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@etoilebleu
𝙀𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙀𝙐 ; ( cass , she/her , 31 , rping since 2006 ! ) a selective multimuse blog featuring ocs and canons from marvel, star wars, doctor who, star trek & more ! strictly 21+, dark themes may be present. medium to high activity & oc / multi - verse , multi - muse friendly. minors & personal blogs, please 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 ! follows the tag #𝙀𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙀𝙐
(✨) carrd. (✨) rules. (✨) muses. (✨) tags. (✨) memes.
William gripped the reins a bit tighter when Eris raised her hand to stroke Cerberus along his lengthy nose, ready to pull the onery steed if he threatened to bite. He respected his master, tolerated the stable manager, but loathed anything else that breathed—the only exception seemed to be Eris. By whatever devilish means, both master and mount had been charmed by her over the years. Even now, despite every visual clue declaring that she'd just been up to no good at all. Her cheeks glowing with the warmth of exercise, a strand of hair clinging to her temple that had only just begun to break a modest sweat, the quickened rise and fall of her chest. None of which William believed was unbecoming. If anything, the oh so pleasant sight of her offered him temporary relief from what had been plaguing. "Well, of course I was coming to get you..." Only Eris would understand the humor in his refusal to make such a lie sound convincing. Even if that hadn't been the case, he should have at least considered it. He was not the only one in need of an escape from a reality that would one day separate them if they weren't precious enough with the safeguarding of their—friendship. Removing one foot from the stirrup, he inched back and offered Eris his hand. All she had to do was step up and he'd help her the rest of the way. "I thought you'd post-pone your nonsense until I had saddled up at least."
her smile only widened when he played into it, corners of her eyes crinkling while she giggled with such joy. the comfort william brought her was so appreciative. especially in moments like these, where she felt trapped. eris only hoped it were the same for him.
and then he had to go and ride in on his damn horse. it felt like a dream.
shoulders dropped when her heart seemed to be at the tail end of catching up with her lungs, reaching to take his hand at the same time. one foot was placed into the stirrup while he pulled her toward him, the other leg stablizing herself against the saddle the brief moment they were face to face.
" well... " eris started, sighing with a shrug. " cerberus is fast--but tom was faster. " shaking her head in playful dismay before lifting her knee to slide on, letting that bit of information sit for a moment. " a new record, by the way. eight minutes. " eight whole minutes she spent with him before she could get rid of him. and tom made it far too easy by BEING far too easy.
hands joined his in holding the reigns, glancing behind her with a smirk. " eight minutes and into the fountain. " proud of herself.
Closed starter → ( @etoilebleu ) This is a private RP post, please do not reblog or interact.
Ms. Taylor was history. At least that was what William had hoped when he overheard the shouting match ensuing between his father and his duplicitous mistress. It wouldn't be the first time that the two had argued only to persist in their dysfunction. William, unfortunately, was caught right in the middle, whether his father was aware of it or not. His own son, in a 'complicated' and iniquitous affair with the woman he did not love nor care for, but kept for his own amusement. William wasn't going to risk staying indoors if it meant that revelation was about to unfold(if it had not before, he had no reason to believe it would now), and so he slipped out unaware and saddled Cerberus for what might be a lengthy tour around Pemberley's grand park. The beauty of it almost lost to him, when most good feelings associated with the estate belonged to the memory of his late mother. Memories that were growing more difficult to reclaim as the years dragged on. Though she would be relieved to know that she was not the only safe place in her son's life; a safe space—a safe person—who appeared just over one of the lush hills, as though right on cue.
William slowed Cerberus to a trot and groaned to himself. Now was not a good time for one of Eris's ritualistic walks to Pemberley. He almost wished her away, but the guilt which would surely follow would have gnawed away at him until there was nothing left but bone. In a world full of people who he did not wish to engage, Eris was not one of them. He would regret every thought, every petty annoyance and every attempt at pushing her away, if she ever did go away. It was much too late to pretend that their eyes had not acknowledged one another at a distance, anyway. With a gentle tug of the reins, he guided his horse in her direction.
"Hello, darling..."
she'd very nearly avoided her mother for the day. almost. until she cornered her in the grand entrance with a young man in tow. another one of her suitors. for them to secure and combine finances. I mean--marry. yes. husband and wife. he had a hardened stare and a stone cold frown, looking about as interesting as a stepping stone. she'd entertain it--for the moment. tom, what a terrible name.
eris obliged with a sweet smile, allowing him to take her by the arm while they walked out to their modest back garden. which couldn't even compare to pemberley. reminding her where she'd rather be right now.
well, maybe she could make this quick.
tom with the hardened gaze and the hardened frown only seemed to smile at the fact that they were alone now. getting all too familiar by moving his hand to the small of her back. it only made eris smile harder, a giggle passing her lips as if she were so pleased by his advances. oh, tom. you stupid, stupid man.
the more he spoke about himself, the more she hated him. not once did he ask about her and he was absolutely brimming with ego. so eris gently guided them toward the fountain, getting the flowing water to be the backdrop of what tom hoped to be a 'romantic' moment. thinking he was skilled by the way he pulled her in by the waist...and going in for a kiss.
eris closed her eyes as if she were going to let him---until her teeth bit down on his lower lip...HARD. as soon as he yelped she let go, maneuvering her foot when he stumbled backwards so that he'd fall right into the fountain with a big SPLASH.
tom was too easy.
grinning mischievously, the bride to be ran off as fast as she could, giggles falling to the wind. and in what direction did she go in? as if anyone had to guess... well, if her mother really cared--she'd have gone after her by now. so it made her think perhaps tom wasn't her best option.
oh well, there'd be another tom next week. maybe she could plan with william to avoid being home then. when she thought she was far enough, she stopped running, catching her breath as her footsteps slowed, the pemberley property coming into view. the air felt much more relaxing here, eris stretching her arms up temporarily while she calmed herself down, adventuring over the grassy hill.
it wasn't long before she caught sight of that familiar horse, the mid afternoon sun just behind him, making the man on it look like a god. heart fluttered at the sight, giving a breathless chuckle while her hand raised to create a visor over her eyes. arm raised to give a long raggedy wave, steps trotting a bit faster to meet him halfway.
she could kiss god for delivering exactly who she wanted to see in this moment.
eris wore the biggest smile just for him, eyes sparkling while he rode up before her. " yeah, you'd better. " she teased, hand raising to gently pet cerberus's snout. " you've got some nerve being on your horse and not coming to get me. " still clearly joking, smirking as she took him in. william looked a bit distant... like he had something on his mind. " I think for your sake, my darling--the story is that you were on the way, weren't you? " lips pressing together in an attempt to hide her smile.
