s so many, I saw a lot of them wandering but there is so many. I think I like the craftmen the most but when the food smells so good and there’s so much else being sold it’s hard to pick a favourite. I don’t think I’d want to.”

She was aware their hands were still connected. Her cheeks warmed even as her heart sank.

Ruka would absolutely freak out.

Draca didn’t want to let go. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t. He began to gently make circles with his thumb on her hand to let her know he was there, and that he acknowledged her.

He then surprised her when he leapt to his feet, nearly dragging him with her. “I’ve seen a decent craftsmen stall. How about we go take a look?”

When did he become so brazen? Minutes ago he was worried about getting caught, and now it was like he didn’t have a care in the world.

She really had gotten to him.

Mikhail’s eyes were drawn to the white haired woman that seemingly came out of nowhere while he was distracted with Luka and their pet. His crystal eyes widen for a moment before they settle down. At first glance, she appeared to be partially Arkanian. But between her eyes and skin tone,the calculated chance of that being the case was quite low.

“Welcome. Weapons, jewelry, art. I offer custom pieces as well. If you have any questions, just let me know.” He then gave her space, letting her take a look at what he has at her own pace. He idly returned to the metal he was working before. Now that it was flat and thinner, he took a chisel to start “cutting” the piece into a smaller chunk that he could work with. He did that a few times, making large coin size shapes out of the hot metal.

“Yeah, see? You get your veggies regardless.” Luka placed their hands on their hips as they looked down at Bico. Bico was focused on something going on at another stall and ignored them outright. Luka shook their head and returned their attention to Erinyes.

“Rescued each other a bit. Don’t know where I would be otherwise.” There was a bit of a somber tone, but it was replaced quickly with a warm smile. “Thank you again for the steak. I’ll be keeping an eye out for any new products.” They saluted with the business card in hand. “I won’t keep you, though. Plenty of market to see.”

Melissa let out a soft squeak at the sudden movement but was on her feet as quickly enough. She laughed lightly.

“Sure? If you’re sure. I’ll go.”

The sudden switch was unexpected, not that Melissa was exactly complaining. The energy was infectious, freeing. Despite all he had on his shoulders.

Draca pulled her along gently, all the way back down the stairs and into the crowded marketplace. Her squeak was adorable, and he couldn’t help but snort when he heard it.

He never let go of her hand.

He had watched carefully where her eyes looked for her ideal craftsmen stall, and thank the Force for eidetic memories. He remembered the way just from the vantage point they had.

He kept squeezing her hand, gently letting her know he hadn’t forgotten about her.

Soon enough, they arrived at, what Draca had guessed, was the stall she had been peering at…

It had been one of them. There were many stalls to drift through, though those that held craftmanship had been particularly drawing Melissa’s attention before a certain stranger bristled past less than hour ago.

She looked around once more, unaware of the connotations that could be drawn from a pair of held hands but still finding herself with warm cheeks at feeling the pressure from the squeeze. It was sweet. A reminder of a comforting presence. His aura in the Force was like the spring days he favoured, even if she found solace in the winter such a thing was always welcome.

The stalls were a mix of wood crafting, metal working, various jewels and leathers all being worked or displayed in a variety of styles. Even in just how the stall owners set up the displays was interesting to her, the pieces that were clearly favoured often being on a pedestal in comparison to smaller or less intricate ones.

It was one of the smaller pieces, however, that caught the young Zabrak’s attention. He had suddenly stopped, and Melissa might have accidentally gone ahead without him had she not been holding his hand.

There, on the table, was a necklace, made of wroshyr wood in the centre, suspended by thin, shimmering durasteel chain.

“Lookin’ for your lady friend?” The stall owner grinned at him, a burly Human with a beard the size of his confidence.

“She’s not…” Draca had started, but then stopped, having noticed the necklaces rather unique property.

The Wroshyr wood split in half, allowing one person to keep one half, whilst the other held the other.

Draca slapped down a fistful of credits, causing the store owner to smile happily.

“All yours! It’s hand-crafted from the finest of materials!”

Draca certainly hoped so, otherwise he was out of pocket for no reason, you jerk. The young Zabrak rolled his eyes before letting go of Melissa’s hand, only for a moment, but he already missed the warmth of her fingers interlaced with this.

“I… um… I got you this. I hope that’s OK?” Draca asked sheepishly.

“I-” Melissa looked between Draca, the stall, the necklace. That was a lot of credits. It was also really pretty. Maybe a little much though? She wasn’t sure, almost wanting to ask Cora but knowing she couldn’t.

She was shocked into silence for a few moments but eventually found what felt like the right words to say.

“It’s.. it’s beautiful. But you didn’t have to. We only just met and that.. was a lot of credits. Are you sure it’s okay?” She was worried, flustered. “You don’t need to do any of that.”

“I know, i know,” Draca said. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he had gone too far. Yet, some part of him really wanted to do something for her. Thank the Force that Anders was so frugal with money. It was one of the Chiss’ habits that Draca was actually glad he picked up under his tutelage.

“I wanted you to have something special to remember our day together. Watch…” The wroshyr wood naturally split into two pieces, forming two pendants. “I know I don’t need too, but you know… I guess I wanted to? You know?”

He was a bit flustered himself. Oh, kriff. Maybe he had gone too far.

Her eyes widened at seeing it split. Oh. In a way it made it better, it was for both of them! In another way, it made her all the more flustered. Her cheeks burned red.

“Thank you.” She eventually stuttered out, “I don’t know what to say other than that. I’m glad we both get a piece though, to remember. And I’m sure the pieces will come together again. Hopefully in a less stressful time for you. Even though I’m not sure I’ve done anything special.” Melissa smiled, happy and flustered and confused but genuinely meaning the sentiment. Maybe… maybe he could show her his side of his things. She trusted Ruka but there were so many sides to a story. Being lost in time led to knowing how the threads laid and knotted and fell apart in so many directions, ways and times.

Understanding was key.

“Maybe.. we could meet again in a safer place for you some day?”

She doubted she’d be at risk to the children. None had seen her face and even if they were aware she’d appeared in their place past the portal, she hadn’t done any harm. Maybe…

Draca’s hearts practically stopped beating in his chest, or maybe they moved so fast that he couldn’t tell anymore.

She wanted to see him again!!!

He did hear what she said about not doing anything special, and he didn’t believe that, not for one second.

“But you did do something special. I haven’t felt comfortable around another person in weeks. I didn’t know if I made the right choices with what led me to where I am now, and truthfully, I still don’t,” Draca grimaced. Had he made the right choice? The Children of Mortis, thus far, had not been what he had promised. He struggled to fully accept their ideals and beliefs, something that was no doubt going to become aware to his superiors soon enough.

Assuming that it already hadn’t.

“I know one thing, though. I’m glad it led me to you. You’ve given me something that I lost I’d lost. Hope. Even amongst everything I’ve been through, you gave me that back. So, thank you.”

Draca held her hand again and wandered away so they could speak in private. “We could meet… though the method of doing so is a bit… strange. Its hard to explain. How familiar are you with portals?”

“..I’m glad. The worst thing to lose is hope.” Melissa had responded softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and wandering with him.

“I’ve been through one.” She answered simply, “It was.. a strange place on the otherside. I.. May have been in one of the bases. I didn’t take anything or.. anything but it was a strange experience.”

It had taken Cora a week to get descriptors from her other than strange or weird. They were very apt for the experience, without detailing learning what it felt like to die.

Draca nodded. It seemed there were others that travelled through to the Ethereal Realm. It wasn’t just him and Anders. How far did the Brotherhood’s web go into the Mortis territory? And did The Father know? If he did, did he allow it?

Could he talk to her about it? He wanted to, but he was scared about how she would react. Instead, he chose to answer her statement about her experiences there, blind to the fact he had gotten lost in thought for a moment right in front of her.

