âDear Force,â he prays. Threatens. Heâs arriving at the bargaining stage from left to catch it off guard. âHave I not suffered enough?â
âQuiet over there, Iâm trying to reach a mystical entity.â
âThanks, Ponds. Knew I could count on you.â
Sitrep. Codyâs currently trying to take a nap. It is not going well.
âWhy didnât you turn into shrimp or something easy,â he mutters, shoving the pillow up with his shoulder.
Heâs had an incredibly long night in the Jedi Archives trying to help find texts that might help his batchmates turn back into the humanoid assholes they are.
âWatch the hair, Wolffe.â
Wolffe chooses to ignore him, naturally. He continues impersonating a broken speeder and kneading Codyâs head.
Bly isâ âMeep!â - still stuck behind Codyâs back.
His head kind of slumps back with the sigh, the stress flowing out of his shoulders like water down a streamâ
Thereâs a rustling. One of them jumps on the couch, it seems.
Cody deigns to open one eye and watches as Ponds drags a Jedi robe onto the backrest before nesting in it in quick, efficient moves.
âIs that General Winduâs,â he asks as if he actually wants to know.
As an answer he gets a stuck up tail and a frankly unnecessary view of his brotherâs butthole before limbs, tail, and head are tugged into the fluffy ball of fur.
Alright. Time to close his eyes again.
Crossing his arms, he wriggles around until heâs - âMeep?!â - comfortable. Wolffe is still kneading, Bly is fighting a cushion, Ponds is living Codyâs dreams by being asleep and snoringâ
âIf you stick your tongue into my ear again, Iâll shoot you into orbit, Fox.â
âYeah yeah, come here, you fool.â