I just watched an ad on my dash of a game where you scoop literal horse shit.
another day of not being at work and being here to be annoying !
independent. selective. private. & slow activity. FALLEN! OBI-WAN KENOBI for George Lucas’s Star Wars, featuring an amalgam of Disney’s Canon and legends, featuring original lore for the planet Stewjon
( loved and lamented by jaime )
TRIGGER & CONTENT WARNING: This blog explores dark themes regarding loss and grief. It may include subjects triggering for some individuals, such as graphic depictions of violence, intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, self-destructive tendencies, self-harm, drug use, and survivor’s guilt. The dark side is portrayed as a parasitic entity to Obi-Wan because he is a prisoner of his grief. last post edit: 1 June 2026
RULES // ABOUT // VERSES
PLOT & INTERACTION GUIDE.
omg what a weekend. my period left me like a rotting victorian child and at the same time.. my cat needed an ER visit so I’ve had such little sleep. I’ll be more present tomorrow I’m having a TIME.
Blue eyes carefully watched as she took her first sip of the drink. A bemused expression crossed his face before he carefully hid it behind another drag of his deathstick, relishing the feeling of the drug hitting his blood and washing through his blood like a warm blanket. Tense shoulders dropped as his head leaned back to rest on the back of the chair, legs falling open in a comfortable recline.
The picture spoke of a sad, exhausted man in need of a break. The shadows of the bar clung to the bags under his eyes and the slightly gaunt pull to his cheeks. A man running mostly on caffeine, death sticks, and pure vibes. Lazily, his head lolled over to look at her, not even hiding that he gave her a full body scan.
Carefully, Bron'ig looked her over, noting the more relaxed manner of her body, the way the corners of her eyes seemed less tight, the less tension she held within herself with every sip she took. He downed the first half of his drink in one gulp and wiped his mouth with a sleeve, freezing as Eris suddenly started laughing.
Spine straightened in concern immediately on alert. The last thing he needed was for someone to delve into drunkard hysterics because they finally confronted their emotions. Been there, done that, no thank you. Thankfully, Eris composed herself quickly, allowing the Mandalorian to relax once more, but still watching her with a wary gaze.
Bron'ig opened his mouth to say something, but then gave up and took another drag of his deathstick as she tutted quietly. He finished the drink in another gulp, relishing in the buzz.
"The galaxy has been thrown into darkness since the last time we met. Even then, I had already been a slave and a General at 15. Looks can be deceiving. People change."
His jaw clenched in anticipation, eyes tensing, waiting for the onslaught of whispers and waves of pain from the dark side, immediately regretting saying anything. The pain from looking upon that time, acknowledging who he was before, and how far he fell. Except this time it didn't come. His hands unclenched, and he took another drag.
Then she spoke of jungles and climbing trees, and it was so innocent and carefree that Bron'ig really had to fight the smile and the laugh bubbling at his chest from the absurdity of it all. Shaking his head, a concerned look on his expression, he put the deathstick in the ashtray, careful to keep it burning, scratching lightly at the scruff that had grown in the past few days, eyes focusing on the blaster and pouch of money on the table.
"Respectfully, I doubt there's anything you could do faster than me, but I will say I have not been climbing any trees lately, so I acquiesce."
Bron'ig actually got so distracted by her moving toward him that he nearly missed her question. "Wha-oh," waving it off, shifted slightly and shrugged, "Not a clue. Deserted Imperial Intelligence, from the looks of it, felt scared enough to take advantage of it. I doubt he'll last the next 3 days."
Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the blaster again. Leaning forward, he grabbed the blaster, making sure the safety was on before placing it back on the table. Calculating eyes focused on her belt as he brought a hand up to his mouth and pulled a glove off, then the other. Deft fingers begin manipulating the belt carefully to keep it functional and able to hold a blaster for the time being.
A strange look passed over his face as Bron'ig seemed far away. Not painfully, more like a meditative muscle memory of helping someone fix their gear, it spoke of a different life, a time of constant companionship. Once satisfied, he looked up, only noticing just how close their faces had gotten with a jolt.
Bron'ig leaned back with a slightly pained expression before it disappeared in an instant, making sure to put more space between them so he could just breathe a strange panic filling his chest as he took a slightly ragged breath. A slightly shaky hand reached out for the deathstick. A hit, and his body was relaxing again. He needed another, and preferably another drink.
"I'm going to get another drink. Do you need anything? Have you eaten?" The food here wasn't the best, but he knew they served a hoi broth that was apparently the house dish and what they were known for. Even if she said no, he would probably order some for her to take home, just in case.
He knew the Corellian Rye was strong, but he didn't think her tolerance was so low. She most likely didn't know how to bolster her tolerance in the Force, something he had already mastered as a Padawan thanks to a certain Quinlan Vos. As he stood, he carefully gathered his gloves, pulling them back on.
The man knew he could leave his helmet or take it with him. Deciding it was better to have it on and use the helmet to his advantage. A deep breath, and his helmet was back on, spine straightening as he pulled on the Dark Side around him, the shadows growing longer, almost wrapping around him like a blanket, and shouting GO AWAY even to the Force-null.
"Don't..." Bron'ig paused as the word punched out of him without a thought, already ready to scold someone for wandering off. Oh, who cares? If it's meant to be, the dark side will tell him. Without another word, he turned stiffly and walked back to the bar.
the more he let slip, the more she was able to put together pieces of a bigger picture. he had already seen slavery, such tortures and war by then. and yet she had met him probably sometime just after that. and he was still kind. the corner of her mouth twitched to comment specifically on that, but she held back.
obi wan was still in there, even if he didn’t see it. another sip of her drink was taken, carrying on with determination to finish this so she could have another.
yet he seemed so sure—that there was absolutely nothing. eyes lit up that he actually had playfully went back and forth with her, giving him a tight lipped smile in acceptance. fine. just the trees. but only because he looked so warm with that foreign uptwitch of his lips on his face. someone that felt much like what once was. just as she thought.