“Yeah, it’s a strange place, but you learn to get used to it. It’s like letting yourself free-flow down a river. If you fight against the current, it fights back, but if you let it take you down stream, you learn to become one with it, and it becomes as natural as breathing.”

Melissa wasn’t one to think much of people zoning out. It wasn’t so unusual to her.

“I.. understand that. I followed the flow as best I could. It didn’t lead me to a good place though. I’m not sure if I was supposed to find what I did. It was beautiful though. Like stepping into a dream.”

Evelyn’s face remained stoic when Mikhail turned his attention toward her. When he started to speak, emerald hues glanced upwards towards him as she listened. She gave him a nod to acknowledge she heard him. When he turned away, she watched him carefully. Her eyes slightly widen as she had a curious expression written on her face. She never got to watch the smiths work on chiseling or any kind. They were always already made and displayed. Or when they were working over the forge it was always something they weren’t going to add their craftsmanship into.

Really, most of the time she didn’t have time to watch them. Smithing was long and hard work. Curious, she approached him on his right side but behind and leaned over his shoulder to watch his work.

Tahiri bounced forward and into Zuji’s waiting arms, clasping the woman tightly into a hug for several moments before pulling back a little, “It is sooo good to you, Zuji!” Then pulled the Ryn-hybrid in for another squeeze before letting her go. Glancing down, she smiled and nodded to Shay’s question, “Of course sweety. He should remember you, but let him sniff your hand before you pet just in case.” Sending a quick mental impression to Zuska to not get too excited, she then turned slightly, keeping her right arm wrapped around Zuji’s waist.

“Zuji, I’d like you to officially meet my little brother Ro-Tahn Vang Drakon. Ro, this is my greatest best friend, Zujenia Bleu,” Tahiri smile threatened to split her face as the happiness overflowed.

Zuska wagged his tail as he stood in front of the stall, his sharp eyes taking in both the woman and child, along with the other white creature, all of whose scents were familiar to him. Hearing his alpha speak and then feeling the mental command, he sat down and waited for the child to approach him. He did his best to look non-threatening, letting his tongue hang out and wagging just the main portion of his tail, letting the barb stay limp on ground.

Ro-Tahn, having finished his cone, stepped forward, smiling and reached out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you Zujenia.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Tahiri saw a glimpse of fiery red hair, smiling to herself as she had a suspision as to who that belonged to.

Hearing the familiar voice, her suspicions confirmed, Tahiri grinned and cocked her head to look at Erinyes, “And this is Erinyes Taldrya Ténama, another one of my great friends.” Letting go of Zuji, she spun around and hugged the taller woman. Pulling away, she gestured to the booth, “What you smell is all of Zuji’s wonderful baking.”

Draca listened intently, his entire focus on Melissa. “It’s… strange. It’s like you can see the past, present, and future in a hazy mist all created by the Force. Yet, its all scattered like a jigsaw that needs to be put together. It’s beautiful in its own way. Oh, are you hungry? Looks like we are passing a few food stalls?”

Typical Draca, always putting the needs of others above himself wherever he could.

“I.. saw the future. I got to feel it too. There are some things there that shouldn’t be messed with.”

She was drawn out from an almost zone out by Draca twisting as he looked at the food stalls. She looked as well, silvery eyes glancing over them. She hadn’t eaten yet.

“I could eat, let’s go.”

She led the way over, they couldn’t really continue the talk while around people anyway so Melissa didn’t feel too bad about the sudden switch of conversation to food with him being the one to bring it up.

“Do you have anything in particular you fancy? I would avoid that stall over there with the Rodian, though…”

Draca shuddered, remembering the bowl of… OK, seriously, what in the name of the Nine Corellian Hells was that barely edible bowl of mush? Part of him was naturally curious, and another really didn’t want to find out…

Melissa nodded, heading away from that stall and toward another one that had a variety of noodle dishes.

“Just some blue noodles please!” She called the stall owner once they were close enough and to the front, before Mel looked to Draca, “Do you want anything?”

The Arkanian didn’t seem to notice as she slipped behind his table, and behind him. He simply continued working. He split the coin shaped half way down the middle, then spread the sides apart, “unraveling” the coin. He did this to each of them, letting them heat up under the jet as he worked on the next. With his hammer, he flattened the pieces once more, working them into thick wire like strands of metal. There were easier ways to turn metal to strips, but Mikhail preferred to limit his use of machines and cutting tools. The reverberation of the hammer on metal felt good. Working on something always took his mind off of his issues.

He rounded the wires as best as he could with a hammer, then took three and twisted them together. He formed a ring of the twisted strands. It would need further polishing and finishing, but the major shape was finished. Already, it looked like tree branches twisted together, Interwoven. He took the ring, then grabbed a flask from his tinkering table. Inside was a blueish liquid. He dropped the ring inside, letting the hot metal sizzle out as the liquid darkened. He dropped a few rings into the same liquid, letting them sit.

A loud rumbling, like a static earthquake, was heard by both the young Echani and Zabrak.

The source? Draca’s stomach.

Draca became flustered and red. “Well… I think that answers your question.”

He then burst into laughter, part of it from nervous embarrassment. He really did know how to make himself look silly sometimes, didn’t he?

“I’ll have the same as her, please,” manners were always important to the young man. Hopefully, this would taste a LOT better.

Melissa giggled, handling the credits when asked for them and contently waiting for a few minutes while the noodles were cooked up in a large batch.

Soon enough, the pair had a bowl each.

“I think this will be waaaaaaaaaaay better than what you had earlier.”

Shay'lra barely contained an excited squeal before extending her blue-grey spotted palm to Zuska. The vornskr’s breath tickled her skin and caused her to giggle before she gave him two handed smooshies and rubs to his sleek cheeks and ears. The cream and white fur all curled on the other side of the table finally unfurled and crawled out. Rapid chittering sounded from the tuggle as Iarna spotted the Vornskr and she surged forward to weave between him and Shay, rubbing against both in happy greetings.

Ever so hyper-vigilant, especially with one of her kids present, Zujenia picked up sounds of approaching footsteps, too measured and quiet than those of the passing crowd. Her sandy tail flicked and glanced over her shoulder, noting a Zeltron encroaching. The half-Ryn tensed just slightly before Tahrir pulled away to give the newcomer a hug and introduced them. When the woman was free from the lass’s embrace, Zujenia stepped forward and reached out a hand to shake with a small smile.

“Nice to meet you, Erinyes. I’m Zujenia, and yes that would be the baked goods I made,” she chuffed, “breads, muffins, tarts, etc.”

“Oh, uh, I would love that.” Zujenia nodded, relaxing her shoulders and smiling. “Maybe we could swing over there before we head out later and check them out.”

“Feel free to browse–”

“And bracelets! I’m sellin’ bracelets!” Shay pipped up, stopping her pets long enough to point towards said handmade items.

“Yes, bracelets too.” the half-Ryn chuckled at the young gal’s business harping. She turned back to Erinyes. “I am not too familiar with Taldryan’s home. What types of fruit do you have there?”

“Iarna? Oh, she enjoys fish alot, but please, allow me to pay for that. I am interested in trading for some of those spiceberries. I reckon by name alone they pick a bit of a kick?” Zuji laughed, one part genuinely amused and maybe part awkwardly attempting to brush of her unease of someone offering wares for nothing – even if nothing was in return for her own goods.

And indeed, it was. He could actually taste the wonderful texture of the noodles as the warmth of the broth trickled down his throat. It was a vast improvement over what he had eaten earlier, and thankfully, his stomach approved.

“This isn’t how I imagined today going,” he suddenly said. “Though, I’m glad it did…”

He suddenly stopped, going wide-eyed when he heard two magical words. Two magical words that could freeze even the most heartless in place. He gasped.

Ice.

Cream.

He heard the person at the stall. Ice cream… IT REALLY WAS!

Draca could have sworn he had never eaten anything so fast as the bowl of noodles in his hands. He slurped them down, nearly choking on the broth as it felt like his insides lit on fire. Can you imagine a double-heartburn? Some of it got on the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t care.

It was worth it, and Draca knew the perfect remedy. He started dancing on the spot rapidly, looking back and forth from the stall to the Echani with great speed.

“Theresicecreamoverthereco eonwe'vegottogetsomeNOW!”

The young Zabrak practically wheezed the string of words out of his mouth as he pulled a oerplexed Melissa over to the stall.

<@432543120635461643>

Evelyn watched him carefully. She realized she might’ve gotten a bit too close so she gave him more space and more off to the side. She remained quiet. His demanor was familiar. It reminded her of her second home. When he dropped the first ring into the liquid, her hues glanced back to the table behind her. She grabbed a dagger and and unsheathed it for a moment. She took a closer look.

There it was. The one thing she was looking for.

The blacksmith signature. That name. She had never heard of it but it sounded familiar. As if it was in passing long ago. Shoved the dagger back into the sheathe, she paused for a moment.

“Were or are you part of a military?” Evelyn asked directly.

Melissa squeaked as Draca suddenly bee lined for ice cream.

She didn’t mind it, but certainly was surprised to be suddenly pulled that way. After a moment though she was laughing quietly, having managed to hold onto her food and waiting until he came to a halt before continuing to try and eat.

Mikhail’s back straightened at the question as if he was momentarily taken off guard. He turned to eye the woman again, giving her another look over before answering. “I was.” He looked down at the dagger she held, eyes focused on something far past it. He was silent for a moment before he turned back to his work.

He idly continued his work, not making much progress as his mind was turned towards other things. As he shifted back over to his tinkering table, the ghost of a limp he had grew slightly more pronounced.

Evelyn watched him carefully when his back straightened. That was almost perfect military posture. Their eyes met. She would be leaning against the table with her arms crossed. The way she handled herself, he would get the impression that she was part of a military too. Or rather, is.

Evelyn turned and placed the dagger back onto the table. She decided it was best to leave him be. This festival, after all, would have mixture of different clans and Evelyn knew better than to pry or have someone else business pry into hers. She doesn’t know who the smith was or where he hailed from.

“It’s good work. Good day.” She spoke softly while headed out and to look at other booths.

“All you can eat Ice Cream right he-”

The stall vendor, a burly looking Togorian, eyed the arriving pair suspiciously. In particular, he seemed to look Draca up and down. The stall itself bared the insignia of Taldryan upon it, which Draca might have noticed if he wasn’t in an Ice Cream craving frenzy.

“Say, haven’t I seen you before somewhere? You look awfully familiar…”

Draca went wide-eyed, going still as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

‘Oh no…’

“Come on, mama!” A little twi’lek girl shouted as she dragged a much, much taller firrerreo along with her. “I wanna see what’s making all the loud bangs and clangs!”

“The bangs and clangs aren’t going anywhere, Sulla, so let’s slow down. We’ll be there soon,” Ellisyn said to her adoptive daughter, a soft smile adorning her lips. She used her free hand to floof up her mane of black and wine hair and adjusted her matching cropped burgundy jacket to cover more of the black shirt underneath.

“Hold on, sweetie,” Elly said, pulling Sulla to a stop and kneeling down to look over her. It was a habit that she couldn’t for the life of her get over, but it quelled the fear of her somehow being harmed. She flattened out Sulla’s deep brown jacket and brushed a hand over her amber lekku. “Gotta make sure we’re looking our best, right?”

Sulla rolled her eyes and giggled a little bit, allowing her mother to do her thing, though she had no idea why she did it. Her jacket always looked good, after all! Though, Elly always thought it was off, somehow. “Yes, mama, can we go now?”

“Sure, sweetie, I think we’re almost there anyway.” Elly smiled before standing up and dusting off her black denim pants before continuing their journey.

And just like Elly had said, they had made it to what seemed to be a forge in no time at all. They watched a snowy-haired woman depart the stand soon before they arrived. The two-person party looked over the wares with rapt attention. Though neither was born into the clan, the pair shared the Kendis clan’s love of sharp things and were drawn near immediately to the blades.

“You made all of these, then?” Elly asked the Arkanian behind the counter

<@160141735354171394>

“We’re new.” Melissa answered smoothly. It wasn’t a lie, it was both their first time at the academy she was fairly sure.

“What flavours do you have?” She smiled, confident as ever.

“I did. Everything is hand made, and I can do some custom work. A ring, a bracelet, necklace, whatever you might want.” His glowing crystal eyes raised to the two that arrived, giving them a quick look over as he gestured to the tables of jewelry and blades, in addition to the small sculptures.

“If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” He started cleaning his work space of the metal scraps from his last project, working on the rings.

The Togorian seemed to eye Draca suspiciously for a moment, but shrugged, instead turning to Melissa, who appeared to be the more vocal client.

“Well, we have Nectrose Freeze, Light Side, Dark Side, Blue Moon, oh, and our special blend, Tiger-Stripe.”

‘Those… aren’t flavours.’ Draca thought to himself. He was curious to see what Melissa would pick, however.

“Oooh tiger stripe? Could we have some of that, and a scoop of blue moon?”

Melissa has no idea what any of these things meant but picking between the light side and dark side felt strange to do.

And there he saw it. Was it simple? Absolutely. Did he care? Absolutely not.

They even sold the little chocolates that they put into it, and sprinkles too!? Today was really his lucky day!

I’ll take a strawberry with a chocolate piece in it, please,“ Draca said. He took the remainder of his credits and placed them on the table for the vendor to collect. Melissa had paid for the last one, it was only fair he picked up the ice cream.

He picked up his ice cream, and his eyes lit up, sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. When was the last time he had one? He couldn’t remember. He was so disheartened when he found out he couldn’t make ice cream with the Force that he practically begged Anders to have a machine installed on the ship specifically to make bowls of the stuff at the push of a button.

The answer was a no…

Well, jokes on him, he could have one when he wanted now! No more "My ship, my rules.”

He tbdn took note of the Tiger-Stripe that was handed to Melissa. What was even in it? He had to wonder. He peered closer, completely oblivious how close his cheek was to hers…

<@432543120635461643>

When Wenet heard about the Fresher’s fair and farmer’s market she had responded with a furrowed brow “why in the galaxy would I wanna go there?” Growing up on Kushibah, she had her fair share or farmer’s markets. Pretty much every Kushibah was either a farmer or a weaver or both like her family. And Wenet never cared for that life, she had always dreamed about leaving her home.

But as the days past, her curiosity grew. So, when the day of the festival arrived the young bunny rabbit decided to go “just to have a look” she had told herself.

Not that there was any time for a cute moment as Melissa took a big bite of the ice cream.

Bite.

She giggled, going through the ritual of trying to warm her mouth up now her teeth were freezing but seemingly enjoying the taste. Probably? Sure! The Echani couldn’t identify all the elemnts, espeically not while dealing with the downside of cronching the icecream.

Ruka had introduced her to the stuff before and while Melissa knew you should lick an icecream, she found the alternative quite fun too on occassion. About when she’d left it long enough to forget quite how cold it was when she did that.

Drac watched her suddenly scrunch her face as her teeth dug into the cold substance. He tried to fight the urge to laugh, he really did! But it was a feeble attempt that resulted in him snorting through his nose.

He heard Melissa giggle, and then he couldn’t stop himself. Lahn needed to be looked after if there were gems like her coming from there.

“Was it a bit cold?” Draca asked, a huge smile on his face.