It felt a tad relieving that anyone that had anything to do with the empire wouldn’t grow roots here. perhaps this would be somewhere she could stay for a while. shoulders seemed to further relax at that bit of information, eyes trailing down in thought while she gave him a curt nod. maybe it was time to think about what she’d spend her time really doing, then.
the sound of the metal blaster moving on the table made her gaze flicker back up to his, catching the way he was about to remove his gloves. my…. why did that feel so intimate? surely it was the loneliness painting that picture. eris’s torso was still somewhat twisted to face him, slowly sliding her elbow off the table when he reached toward her waist, taking a quiet inhale and holding it. heartbeat even felt like it stopped with her, wanting complete silence, as if his touch could speak.
eyes rounded while they flickered from his busy hands gently pulling and twisting the fabric around the metal ring, to how close his face was to hers. cheeks felt hot, attempting to swallow the heat that had risen and spread within her chest. to have such attentive hands remember her. starved for connection—she couldn’t help but look right at his lowered gaze, now that she were close enough to really look at them. since every time they looked directly at her, he was too far away. emotionally, anyway. she yearned to rip him wide open and translate all the writing on the walls. taking the time to read each ripple and tear within his irises, she could feel the blaster becoming snugly attached to her hip, heart doing the internal screaming by hammering in her chest. at some point her hands had curled into fists, holding tight against the sides of her skirt.
it seemed like he forgot himself, though. where he was or what exactly he was really doing. falling back into a familiar habit. her face read nothing hostile, just a doe eyed stare that patiently waited for his next move—to gently meet him there.
bron’ig slightly jolted back then, eris didn’t. when he turned away to grab his death stick with a trembling hand, she released the breath she’d been holding, keeping her posture tight. when he seemed to relax, she did as well, picking up her drink to take a rather ungraceful gulp, giving him a nod from behind her hand to cover her mouth from the sight. brows furrowed while she dealt with the aftermath of the burn, exhaling to release it, adjusting her hood.
“ just another one of these or something…stronger would be perfect, thank you. “ she definitely had no appetite after the events of today. especially right now. though after that drink she’d most likely be done for the evening. helmet sliding back over his head once more.
but then he stopped. she tilted her head at the singular word that came out of his mouth, but bron’ig stepped on, disregarding it completely. half of a thought forming. but no, he probably didn’t care about that. not like she was going to anyways.
eris seemed perplexed, eyes glued to the back of his head while the person she’d pulled out from the depths—pulled right back in. giving a heavy sigh, she leaned back to rest against the booth, gathering her thoughts while he gathered their drinks and whatever else he might grab for himself.
when he returned, eris gave him a quick smile, a pleased hum following when she brought her lips toward it to take the first sip. eyes screwed shut and her hand raised to clutch at the fabric over her chest, moving her head to the side. “ oh you really delivered— !“ she struggled to get the words out, finally opening one eye at a time. it was indeed strong.
she could do this, though. the first initial burn was always the worst. biting down on her lower lip, she hesitated before she opened up to take another swig, a slightly larger amount this time to get through her drink. setting it down, hand patted at her chest, giggling at herself breathlessly.
“ don’t look at me like I’m so pathetic. If I were to find a tree—I’m telling you. “ grinning wildly while she shook her head. she gave a moment for it all to settle before she tucked her hair behind her ears from underneath her hood, hands strumming on the table top. “ mmmm…. what you were saying earlier—about people changing. “ twisting her lips. “ I think I disagree with that. “
hands folded in her lap, lifting her chin as if her opinion was very important to share. or perhaps she was getting way past a buzz.
“ you’re still you. no matter what. no one or no-THING can ever take that away. and when you peel off allllll the layers? the same heart’s still there. “ she gave him a tight lipped smile, beaming. right? right.
“ and I think being around you has made me better than I already am. I’m most definitely going to have a huge hangover— “ eris lightly patted her bag, proud of her fruit purchase from earlier. “ and in hindsight I bought something perfect to deal with it. “ blaming it on a force ability. full circle. how fun.
eris dared to go back in for another, another hand on her chest while she groaned behind closed lips, feeling it all the way down. the hand on her chest slid down her form to the blaster, hand tracing over it while she finally opened her eyes.
“ ….you know, I’ve never held a weapon before. “ lowering her head to examine it more. “ quite frankly—-I’m afraid. but it’s a little too late for that, isn’t it? “
she was on her own now. it was probably crucial she owned one if she was planning to stay alive. chin lifted to have bron’ig in her line of sight again, elbow returning to the table to rest her chin on the back of her hand.
“ alllll this fighting…..when we could just come to a cantina——and have a drink. “ giving a sour face, the drink very clearly hitting her now. solving galaxy peace one idea at a time.
The smile Eris gave him was so genuine and kind that, for a moment, he felt like an entirely different person. Not the monster that walked his skin, but a respectable Jedi Master helping someone in need. It was a juxtaposition to everything that he told himself he was, everything he became after Satine.
The helmet was a welcome barrier as he allowed the emotions to pass over his face freely. A lone tear fell down his cheek and disappeared into the folds of his armor at his neck. Bron'ig daren't wipe away any sign of his vulnerability around her.
( WEAK. )
( PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER )
( SHE IS A PAWN. A TOOL. )
His jaw clenched, guiding Eris through the crowds of the planet they were on: Exala. Helmet flicked down to look over her attire, noticing the grey and navy clothing, not looking too dissimilar to his own grey and black armor, though his gold accents made him stand out a bit more, which he supposed helped her anonymity a bit.
People outside of a typical Mandalorian's work would be deterred from looking too closely. Meanwhile, bounty hunters would be looking for weakness in him, wondering who she was to be worth his time.