“Mama,” The little twi’lek craned her neck to look up at her mother, who looked back down at her to listen. “I want a knife,” She stated with childlike confidence. Sulla’s words made Ellisyn grin and shake her head.

The taller of the two looked away from her daughter and towards Mikhaill. “I don’t suppose you could make an extremely blunt knife? Preferably something with a mostly square tip so she can’t stab me.”

“Mhm!” Melissa hummed through clenched teeth, bouncing on her feet as she finally got through the ice cream, and then bust out laughing.

His laughter was infectious and shed already been on the brink, so the snort really set her off once she didn’t have a mouthful of COLD.

They burst into raucous laughter, and they laughed so hard that it hurt.

Then, he stopped.

He couldn’t remember the last time he gad laughed, truly laughed, and allowed himself to let his guard down enough to let another into his hearts.

“I failed at the first hurdle,” he said to himself, shaking his head lightly.

Melissa had caught what he had said, and naturally, she appeared confused.

“I promised myself I’d never get attatched to anyone so easily ever again after what happened to me. I… struggle to trust people now. I look at people that pass me like they are about to plunge daggers onto my back, but you… I don’t know. I don’t feel that way about you. I feel at ease around you, and I can’t explain why. I’m sort of scared actually…”

Sometimes, he just needed to speak and get his thoughts out. He hadn’t realised that he’d gained a far away look in his eyes and had tensed his body. It was slight, but definitely noticeable.

“I could do that, yes. Do you have one in particular I could dull for you?” He gestures to the array of blades; traditional, Vibro, cheap and basic, exotic and ornamental. “Anyone of those I can fix for you rather easily, if you’d like.”

So many had caught her eye but so few as well. She still didn’t mind. It was her day off.

She heard laughter as her hues glanced over towards the melodious sound. It was a sound she doesn’t hear often so she felt at ease and pace.

Ooh, an ice cream booth.

Then she saw the young female from earlier that’s with the Zabarak eat the ice cream. Not lick. Full on bite.

Her lips winced in pain as her nerves flared up in memory of biting down the ice cream. With a slow exhale through her nostrils she made her way over to the next booth.

“Well. I’m not going to do anything.” Melissa assured, frowning softly. “But you don’t have to trust me either. We did only just meet after all. Time is a wonderful thing sometimes. For healing, that is.”

“That’s the thing, I do trust you, and I want to keep trusting you, but…” Draca hesitated, swallowing the lump in his throat. “The most important person in my life emotionally and mentally scarred me. He lied to me, and was responsible for the worst trauma in my life. If I can’t trust him anymore, then who can I trust? Why am I even here? What purpose do I serve? Whats to stop it from happening again?”

He stopped, taking a deep breath. His smile was long gone now, being replaced by an intense, focused look.

“What should I do…?”

“You could stop. But you can keep trying. The Force.. it knows things. It only tells us little pieces here and there but we are here with it’s guidance.” Melissa spoke with a quiet confidence, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “Sometimes the smallest moments are just a ripple of something larger to come.”

A vision of a green skinned man, lost in silver. Lost to the river. Afraid of soemthing. In anguist, pain, hope. Kindness.

That ripple was now why she was here. Among many of her own. Safe. Home. Yet it didn’t mean that she wasn’t her own ripple. There were so many, overlapping, redirecting, ending. A web that tangled and wove and bore free in a cycle of futures colliding. One could ride the waves but it wouldn’t lead anywhere on it’s own.

“One person can make such a huge difference in a life but they aren’t all that leads us. We have to take charge as well, eventually.”

Draca listened to each word. Taking charge. He tried. He gad taken charge of his own life, and it had seemingly led him from tbe clutches of one master into another.

No, he shook that thought from his mind. The Children of Mortis were better. They were better than Anders. They had to be.

“It feels like every decision I’ve made has been a bad one since I tried to take control myself. It can’t be all bad if I net you, though. Right?”

“Hrmm,” Flyndt considered the Rodian, easing his gaze a bit and only just a bit. Part of him wanted to interrogate the merchant on his experience on Omwat, to ensure he did not treat his people poorly or maliciously. Yet, Foxen stated he had the spine of a snail, which do not have spines so he is spineless. The Han'duwil would have had no issues dealing with him if there has been ill-intent.

“Thank you,” Flyndt nodded his head in both greeting and gratitude, “For gathering these goods. Hope was prosperous trade on all ends.”

Turning away and content on leaving the interaction as that, he nodded again to Foxen. “Can show knives. They are in artisan section north of here.”

“I hope so.” Melissa smiled slightly, before pointing out “Though that isn’t a decision either.”

She paused before shrugging, “It doesn’t sound like you’ve had much time to make many decisions at all. I know I’m still working it all out, it sounds like you are too. You have to fall off a few tree branches before you’ll make it to the top.”

That was a quite a literal lesson she’d learned.

“Whoever said that sounds very wise,” Draca said, letting the words sink in. “Who was it?”

He made sure to eat his ice cream. Like hell he was letting it melt before it hit his stomach.

“Oh- Well. Me?” Melissa looked rather sheepish, her cheeks flushing slightly, “We had a lot of trees. I was on my own so, y'know, trees. It’s hard to work out which ones are actually safe to climb on at first, I’ve fallen out of a lot of trees.”

She licked the icecream this time, evidently contented by the initial chomp.

Damn it, Melissa was really cute when she was flustered. He liked the way her cheeks reddened as she went just that little bit timid.

Though, he did decide to give her a reprieve.

“Huh. You know, I had to use trees for my training a few times,” Draca said off-handedly.

“It’s a really good skill, there’s all sorts of birds that nest up there too. I tried to never take too many eggs but it was good food.” She commented, taking the oppurtunity to skip past that a little, “Was it for physical training or hiding?”

“Physical, though sometimes I wish it was hiding,” Draca chuckled lightly at his own joke. “My… Master, I guess you could call him, he was strict. He had me practice bouncing off of them when I was learning the fundamentals of Ataru and K'thri. He wasn’t satisfied until I could successfully push myself off and backflip. I lost count of how many times I… fell on my rear.”

Draca rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Was foraging for food something you had to do often?”

“That.. sounds intense wow. So you can backflip?” Melissa smiled, amused at the idea though admittedly a touch concerned. Jumping out of trees like that was dangerous, though if his master was there maybe he was safe? Though from the sounds of it, his master was a rather terrible person.

“Yeah. I had enough food usually but anything extra, or if it was really cold or if something got spoiled or into the food, then I’d have to forage. I can hunt too! Nothing big but small things.”

“Backflip, frontflip, cartwheel…” Draca began listing them off one by one on his hands. “Some are Force assisted, some aren’t. I can show you if you want?

“Maybe not in a busy market.” Melissa quickly said, not entirely sure he wouldn’t just go for it, “Later though. That sounds really cool. I can uh, make things float? I guess.”

She giggled a little.

Make things float? Did she mean…

“You mean like this?”

With a single hand gesture, what remained of Draca’s ice cream cone floated in front of her face.

“Yeah!” Melissa nodded, “I can make a really big flash as well. Hurts the eyes so it works really well against predators and stuff.”

Mel lifted her own icecream, floating it with a wave of her hand.

“A flash!? That’s really impressive! I can’t do that. I’d love to see-”

Unfortunately, Draca was so distracted by his own enthusiasm that he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing with the ice creams. His crashed into hers, and they both fell to the floor in a cold, multi-coloured mess.

“Aww…” Draca said, suddenly crestfallen.

“Oops.” Melissa said as she watched them arc into the dirt. She looked over to Draca, seeing his expression drop and giving him a gently nudge with her elbow, “We can get more, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s OK,” truth be told, he was disappointed about the Ice Cream. It was certainly delicious, but such was the way of the Force, at least according to Melissa.

He took comfort by doing the first thing that came to mind;

He held her hand again.

Even now, he couldn’t explain why he enjoyed doing it, and at the same time, he worried about her rejecting him. It gave him.a sense of warmth from her he’d never experienced before. It made him confident, and yes, perhaps reckless if his behaviour up till now was any indicator.

“So, do you have any family? Anyone looking after you?”

He mentally slapped himself. By the Force, she wasn’t a child!

“Uhm… sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” Melissa tilted her head slightly, holding his hand back and looking a touch confused by his follow up reaction to.. his own comment?

“I do now yeah, Ruka and Cora. They’ve taken me in thankfully, it’s why I’m in the Brotherhood now. Do.. you have anyone?”

“I thought I was treating you like a child. Ruka and Cora… where have I heard those names before…”

Sraca placed his hand under his chin as the memories came flooding back to him. Dossiers. So many dossiers. Anders had him read the ones concerning Brotherhood leadership from the Council down to the Clans.

‘The Arconan Shadow Scion? Then she’s definitely in good hands.’

From what he understood, Ruka was practically obsessive over his family. In a good way.

“Not anymore,” he gave her a smile, trying to hide his sadness. “I’m part of… Well… you know… but I wouldn’t say they look out for me. I’m left to my own devices unless they need me, or want to teach me something. I just come through those portals when that happens.”

“From Arcona probably.” Melissa stated, no hesitation to her. She wasn’t sure if he’d know that, but it seemed a lot of people knew about each other here.

She frowned, “If they’re supposed to be helping you, why aren’t they looking out for you? That seems wrong.”

Draca shrugged. “I’m capable of looking after myself if I need too. The portals can take me back once I know where to take it from.”

“I’m capable of looking after myself too. Foraging.” She raised her hands, wiggling her fingers. It didn’t really mean anything.

“Doesn’t mean you should be alone. I was, its better now I’m not.”

Draca went stone cold silent. Those words hit him a lot harder than he expected.

“I don’t want to be alone…”

“You don’t have to be. I’ll be your friend.” She gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“But.. if they’re saying you’re one of them. But you’re still alone… Id think somethings up.” She said, simply despite the gravity of the statement.

Heeks, the absolutely broken little wind instrument of suffering, stuttered some and sort of…bowed to Flyndt’s turned back, gaze darting to Foxen in panicked question as if that was the only thing he could think of but knew better than. Looked more like being hit in the stomach. Rolling his eyes, Foxen smiled at his longtime business partner, who swore quietly at him, knowing this time it was all deliberate. A wave indicated goodbye/later conversation, and the hybrid turned his smile, and full attention, back to his Omwati already ready to move.

Knives with you sound perfect, he affirmed, and paused to pack Flyndt’s chest and koskotos away in the bag he’d brought with them, carefully settilng it across his back to balance the weight/position of the structure upright. Another kind of receptacle would be more ideal, but he hadn’t been certain Heeks would actually have the gift today. Precious cargo in tow, he looked back to Flyndt, then looked north, considering.

Can I, he began, measuring the grace of an already-granted kiss and deciding fully on selfishness, hold your hand while we walk? Or too public? Fine either way.

“Maybe…” Draca squeezed her hand back. It was something he never wanted to let go. “Right now, though. I have nowhere else I can go. I’m an outcast now. Like I said earlier, it might be dangerous, but I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to. I never want to hurt anyone…”

Especially you.

Those two words peered into the forefront of his consciousness as he gazed into the silver sheen of Melissa’s eyes.

“Well maybe that’s the next thing you should do. Work out where home is?” Melissa suggested gently, looking up to meet his eyes and finding him looking very intently into hers.

Her cheeks flushed. He was very sweet, though a part of her wondered how many lessons in properiety she would get from Cora.

Home…

Maybe that was something he should strive for one day?

“Maybe at some point, but not now. I can’t,” he couldn’t stomach the thought of her getting hurt because of him, which led him to his next train of thought. “Listen, can I talk to you about something? In private?”

“Sure.” Melissa nodded, a little confused but the last private talk hadn’t been bad. She wasn’t sure why she’d say no this time.

Draca pulled her gently back up the spiral staircase, back to what was officially becoming their own private balcony overlooking the market.

Once they were alone, he began pacing, trying to think of the words to say. “I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m telling you this because I want nothing to happen to you. The Children of Mortis, they’re up to something.”

Melissa stood close by, glancing over the market as he gathered his words before looking back to him.

She frowned lightly.

“Up to something? Like… bad?”

Ruka had mentioned something was coming. Her own visions recently had suggested the same. Pain. Fear. It lingered on the horizon like the clouds did, obscuring anything beautiful beneath it.

“I don’t know,” Draca was at least honest with her. “I only joined recently, and because of my former affiliation, they are reluctant to tell me anything, at least until its about to happen.”

“Well. We.. know somethings up. I don’t know details, just what I’ve been seeing. People are gonna get hurt. I was.. hoping it wouldn’t happen. Not all of my visions do.” She frowned. Why was it often the worst ones that did happen? Or maybe she just had a lot of bad things happen. The biggest good vision she had did happen after all.

It still felt unfair.

“Thank you, for being honest.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I wish I could be more helpful. I’m telling you this so you can help keep everyone around you safe, including yourself. If there’s one thing I know about the Force, it’s that nothing is set in stone. The future can be changed, even if its only a little. Helping a little is better than not being able to help at all.”

“I know. Even this might have changed a.. lot. But I still am grateful. You don’t have to, it might get you in trouble if they found out you had mentioned even just this.” She pointed out, rubbing her arm. Melissa hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble. Theyd hurt him.. she was curious about the group but the more she heard, now from someone in their fold.. it was worrisome.

“It doesn’t matter about me. I care about you, and making sure you, and anyone innocent doesn’t get hurt. The Brotherhood is wrong on many things, but I don’t want to see anyone get hurt…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be OK.”

“Well I don’t want you to get hurt. Anyone. So.. I guess we’re both on the same page at least.” Melissa sighed softly, looking up into his eyes. “Maybe we could work together? To try and protect people?”

He stiffened, his hearts pounding harder. Oh, how he wanted to accept.

“Meli,” he said, giving her a pet name. “It’s dangerous. You could get hurt and… I’d never forgive myself if something bad happened to you.”

“I can protect myself. I can make this… barrier thing too. Turn invisible if I’m still. I’m learning the lightsaber and I’ve been through one of the portals before. I can help.” Melissa spoke with a firmness. A serious determination and confidence. Perhaps one she hadn’t earned yet.

Draca opened his mouth to speak, then promptly shut it. He was convicted, and his two hearts felt like they were in an endless war with one another.

On the one hand, he wanted to accept her help without question because it meant he’d get to spend more time with her.

On the other hand, he really did not want her getting into harms way. There was that protective side of him that wanted to protect her, not just because he was a Jedi, but because… because…

He’d never felt this way about someone before.

“How much training have you had?” He reluctantly asked.

“Not.. a lot. I learned most of it myself. Ruka has been training me, I’ve been around here for… 6 moons? Something around that. Maybe a little less. Ive been practising for a lot of that time. I don’t want to fight. Just.. help.”

Melissa bit her lip. She knew she wasn’t prepared for an all out battle but she could defend herself dammit.

“I’ll be involved either way. I won’t stay at home while my family fights for me and their kids. For our safety. I want to protect it too and I will.”

He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then an idea came to light.

“OK, hopefully, you wont have to fight… I have no idea how powerful you are, but I suppose I’ll find out soon enough,” he smiled at her. “The portals act as gateways between dimensions. Depending on the will of those who summon them, it can bring into this realm wherever you want. It’s a two-way system. I can… show you one, if you like? I don’t exactly understand how it works, but you can at least inform others what they look like so they can be prepared and get innocents out of the way. How does that sound?”