Helmet turned toward her as his hand dropped from her shoulder. "...You've never been to a cantina?" A wariness laced his tone as he questioned her, as if he couldn't quite believe her words. Surely, on her planet, which he couldn't remember the name of, she snuck out as a child and went out.
( BETTER YOUNGLING THAN YOU. )
The thought stung, but he knew it was true, true enough that for once the whispering from the dark side didn't hurt.
Bron'ig wasn't expecting the hand to cling to his forearm like a lifeline as they approached the cantina.
"Just relax," he murmured loud enough for his vocoder to put the words out, but not too loud.
Gently, he pulled the hood over her head, adjusting it carefully. His hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then slid down her upper arm to her elbow, softly guiding her with him. It spoke of a common movement he made, but his touch was infinitely more gentle, just barely there so as to guide rather than truly handle.
Approaching the bar, his free hand dug into a pouch at his breast, pulling a few credits out and tossing them on the counter. "2 Corellian Rye and a death stick if you have it."
As the bartender prepared the drink for them, Bron'ig scanned their surroundings for the best place to sit, paying attention to the warmth of her under his touch: a reassurance she was still there. If Eris intended to get drunk, then he should probably put them in a corner booth. All of them were occupied.
( THAT ONE. )
Head snapped in the direction of a singular man in the corner who looked like he would rather stay out of the limelight. Without thought, his hand is handing Eris her drink before grabbing the death stick for himself and his drink.
"This way," directing with his helmet, Bron'ig headed toward the squirrely man, making sure Eris was slightly behind him, her face hidden. As he approached, the man's spine straightened, glancing around in fear.
"Please, I can pay whatever you want, just leave me alone."
Bron'ig had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
From the looks of the man, upon further inspection, he seemed to be a deserter from Imperial Intelligence. Silently, Bron'ig glanced behind him at Eris and then turned to the man in the spot.
"Your weapon, all your money, and I'll give you as much time as it takes to have a drink and deal with her."
The man was shocked at first and was about to protest, but then looked over the full Beskar armor and then nodded emphatically. The officer placed his blaster and pouch of money on the table, then bolted, offering his gratitude for the chance to escape.
Once Bron'ig knew he was gone, he gestured to allow Eris to sit and then slid into the booth next to her. Their backs were to the wall, open on all other sides, with clear sight of the exit and an emergency-only outdoor to their right.
"It might not taste the best, but I have found it works well enough to start the night," he explained as he slid his helmet off, lit the death stick, and took a long drag. As he exhaled, he sank back into the seat and then turned to look at her expectantly - this was her idea after all.
he questioned as if that weren’t normal. was it really that odd? eris only quirked her brow a fraction, a stiff shake of her head given. no, never. was this something only civilians did? alcohol was usually something included at an important open gathering where everyone’s standing around…or just dinner.
but she could hear it, feel it. the way others would pour into these places and pour their hearts out in any capacity they could. lamenting or just plain reckless. and pay for it.
it seemed…… fun. so was it something in the drinks? or was it whatever was within the walls that made it the way it was?
‘ just relax. ‘
bright green eyes that had been seared onto the intimidating unknown had swiveled up to his, expression softening as if she was attempting to take his advice. she then took a deep breath through her nostrils, giving a nod to focus on just that. but then someone was pulling her hood back up so gently. adjusting it just right over her head. something she hadn’t expected from the mandalorian. so surely it wasn’t him.
but the similar feeling of his hand slid back to her shoulder, more tender this time. much more. unrecognizably much. it WAS him. the hood thankfully hiding the slightly surprised look on her face. aching cold heart seemed to pulse to life—like an explosion from within, while his hand slid down her arm. pupils dilated from the rush of the first kind human touch she’d had in months, goosebumps raising beneath her heavily covered form.
he lead them right on in, eris moving completely on autopilot for a brief moment in the shock of it all. when he stepped in front of her to order, she looked at the back of his head in awe, lips parted slightly.
oh she knew it. beneath that bottomless pit of pain. there was really someone in there, despite his efforts to keep him down there. heart fluttered within her chest while her cheeks flushed, feeling free from the thought. that her intuition to stay and trust him was exactly right.
when he turned to hand her the odd drink, she appeared to be excited about just that. but no. cup was accepted into her hands, examining the liquid while he kept her close. she looked so pleased, content in the moment before he guided them in a different direction. completely wrapped up in her own world, she followed behind, barely catching what had just happened and the words that came out of his mouth. gaze flickered up from her cup to glance at what she could see of the terrified man, his form slipping right out of the booth and dropping his things as quick as he could.
eyes darted to the exit and then to bren’ig with raised brows before she let it go, wondering if he really would track him down later. he gestured for her to slide in an eris obliged, ceremoniously smoothing the dowdy fabric of her long skirt while she slid in.
the lights were low and the music wasn’t too loud, the former inujan royal scanning the room with wonder before she took the first sip of her drink. when she did, brows furrowed, humming at the taste an his comment. it was definitely different than what she’d ever had. but it worked. her tongue begged for more, taking another before she briefly put it down, exhaling heavily.
when she turned to face him, the look on his now visible face made her chuckle, the translucent cloud of smoke blowing past the two of them.
“ what? It’s nice—I like it, really. “ amusement still on her features while she brought the cup to her lips, eyes glancing his way again, corners of her eyes crinkling further. because this was hilarious.
he had terrified the daylight out of her earlier and now they were here—
eris covered her mouth abruptly in an attempt to swallow before the laughter burst out of her, ducking her head while her shoulders vibrated. when she finally lifted her head, eyes were glassy from how humorous she found it, giving her head a shake as she began to collected herself.
taking a deep breath, elbow was placed on the tabletop, hand supporting her chin, staring up at him. “ I’m really not sure what you expected of me. Have I ever been to a cantina… “ she tutted quietly, looking at him in playful suspicion.
“ I was wild but not like that— “ brows furrowing and looking him once over like she were offended he thought of her in that way. Even though she’d spoke of her defiance against the empire. realistially it was just a space royals didn’t go. these places got crazy. the shouting, fighting and the danger. Even here apparently.