“I’ve been through one before. We.. have a way. Im not sure how it works either but we know. I know.”

Melissa assured and then paused, asking “I wouldn’t mind seeing one though. With someone to guide. My trip was rather peculiar.”

“Then… I can show you, if you want?” Draca asked sheepishly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened on your first trip there?”

“There.. was a field. But it was sand instead of grass. It was quite fascinating. I found a base, snuck around. There was.. something there. I wanted to find it but when I did it wasn’t… very nice.” Melissa shuddered slightly. “I.. think I was okay but it was a very strange experience. It was a mirror. It was hidden away, the children were doing some tests with it but I didn’t have time to read anything. I left after that.”

“Probably for the best that you left when you did. Who knows what that mirror would have done…”

Draca placed a hand under his chin and started pacing back and forth.

“I’ve seen glimpses of things, maybe reflections in the Force that are like gateways to times and places, but if that’s the case, why? Why would the Children of Mortis need to do that? When I went there, it was a completely different experience. I had the whole truth revealed to me about what happened when the Jedi I was with were destroyed. Is the Ethereal Realm different for each person that steps in it?”

He continued to pace, asking questions to himself without answering them.

“Well. It. Uhm- I found out.” Melissa said awkwardly, rubbing her arm before hurriedly changing the topic. “I don’t really know. I guess I’d need to go with you. Maybe I just arrived in a different area? It seemed.. quiet. The base didn’t have many people in it.”

Meanwhile, in Dajorra

Ruka stilled mid-motion of flipping a pancake, and the batter that had been pouring with his other hand, telekinetically lifted, dropped to the stove as violet eyes flickered and filmed over. The clatter and spatter of batter was the only indication besides his soft, sharp inhale, but his family was close enough to see it.

“Papi?” Leda exclaimed, while drops of the batter that had fallen on the burner itself rapidly began to blacken and smoke. Between the teenagers sitting on the barstools at the counter with their homework, Sivall set down her own studies and stood quickly in concern, gripping the hem of one beige sleeve on her butter-soft sweater tightly.

“Ay, Papi!” Noga snapped, louder, and Corazon suddenly darted in from the adjoining living room where he had been sitting. He hushed gently, then quickly but gently moved his stock-still husband out of the way, turning off the stove and using another spatula – Ruka had a death grip on his – to scrap off the charcoaling bits right quick. He could barely cook, but he was rather competent now at cleaning up almost-house fires from his attempts. The rest of the mess could wait.

- “It’s alright, he’s just having a vision,” the Pantoran soothed over his shoulder. It wasn’t as though any of their children hadn’t seen it before, reacted before, but they weren’t usually so sudden or during the day. More and more recently, this had been happening; something was coming, they knew. Melissa and Ruka talked about their dreams near every eveninig now. Golden eyes fixed on purple ones whited out, rolled back, waiting and trying not to worry.

Moments that seemed forever passed, and then Ruka shuddered and slumped, bracing himself on Cora and the counter. He exhaled hard, and when he blinked and looked to his partner again, his tattooed, scarred face was etched in deep worry, a match to the gray hairs they’d started finding in his locs.

“What is it, angel?”

“I…Mela. I think. Going somewhere. With stranger. Alone? No. I…Portals.” There were so many portals in his visions now. “She’s. I can’t reach her, Cor, I can’t reach her.”

The growing panic in his husband’s voice made Cora hush. “Now now, she’s alright, she’s at that market, having a grand time. We can call her after we clean up, no?”

“Yeah…ay…ay…maybe. Maybe, not wait.”

“She needs her own space too, Ru-honey. Did this feel like a threat?”

“I just…I dunno.”

“Then let’s clean up.”

“We’ll help,” Leda volunteered, and the other Tenbriss Ya-irs immediately came to join in.

The call put off…for now.

“Do you want to come with me?”

It was a simple question, but it held a lot of meaning behind it.

1) Are you sure you want to travel with someone you just met?

2) When said person is a known enemy of the Brotherhood?

3) To a territory owned by said enemies of the Brotherhood?

All of that meaning went directly over Melissa’s head.

He was a friend. She knew it could be dangerous where they were going but she’d be with a friend. Melissa doubted it could go any worse than last time.

She spoke with full confidence and sincerity, “Yes.”

Draca smiled at her, taking her hand in his, intertwining his fingers in hers, making his cheeks redden. “Follow me.”

He directed her back down into the market, although this time, they weren’t heading into the heart of the Collegium. They headed far into the outskirts where no-one dared to tread. Isolated, damp, and cold. The zir around them sent shivers down Draca’s spine.

“Ready?” he had to ask. He had to be sure.

Elly and Sulla perused the various blades across the table. Elly’s eyes were immediately drawn towards the cheaper yet reliable fixed blades while Sulla was drawn in by the fancy looking ones with ornate designs. The littler of the two pointed out a blade covered in intricate lines “Mama can I have that one?”

Elly looked to where her daughter was pointing and immediately cringed. The craftsmanship looked to be impeccable, which was never good for her wallet.

She looked to Mikhail “How much for the fancy looking one?” Her voice was hesitant

Melissa looked around. It had taken a few minutes to travel to the border of this place, where it was clear why no one particularly explored this planet. It was as if nothing was here yet…

“One minute.”

Might be a little late home. The market is really fun, I've made a friend too! Love you guys

She added a few of the random emojis she thought were cute and sent the message. The last thing Ruka needed was to worry more. She had a guide this time.

“We can’t be too long, if that’s okay? A few hours, really. But yes, I’m ready.”

She put her hand back in his and gave a soft squeeze.

And there it was. It was like a rip in reality as they knew it, a mirror, as Melissa had so adequately put it, reflecting the very universe back at them. It fractured the space around them, shimmering like a breeze upon ocean waters. It was Draca’s mode of transport.

“A few hours,” Draca nodded. “No problem. I won’t let go of you, I promise.”

With that, he took his few steps towards the portal.

They stepped through the veil together, hands entwined.

The crystal eyes follow the pointing motion. “Ah, that would be fifteen credits.” he picked up a rag to wipe his hands clean, then inspected his nails to ensure there was no grime nor damage to them.

“Wait… fifteen? Really?” She asked, her voice rather hesitant. In her line of work, there were always strings attached. Was it poor quality? Was he talking about a different one? “And how much to make it suitable for the little one?”

“Hmm?” He looked back up at the duo. “Ah, you mean the dulling? No charge, It’s just some minor customization work.” He sets the rag down, then steps over to the grind wheel of his table. He gives it a single spin, inspecting it before spraying it down with a liquid. He adds a sprinkle of dust to it before stepping back over towards where the girl is pointing at the blade. His eyebrow arches towards who he presumed was the mother, waiting for her confirmation.

“Oh! Just a moment” She reached into the bag, slung over her shoulder that I forgot to mention and pulled out fifteen credits. The man seemed genuine, so she hated not being able to tip him anything for doing the extra work, but she had to make ends meet somehow. She offered the fifteen credits, to him. “The one Sulla is pointing to, yes.” She then patted Sulla’s head. “You can stop pointing now, jellybean.”

The Arkanian accepted the credits, then made a note of the transaction in his journal. After another pass at his hands with his rag, he lifted the indicated blade and took it to his station. With a whirr, the grindstone spun to life. Mikhail took a moment to reapply the liquid, ensuring it was evenly distributed.

Carefully, he started to grind the sharp edge of the blade down to a rounded edge. Sparks flew mostly into the ground as he worked, even rounding the tip. In all, the grinding only took a few minutes. But before he passed it over, he gave it a run through his polishing wheel, using the wax present from a previous work to shine the edge into a uniform sheen.