“ No—I was just in the jungle. “ smirking. yes, off playing in the wild. “ so I might not be able to drink you under the table but perhaps I could….scale a tree faster than you ever could. “ taking another sip of her drink. cause that was just way cooler, right? months of not talking to hardly anyone and she’d tore herself right open before him.
it was this drink. or the walls. she was sure of it.
eris turned herself more inward to speak closer to him, voice lower. “ ….so who was that man? “
Shoulders visibly dropped as she took his deflection and gave him a moment to calm his own nerves. He didn't miss the way she refused - no - couldn't meet his gaze. It was then he realized her questions were less grilling and more searching for a kindred soul.
( YES. YES. YES. )
( SHE'S SO VULNERABLE )
Bron'ig felt her emotions swell in the Force. They weren't terribly overbearing or as poignant as before. Instead, it swirled and danced like a vapor display he once saw on an aquatic planet during his travels. His own tendrils of regret and anguish longed to latch onto hers.
He could feel the tug in his chest as she spoke more of her struggles. As Eris got further into her own mind, Bron'ig could feel, nearly see the Dark side gathering around her, though there was still this barrier of light that kept it at bay deep in her core.
It felt like the shadows in the room grew darker as the pull of her BITTERNESS, her SADNESS, her FEAR was intoxicating. Bron'ig swallowed heavily as he tasted the tears she had shed before, the tears that glistened in her eyes now, and the tears she would shed in the future.
Silent footsteps took him closer to her, unbeknownst to both of them. He could feel the power brimming under him; this was different. The whispers are of POWER, of PROMISES OF REVENGE; it felt so, so good. His eyes blazed as the feeling filled his chest the closer he got.
Bron'ig jumped back to himself as she abruptly stood and looked at him. Golden eyes dim back to blue as they dash to her pointed hand.
Her offer, nay, her plea, to get a drink with her, felt like emotional whiplash that showed on his face with a minuscule furrow of his brow and a blink.
"Uh-" was the man's very eloquent response. Was this woman so lonely that she wanted to spend time with him? Or was there an ulterior motive that he wasn't privy to? The options weighed heavily on his mind as he watched Eris backpedal to the ramp then bounce on her toes.
( YES. )
( LISTEN. )
( KEEP HER CLOSE )
Something about her pulled him to her, yet at the same time, everything told him to keep her away from him. His years of solidarity in protecting not only himself but also others weighed on him. Obi-Wan wanted to let her go; to care is to deliver a death sentence.
But there was a strange silence to the dark side around her. Well, when she wasn't opening her big mouth, which was the whole problem, wasn't it?
"Gal, ori'skraan, riduur, yaim' dab'ika," Bron'ig nodded. "That's the phrase you're looking for." Without another word, he turned on his heel and went into the adjoining refresher. A couple of moments passed, and he returned with a freshly washed face, armor in less disarray, and having run a hand through his hair.
"Alcohol, food, good company, and bed," the man finally translated for Eris as he grabbed the helmet off the workbench and shoved it over his head. The Force pulsed, and with a metallic groan, the ramp began lowering.
Bron'ig followed her out the ramp, called his lightsaber to his side, clipped it, and then closed the ramp.
With the helmet on, there was a noticeable difference in his entire demeanor. Perhaps not noticeable to him, but anyone paying close attention could see that the helmet served as his final protection against the outside world, his emotional separation from other living things.
"There's a cantina that way, the least Empire-friendly place I know without being entirely deplorable. Family-owned, run by a woman and her two sons, now that the husband is out of the picture." His hand came up to her shoulder to steer her in the direction of where to go.
It was the safest place he could think of to take her. Of course, Bron'ig really doubted anyone would try to kill, attack, or sell her with him around. Not to mention she already seemed to be taking care of herself to a certain extent, which was another mystery about her he couldn't quite understand.
hands joined together while he hesitated, heart sitting uncomfortably within her chest, caught between the silent noises of the ship. oh she hoped, just for once. something could go her way. another beat of silence and bron'ig responded in a language she didn't understand, anticipating gaze softening while it slowly fell to the floor, attempting to at least interpret the tone. so... he was coming? right?
he disappeared briefly, eris turning around to immediately trace her fingers along the metal walls. as if it would tell her more in his absence. but it really wasn't long before the sound of his voice alerted her of his presence, the former inujan royal turning promptly on her heel to face him, eyes wide for a brief moment.
..so he was coming.
a (surprisingly) joyous smile stretched across her face, the low lights of his ship glistening in her eyes while she gave a nod.
" hm. I think I like that. " still somewhat beaming at the mandalorian as she walked backwards toward the groaning ramp, finally twisting around to walk back out into the dark of night.
his helmet was slipped back over his head, the identity of the same version of this man she'd seen earlier now connected with a different feeling. It felt chaotic, how this started…and how it was now going. but eris almost enjoyed that. to feel so alive. the pair trekked together through the deep depths of the city, her own way to conceal her identity remaining down around her shoulders. she'd seen the way people weaved and walked around him. surely she was safe. surely--she was less noticeable. deep grey and muted navy fabric that hung over her form made her look almost invisible, eyes swiveling up from the streets ahead to listen to his words. staring a second too long while his hand reached up to touch her shoulder.
perhaps this armor protected him in more ways than one.
gaze swiveled toward the way they were headed, his touch feeling so foreign. but all of that was forgotten with his choice of words, eris chuckling under her breath. not completely deplorable. how thoughtful.
" so—-it's called a cantina. " eris repeated, brows furrowing. she guessed that made sense. she bit the inside of her cheek in thought, drawing a blank at what would come next, looking a tad nervous. the entrance was upon them. was it as simple as it sounded? you arrived like you do at the market stalls, say what you want—and you sit?
slightly panicked, a hand as pale as the moon reached up to gently cling to his forearm, leaning closer.
“ order me something. anything. I don’t care, I’ll drink it. “
most of the things she’d figured out and executed on her own—she had time to rehearse it. but there was no rehearsing now. and looking too out of place felt too obvious—even if it were a safer place to be.