Satisfied. He walked back over to the two, wrapping the blade in leather as he walked. “Would you like it boxed?”

Both Ellisyn and Sulla were enthralled watching the Arkanian work. Elly always enjoyed watching people work on weapons, but for Sulla, this was the first time she had seen the care and effort that was put into creating weapons, at least from a true professional.

When asked, Elly very quickly cut in before Sulla could contradict her. “Yes, please. We’d love a box.” This earned her a slight glare from the little Twi’lek.

“But Mama, I wanna hold it!” Sulla protested, not too happy with her mother’s decision

“Not yet, sweetie. Not until I show you how to properly hold it, okay?” Elly did her best to be kind but firm, still not entirely used to the whole parenting thing. The small pout she received from the littler person was almost enough to make her cave, but she stood strong. Barely.

The Arkanian placed the wrapped blade inside of a slim black case, the top of which was fashioned with a stylized “K”. He held the package out towards the small girl, waiting until she held it with both hands before letting go. “If you take care of it, when you’re older you can get it sharpened. Until then, it will be a good training tool” he nodded at the two of them before retreating back into his stall. He brushed his grinding area down, then spins the tool head device until the grindstone replaces the polisher he was last using.

He busied himself with preforming some standard maintenance on the stone

When the tall red haired female gave him the meaty snack, he was torn between staying with the pup and her white furred companion, and having a snack. Looking to his Alpha, as she was thanking the other female, and then pulled out, from somewhere in her clothes, one of the many small sharp metal teeth she had, using it to open the bag wide enough and offered it to him. Looking at her and then the small female that was still hugging and rubbing his chest. Making up his mind to come back to the little one once he’s finished his snack, he nudges her away, before standing up, sniffing and licking the red haired females hand, and then gratefully taking the meat from his Alpha. Sitting nearby the stall to quickly eat his meat.

“Thank you Erinyes, that was very kind of you,” Tahiri giggled, as Zuska licked the tall woman’s hand before taking the meat she had brought for him and sitting near the stall to eat it. Watching the interaction between Erinyes and Zuji warmed her heart. This market was a great idea for bringing so many different people from the clans together in one place. I’ll have to let Erinyes know before we leave today.

To let Zuska and Iarna eat in peace, and for Zuji and Erinyes talk unabated, Tahiri knelt down to Shayla’s height, opening her arms to beckon the sweet girl, “Hey Shay'lra, could you show me the bracelets you made?”

After introducing himself, Ro-Tahn stood back and stayed silent, not his usual when it came to being around people, he would be right in the middle laughing and talking with everyone. Instead, he happily and quietly watched his sister with her friends, almost in wonder at the difference in people who gravitated to her.

<@244244400488710155> <@645466919415054357>

Sulla excitedly took the box from the Arkanian before Elly could take it first. She hugged the box and smiled up to the blacksmith “Thanks mister!” She said, obviously beyond ecstatic

Elly didn’t have the heart to take the box from her daughter so instead she just looked down at her “Do as he says and take care of it. We’ll start tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay Mama!”

Flyndt blinked.

‘Hold hands?’

Like a mother does a toddler to keep them from underfoot? Or one aiding an unsteady elder? He paused and considered, feeling his feathers try to raise under his scarf in his curiosity. Perhaps this was something Foxen’s culture did with courting? They had touched hands plenty of times prior to this, while sitting or resting, the tips of fingers tracing palms…

Flyndt nodded and reached out slowly, hooking the hybrid’s ring finger – minding the missing smaller digit – before sliding his hand to mesh with the larger palm. His own fingers were somewhat awkwardly positioned, two resting between the fore and middle digits. And the other three between fore and thumb.

“Like this?”

Zujenia was surprised at the amount of goods Erinyes brought back with her. It was easy to tell that this woman enjoyed hospitality, even if it made the half-ryn want to metaphorically tug at her collar as this was too kind. She gave a light, quiet laugh as she set the package of frozen fish on the corner of the table and turned back to take the offered berries.

“Thank you kindly, for all this. Okay, let’s see,” Zuji popped one of the spiceberries into her mouth and bit down. A burst of flavor seeped onto her tongue, sweet and tart like the Zeltron advertised. A second later the spice hit. It was like nothing she ever tasted before. Meshed well with the sweetness and didn’t overpower it, maybe akin to a more intense cinnamon. A cinnamon with bite? However to describe it, her brain was already baking away recipes that would be so complimented by these berries.

“Mmm, these are amazin’. Ah, yes, I could definitely see a muffin or scone made with these. It would be so good.” She allowed herself to eat one more, usually she would feel awkward about eating in conversation but she had to have that second one.

Turning towards the table, she gestured to her own wares. The hybrid was still getting used to the merchant side of things, so crafting suggestions weren’t her forte and thus kept it simple. “As promised, a trade is definitely in order. We have a variety of goods, cookies, muffins, breads, tarts. Feel free to browse through them”

Meanwhile, Shay'lra only poured a little bit when Zuska left. It was short lived as Tahiri came to crouch in front of her. Now she wasn’t that short, the thought briefly crossing her mind. But the girl was too keen on giving a hug to really care. She pulled back and nodded, gesturing at the opposite end of the table from where Iarna had shifted to, large eyes staring at the packaged fish resting there and her mouth drooling with silent chittering motions.

“Yeah! Over here!” She skipped behind the table and knelt on her chair. Her rosy and blue mottled hand pointed at the various beaded accessories. “I got blue ones, purple – mum’s favorite – red, rainbow, green. Do you have a favorite color? Oh! This one has a smiley face and this one has a porg on it!”

The slow, gentle touch, and nod brought another bursting of warmth to the Nautolan’s chest, like sunlight breaking the clouds and sharp, bright berries on the tongue. He chuckled helplessly at the awkwardness, and it occurred to him by the adorably confused blink of those sunset eyes and question that what he was asking didn’t translate so much. Another one of their cultural differences, perhaps. Explanation required.

Holding up his free hand in ready position, he signed slowly. Close enough. Also can be like this, ever so carefully he flexed his hand so that Flyndt’s tender grip gave away, and then used that breath of space to slip his fingers knit with the Omwati’s, realigning their palms in a kiss all their own, curling over knucklebones, thumb brushing wrist bone and then pressing in. Other ways too. Guessing you don’t do? Is very common of couples, also but friends, family, around Galaxy. Just thought we could try. I like holding on to you. But we don’t have to. It can convey courting to someone looking. Not guaranteed, but could be assumed. If don’t want that, or just feels bad, it’s O.K.

That said, he drew up their joined hands and stooped to kiss them, mindful not to actually make contact, and more over his own knuckles than Flyndt’s; just a promise of a gesture. A question to come.

The young lagomorph woman had decided that today was going to be her day to relax. Nothing was going to upset her. Provided things went well and everything was completely ordinary in every way possible, no fights no shoot outs, no surprise encounters.

She had slipped away from her family for a bit and managed to get a ride to this festival thing. She wasn’t sure how she would fair being a vendor of woven materials, and though it best maybe next time shed try her hand at sales. For now she was certainly excited to do something different all on her own. It dawned on her then she could do whatever she wanted. If she wanted to lounge and sit all day and watch everyone buy wares or play games she could. It was nice.

Making sure to clean up her sleeveless vest she seemed to walk taller, wandering around. She was busy visiting as many booths as she could, her small stature making some booths more difficult to interact with than others, occasionally having to ask for a step-stool in order to appreciate the wares.

It was weird to make conversation with others, she was so used to her sister talking or interacting for her, anything more than a single comment was actually quite difficult if the conversation got somewhere. It wasn’t that she couldn’t but rather she was out of practice.

Having spotted what appeared to be a forge or maybe a miniature version of one, Its sign read “authentic Arkanian diamonds” she made her way over, after having just about every snack and drink she could find on her way.