Jessica Paré
going to work on your period should be a crime
I called out of work today bc I feel so awful SOOOO ill be here 🫡 on my computer in a bit
BUTTTTT COME PLOT WITH MEEE
going to work on your period should be a crime
It was no secret Tony had a history of flirting with just about anyone he saw. If they were as beautiful as the woman in front of him? Consider them charmed. Usually anyway. The party had called for the finest attire and he always felt under-dressed compared to the women at these things sometimes. All the men would wear was usually the same thing. A fine suit by some big name designer with a flashy tie that matched. Meanwhile the women dressed in the finest silks and satin and designs that had him practically drooling. The woman in front of him was no different.
He hummed and smirked with a nod when she mentioned never being arrested. "Maybe tonight I can change that," he suggested with a wink. Tony was good at these things. Keeping things casual and light. Even when danger dangled in front of his face. He had a suspicion about who she was and he had a job to do.
"Fate?" He mused with a chuckle, "I'm more of a man of facts and logic, not much on interpreting dreams. But you..." He trailed off and pulled out his phone and unlocked it to the picture of her caught in the act. He stepped so he was behind her a little, his phone held out in front of them but held tight enough should she decide to try and run off with it. Even if she did it was being tracked. So, it was almost a dare for her to even try.
"A dream easily shattered before it begins," he whispered to her, "Unless you're done with all this. If so you come with me quietly. Wouldn't want to create too much excitement for the party goers." His free hand moved to her shoulder gently moving down her arm. "Besides, I bet that dress cost you more than you could afford in a year and I'd hate to see it ruined."
sasha’s smile stretched a little wider at his lighthearted threat, eyes crinkling in the corners while she hummed. as if she were to be considering it.
never.
the woman breathed lightly, keeping her composure while she held his gaze, tracking his every move. on the surface, she looked amused—if one were to look closer, they would see the way her hand tightened into a fist, manicured nails digging into the meat of her palm.
she almost didn’t want to see it. the impossible proof he had. one minor moment she appeared during a mission for a buyer. information the US government had that she sold. and it had serious consequence in recent news.
and he had it. that one split second in the form of a photo.
the violins that filled the silence began to sound sour while her heart raced within her chest, still as she stared, calculating her options.
the russian woman gave a breathless laugh, keeping up her facade. “ oh? …I thought that’s why people invited you in the first place. “ she teased, eyes slowly swiveling up toward his while his hand caressed her bare skin.
he’d hate to see it get ruined?
sasha slowly turned in his touch, facing him now and pressing herself against him, fingers adjusting the lapel of his coat. stalling.
“ ….mmm. there’s only one way I’d allow this dress to be ruined. and you most definitely have my permission, mr.stark. “ she muttered, looking him over in a flirtatious manner—and to see what he had on him in terms of a weapon.
but back to the ‘arresting’.
sasha pushed her red painted lips toward his ear, giving a long heavy sigh, still clutching onto him. “ …imagine you could have the super power people always say they’d choose to have if they could. that allows you to bear witness to conversations, uncover truths, take what you’ve always wanted…even sneak up on your mark and kill them without a fight…. “
she smiled against his ear, giving another breathless laugh. a tinge of sadness folded somewhere within it. sasha hesitated, thumb caressing the black fabric, gaze dropping while she inhaled his cologne.
“ …..they’ll kill me. “ she whispered as she lowered her head, palms laying flat and traveling up his chest. there was no way around it. “ …or…. they’ll make me wish I was dead doing whaaaaateeever they can find for me to do with my ability to serve this country as punishment. “ she released the breath she’d been holding, removing her face far back enough to observe his expression. to see if he was moving his stance on the matter.
“ I’ll only come quietly if you promise it’s okay that I’m quite the screamer. “ hands traveling up to the nape of his neck. lips ghosted over his, smirking.
“ or could it be that… you can’t handle me? “
Watching her carefully, he noticed that the hum in the FORCE felt less ominous despite still being in pain. His head ached, the blood from his nosebleed earlier still crusted his face, and he probably looked sweaty and gross. It was a miracle Eris didn't run on their way to the ship.
Sharp eyes followed the hands that smoothed her clothes. They didn't shake; he knew she wasn't scared of him anymore. Bron'ig could feel her emotions in the Force easily. Of course, he knew, but it was still reassuring to see.
( WHY DO YOU CARE? )
A barely noticeable shake of his head, and Bron'ig couldn't disagree with her. He hummed softly to show his agreement, but offered no further clarification as to what he was running from. Bron'ig wasn't running from anything, he told himself.
Eris continued, and a subconscious frown pulled at the corner of his lips despite holding her gaze.
"Work is in the Outer Rim," was his bland excuse.
Her next question hit like a sucker punch to the gut, yet he attempted to remain unbothered and shrugged. Swallowing, he attempted to speak past the pain.
"Depends on your line of work."
As much as he tried, Obi-Wan was never good at controlling his emotions. The lid on his chest opened. A painful thread manifested from the center of his chest to the brooch under the pillow. The threads of attachment nearly tangible in the Force.
( LONELY. LONELY. LONELY. )
( IT'S YOUR FAULT. )
( COULDN'T PROTECT THEM )
( NIBRAL. NIBRAL. NIBRAL. )
Bron'ig's shoulders heaved. The buzzing grew louder as he stared at the pillow, the louder the voice. GRIEF. GRIEF. GRIEF. GRIEF. It buzzed under his skin, at his fingertips, behind his eyes, in his chest.
"Excuse me," he rasped out as he abruptly turned - spine straight like a soldier - and left the room. A loud slam echoed throughout the ship as a door closed.
A moment passed as the Force and the energy in the room changed. A metallic taste filtered into the air as the ship started to vibrate, the room smelling of chemicals.
CRACK, and the lights flicker and go out. Flicker. Back on.
Another moment passed, and the fallen Jedi returned to the room, looking calmer, yet smelling slightly burnt.
"What is a Queen doing in the Outer Rim?" Bron'ig finally fired back.
He scooped the brooch up from the pillow, put it on the workbench, and walked back to stand near his mattress, arms crossed over his chest. A beat, arms dropped as he stomped back over to the workbench, picked up the brooch, and put it back under the pillow before standing fully. A twitch of his eye. Bron'ig scooped back down and put the brooch in his pouch once more.
she could see the way his being slowly grew agitated, one hand raising to clutch to the fabric on covering her chest. an emotion she didn’t intend to invoke by evading the truth. the way his own responses choked him were visual proof.
gaze followed his line of sight, watching in silence while the threat of a disturbance in the force grew the more he looked toward his bed with his mind visibly racing. his stare searing into it. she could almost feel it physically, the deep connection that began to make itself known the more his chest heaved. that same pull from earlier began to manifest, the noise rushing in her ears until he excused himself, it cutting off with the slam of the door.
shoulders dropped when she frowned, lips pressing together while she milled over her chosen words, feeling a bit of regret.
a different feeling began to fill the space within these walls, hands slipping down to grab the seat of her chair. body leaned forward as if to attempt to hear what he was doing, the smell following. eris raised a brow, features hidden in the flash of brief darkness after the loud sound. eyes shifted around the room before she slowly retreated toward the back of her seat, pressed against it as much as it would allow.
bren’ig soon returned, eris making a conscious effort to adjust her posture…..had he burned something back there?
brows furrowed at his sudden loaded question, giving a heavy sigh through her nostrils. oh the deflection with this one.
…ah. that’s what it was. the brooch from earlier. the one that matched the symbol on his skin. the root of his pain it seemed. her expression softened for a moment, lost in thought before it disappeared in his pouch.
“ …I am no one’s queen. “ she corrected, avoiding his gaze at the uncomfortable topic. hands rested in her lap, pinching and fidgeting her fingers discretely.
“ the outer rim….. is where someone like me who rejects the empire’s control goes. “ she bit the inside of her cheek, heart feeling heavy.
she still couldn’t believe it. the bitterness in her tone. “ …with methods like stationed storm troopers and their own personally assigned governor telling me my new limitations. and that I was just for show, to keep the people from uprising. “ eris scoffed, shaking her head while she continued to face away from him. and her parents advised she accept it as she stepped into her new role. it would be a good thing. less on their plate. how could they say that? it felt so spineless. but maybe that was who they always really were.
but it was not a good thing. and it wouldn’t be. because the future she saw from her ability…. the planet was the color of soot. like a burnt down civilization after rain. heavy with misery and gloom and what if’s. legislations and prosperity she had planned for their fruitful home no longer possible.
It hurt terribly.
she could feel how the galaxy cried through the force, her grief amplifying her ability to find it in the moment. It glistened in her eyes, eris clearing her throat while she lowered her head.
and maybe she did try. just a little. to voice her disapproval, to reject and plot to remove control. a reminder was there, like a scar on the skin. but it was no use. the empire was too strong, too many innocent lives would be in the crossfire. so she had to retreat. leave her people dishonorably to cheat death, try to bide more time, find whispers of rebellion somewhere in this galaxy. but there were no whispers. not even a silent nod.
so she was to exist until she fizzled out. a future once promised a distant dream. a woman left with no purpose.
“ but all hail the empire, right? “
eris stood up suddenly, adjusting her clothes once more, shame written all over her face, even as she smiled with those glassy eyes. she couldn’t bear to dwell on it anymore. so she began to talk quickly, thumb pointing toward the ramp.
“ you know what I’ve observed during my time here? people talk. and then they go together to a place and have a drink. and then they come out, and look much more content. “ sad smile faded into something a tad more genuine, giving a shrug.
“ it’s something in the building, or something in the drink. I think I’d like to go. wouldn’t you like to go? “ beginning to backtrack toward the closed ramp.
“ come. clean up first. show me this place. “ eris stood patiently, rocking once on her toes.
“ please? “
Bron'ig didn't shift under her scrutinizing gaze, but he sure did feel like it. Something about her said an air of importance, grace, and kindness. This he ACTIVELY tried to run away from. But then underneath - right there - is a thread of immeasurable SORROW.
His eyes drop from her face to rake over her form. Bron'ig's expression was passive and clinical. It was reminiscent of a droid, not for any particular reason other than most often he found himself UNFEELING when he was in between jobs. A default state, almost.
Her words were when the mask finally faltered with a sharp inhale and a twitch of his EYES. A DIFFERENT FATE. pain. sorrow. griEF. GRIEF. GRIEF. Gloved hands flexed and then clenched at the void in his chest growing, the ever-persistent low hum in his ears got louder.
Bron'ig's gaze snapped to meet her eyes as she gave him her name again. Now he remembered. The lack of following titles told him all he needed to know, having a feeling she would've said Queen to emphasize the change in time.
Then her question confirmed his suspicions. As much as it made him falter for a second. Bron'ig looked at her, opened his mouth, closed it, and then turned and touched something on the wall.
A clank, and then a hum. The smell of burning dust filled the air for a second until another clank and the ventilation rustled Bron'ig's hair, the telltale signs of a heating system being revived.
"What exactly would I be running from?" he asked, a little guarded, though there was a conscious effort for his tone to remain kind.
Glancing around, he realized there was not a single chair upon which to sit. Because he didn't really. Either he was in the cock pit, standing at the screens and workbench, or sitting on the floor.
A frown pulled at his lips, "Apologies," he murmured. A loud SCREECHING of metal echoed out as one of the seats from the cockpit flew into the room, evidence of it having just been ripped out of the ship itself at the bottom. His other hand moved in the direction of the wall, and the metal warped to accept the chair.
she continued to keep a close eye on his expression, apparent that his mind was louder than his mouth. In a way they mirrored the other, on two opposite ends of how they dealt with what fate had given. one was crushed so deeply that it had collapsed in on itself, pulling everything in the remaining void in its wake. the other bled out profusely, unable to stop, even if she tried to cover the cracks.
bren’ig’s hesitation to answer told her all she needed to know, confirming her own suspicions. he moved like he couldn’t bear to have her look at him for too long, uncomfortable and busy while his eyes darted around the room.
she didn’t bother turning around at the sound of the violently screeching metal, only blinking while she listened to it happen. my…
when it stopped, then and only then did she turn to see the chair… ‘adjusted’ just for her, eris clearing her throat while she smoothed her swathed clothes. eye contact focused into her lap while she fought a smile about it, finding it inappropriate to show her amusement on the matter.
so instead, she focused on his question that had diverted her question.