She began hopping in front of the forge, in hopes of getting a better view although risking making herself somewhat sick after indulging in so many treats. “Excuse…” she began only speaking as her head peeked above the table “me…” her head peeked and vanished again. “Doyouhappen…” a thump of her landing and another hop “a stool or chair…” her breathing labored a bit “I could borrow?!” she asked. She was winded, taking a moment to breathe through the hops.

Onyx nervously walked into the festival wearing his pack with a table bungie corded to it. He was intending on selling his crystal jewelry that he makes to the festival goers, and if the price was right he would make custom pieces on the spot. Though it felt nice to get away from all the war and battles

The tall mirialan goes to a small spot in the back corner of a row nervous and not intending to do good, but still wanted to set up and give it a shot. He sets his pack down and starts to unpack his wares after unfolding his small table. “I hope I can pull atleast a small pouch of coins” he says sadly and his stomach growls

He looks at the floor and sighs bored he pulls out a small roomba,and turns it on then let’s it scoot around the festival floor it’s small little motor whirring

It starts to scoot towards <@244244163002892288> with a small decal on it reading “crystal jewelry for sale”

Despite assurances that she would not partake in this, even verbally telling her most trusted guards and confidants that she would not take part, Cassandra Oriana Tyris was here. She had even told her Vice-Chancellor and leader of the Summit Guard, <@645466919415054357>, that if by some chance she did show up here, she would not partake in the alcohol as they both knew what that meant. But she had assured her that she wouldn’t be here,

And yet, almost as if on cue, she was here and was asking for samples and indulging in the various offerings while also tasting the different types of artisanal foods. So far there was little that matched the flavor and delicacy that was her favorite, Toniray. At least she had found a few cheeses she seemed to like.

Kerissa had been lost in the chaoticly lovely surroundings. There was plenty to look at, the people, the smells, the things. The food! She had acquired food at some point, long having since finished it as the Kessurian-mix wandered her way around. The more notable folk were some of the taller ones, a Epichanthix who towered over her peering over one of the food stalls. She’d considered saying hi, though decided to leave that for a little later.

Of course priority had been laid in making sure her new broach and scarf had remained untouched by any adverse substances. They were a bit too new to be already stained like many of her clothes were.

A droid zoomed past her and while she was unable to read the sign itself, the dead-straight direction it had taken left a path to it’s owner. A black haired Mirialan behind a stall. She didn’t really have much money more to spend, having already made some purchases, but Kerissa couldn’t resist at least having a look while the advertising droid made its rounds.

She raised her hand once she was within earshot, “Heya! Just taking a look.”

And look Kerissa did. They were small trinkets but quite cute.

Onyx looks up at you and perks up “welcome to my little booth everything is hand made by myself and every crystal is genuine but not anything saber worthy but beautiful none the less everything has its price and I’m willing to barter or exchange within reason” he says nervous “m-my Droid didn’t cause any trouble did it?” He asks nervous realizing it could cause some mischief but it was a good droid..most of the time

“No no, it was fine. Well-” Kerissa hesitated, looking back over her shoulder. The little droid was fine for now. “It might get stood on.”

People had noticed its presence and were giving it space mostly but there was a lot of people.

The Kessurian-mix continued, “You might want to make sure it doesn’t wander too far away is all. Y'know, just in case. This is all quite beautiful though, yes. It must’ve taken you a while to make all of it.”

He nods and hides his scared up hands “it does yes and takes careful bending so the cage isn’t to tight nor loose enough for the gem to slide out”. The mirialan said with a small smile “but the longest time I spend is collecting the gems” he says looking up at them with a smile “if you’d like I have brought a handful of just stones and have my equipment with me I can make one the spot if you’d like”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’ve already hit my budget for today.” Kerissa responded, sheepish.

“I suppose it makes sense though, the gems taking longer to find than make the encasement for. How long have you been doing the trade?”

She didn’t feel bad taking up his time when the stall was quiet like this.

He smiles and didn’t seem to mind “it’s quite alright I totally understand” he says happily

“Depends on how extravagant I want to be with the cage and what material I am using, some times it’s silver, sometimes its a rare bar of Beskar steel for some of the more valuable pieces which I rarely try to carry on me” he says happily “and this trade I’ve been doing ever since I was little my mother..she taught me the trade” he says as he holds the piece around his neck as well as his emotions but a solem tear slips out

“but please take as much time here as you’d like and if you have an offer even if it’s not pieces I am flexible” he says smiling again and looks up at you

“I appreciate that.” Kerissa looked concerned, but offered a smile. Clearly the business was of more than just an income to him. She doubted hed so openly be grieved if his mother was still around. A shame really, if she’d taught him all this.

The Arcanist took her time examining the craftsmanship, occasionally glancing at those going by but otherwise enjoying the moment of slightly less clustered crowding that the food stalls had gathered.

He looks away for a second as his eyes flicker a slight blue and puts his hands up like he was holding a remote control and a few minutes later the Droid slowly zips by your feet into its little charging port and docks for a small break then changes back to normal

“Sorry about that I sensed with the crowd growing in size I might as well bring it in for a little while” he says as the Droid was no larger than a roomba and had lots of ways to try and get ongoers attention

“Excuse me,” Cassandra said in a soft and kind voice as she pointed at a bottle of a glowing blue liquid. “May I try some of this?”

The keeper, a Zabrak male, took note of her and smiled as he rubbed his hands together. “Oh yes, yes! You may!”

He popped the lid off of the top and poured a small sample size into a brown cup before he handed it to her. She downed it in one go, smacking her lips and her tongue as she tasted the flavors on her pallete. “Interesting…”

Mikhail turned his head from his work, confused at hearing a voice but not seeing anyone. It wasn’t until Asani was halfway through her request did he notice her leaping to see over the edge of his table. He cringed internally, then quickly moved to his tinker bench. He hooked his foot around it and slide it towards the tables containing his goods. “Apologies.. perhaps I will bring shorter tables next time. Easier for children as well.” Was that appropriate? Would the.. bunny..? think he was demeaning their height?

He clenched his jaw and turned back towards the forge, adjusting his glasses to more easily block his eyes. He kept an eye on Asani subtly, not wanting to appear to stare.

“Maybe just keep a small chair around to climb on, might help” Asani commented managing to hop onto the bench, now finally able to get a good view of all of the wares available. They were quite nice, some more elaborate than others but overall a good selection. “You made all of these yourself?” She asked him then, holding a necklace which didn’t seem to fit her, but she was staring at the design intently. Her tail swished back and forth while he ears perked up expecting a response. Did she want to haggle or was she really just taking a look? She wasn’t sure yet what she wanted to do. Should she buy her family little souvenirs? Maybe.

“I make them, yes. Except for the gems, those are cut before they’re sent to me. Anything metal however is my doing.” He spoke, turning his head towards her. He eyed the necklace she was holding. A gift? Or maybe she would want it resized? Even then, it would be like wearing an apple around his neck.

“30 Credits. Refitting is free, as are any engravings you might want.” He tossed the information towards her, while slowly twisting a small piece of metal back in a curve, a twisted horn for another project.

“Ah thank you, Im struggling a little with choosing something if you wouldn’t mind lending some help with it. You see my b-uh father has been together in a sort of on and off relationship and id like to at least try to make peace after a small family squabble, my baby sister walked out it was a whole thing so im trying to find something for two women and im not the best at jewlery. It looses its luster with all my fur so I don’t really wear any. If you wouldn’t mind holding some up for me to look.” she commented hoping to receive a bit of assistance in what appeared to be apology gifts. “If at all possible id also like to inquire about weaponry and armor.” she continued still looking around at other necklaces, eyes hovering on to bracelets for a moment before moving back to the necklaces.