“ …well there’s much to run from, isn’t there? “ delicate in her answer. he had fought in the war, had not? surely there was plenty.
“ mainly…the things we don’t want to catch up with us. like….painful things. things that scare us… things that could… break us. “ gaze flickered back up to meet his, careful. she then inhaled to loosen the tightness in her chest, hands clasping together.
“ that would make two of us. “ she offered so that it didn’t feel so pointed, the sound of the heating filling the silence.
“ …all the way to the outer rim. “ voice trailing off. clearly, he had been at this longer than she had. jaw squared at her own hesitation, lips switching between pressing together and frowning, like it would keep the words from tumbling out of her mouth.
but she had to know. for her own sanity. what was yet to come. even though the answer stood right in front of her. in a fallen man. all around her. in a ship haunted by it.
“ …is it lonely, still ? “
Bron'ig followed her silently up the ramp to his ship and closed the hatch behind him with the flick of his wrist.
"I doubt you could find many that are truly effective for the average person around here against the reward. Lucky for you, I do not find pleasure in such deplorable acts," he responded without a hint of amusement.
His ship was...interesting if one were to put it politely. The spot for the dejarik table was completely gutted. In its place sat a workbench adorned with various bits and bobs - some parts were for his lightsaber, others were for blaster parts, while others were for ship parts.
Gracefully yet urgently, he strolled past her - twisting his body so they wouldn't touch as he passed - and slammed the arsenal door shut, though its contents remained visible
The cage held a vast array of weapons he collected over the years, ranging from magnaguard staffs from the Clone Wars to current standard-issue Stormtrooper blasters. There were spears, thermal imploders, weapons of all kinds. Most notably: hanging up was a full set of KYR'TSAD BESKAR'GAM, the recognizable armor and emblem (to some, depending on the individual's level of knowledge) of the Mandalorian terrorist group.
On a wall to the right was something straight out of a crime or war holodrama: with various files pinned to the screen, pictures pulled up, and maps with pins all over the galaxy and even more in-depth ones with building schematics. The writing accompanying the work written in Stujan Mando'a was mostly to protect himself. Despite a lack of understanding, the average person could tell it was tracking someone or something down, mostly Mandalorian-related.
A few dark cloaks were scattered on the floor in the corner, remnants of having been tossed there when entering the ship, possibly out of habit. The kitchenette held a singular mug in the wash basin. A small mattress on the floor, a single pillow, and a thin, bare blanket folded at the bottom of the mattress rested at the base of the strategic board. It spoke of many nights staring at the screen.
The ship didn't even have a proper name. Just a series of numbers after he stole it from a bounty hunter attempting to return a slave. It was minimalist, spoke of no inner personality or identity outside of those things. The ship was cold and sterile. It was not a home, it was a place to sleep, to plan, to travel.
Bron'ig's back was to the woman again as he took the brooch out of the small pouch at his side and rested his helmet on the workbench. He didn't acknowledge her, not as he attempted to figure out exactly what his plan was.
The dark side was eerily quiet. Bron'ig stopped in his place and turned to look at her, wondering if she was doing anything. He didn't think she had the training to wield the Force in such a manner. Her parents wouldn't let her join the Jedi Order, he remembered. She was certainly too ol-
( NOT TOO OLD. )
A chill spread across his body as he finally understood. Oh. Eyes blaze as the Force sings.
Bron'ig's head snapped abruptly away from her and crouched to place the small brooch under the pillow. It was the most singular personal item that was not functional.
He didn't know how to make conversation anymore. When he was killing people, hunting people down, getting information, Bron'ig was all charm. It was like a mask appeared, and he became a different person; the dark side took over, and he felt powerful.
But legitimate small talk? That was....a different man.
"You remembered my name from the day I visited your planet," Bron'ig finally broke the silence, pushing off on his knees to stand and address her. He shook his head, "You can call me Bron'ig."
the inujan princess’s attention was already all over the interior, finding the story within these walls. she’d only been on a few transport type ships. but something about the way this was set up definitely didn’t seem like the norm. and the more she looked, the more she could see why. deconstructed an reconstructed. an area just for weapons caught her eye, brow creasing while she craned her neck, attempting to look as subtly as she could. all different types of weapons, some she were all too familiar with.
he replied.
….oh. and he was serious about his answer. despite the fear he had instilled within her earlier. gaze trailed after him in silence while he quickly moved past her, the hanging armor being the thing she noticed the most. the symbol painted onto it. why did that look familiar?
the cage door shut and eris turned to focus her eyes on something else to make it appear as if she wasn’t dwelling on it, but still sifting through her thoughts. the last six months had made her so foggy, anything past surviving the day becoming a bit blurry.
but then she remembered.
obi wan’s back was to her when she glanced his way, confusion temporarily settling on her features. … surly this wasn’t HIS armor? more questions had arise when she scans the area behind her, pictures and writing scattered all throughout.
this was a different man now. perhaps a man far removed from his former self.
now that there was no one to hide from, eris gently pulled her hood back to her shoulders, flipping dark waves out from underneath it to breath. there was much to think about. the complexity of this new man. the immense pain that was held within his form. and the way she gravitated toward it like a light—when she should likely run. run far away.
but she’d already done that.
the former jedi finally spoke after he’d settled, standing to approach her with a different air than he previously had.
eris was silent in response at first, studying his face while the cogs turned in her head, putting things together.
“ … I do remember…. “ her voice trailed off, a twinkle in her eye. “ ..I think I had held onto it because I was hoping for a different fate. “ for her. for inuja. but there was no cheating fate. the look on her face reading that it was almost amusing. a slow nod was finally given, repeating his name.
“ bron’ig. “ soft, like a thought was still tied to it.
“ …..eris. “ a sad smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes following. like it had hit her for the first time that this was indeed goodbye. to it all. since they were both no longer worthy of the names and titles they once held. in their own eyes.
“ ….have you run away, too? “ eris questioned quietly, taking one step closer. from his former self, from what was.
