Stuff I write... stuff other people write... maybe even stuff I just like that I find online... and I love those deep thinkers out there. Give me some theories and brain fuckery, my people! My korra fanfic: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11503670/1/
Youâre randomly doodling in a notepad when it suddenly bursts into flames and shoots a fireball straight into the ceiling much to the shock of those around you. You have just rediscovered runic magic.
a few possible reasons we don't know anything about Obi-Wan Kenobi's birth planet, Stewjon: it's doesn't fucking exist
Obi-Wan was abandoned as an infant on the Temple steps, so the Jedi have no idea where he came from; 'Stewjon' is a code used within the Order to denote such a mysterious origin without disclosing the fact that children are abandoned on their steps to the Senate
Obi-Wan's parents lied on his intake forms, making up a home planet that doesn't exist to ensure that the Jedi couldn't send the child back to them no matter what
Toddler Obi-Wan was dropped off with the Order, and upon being asked by the friendly Jedi, decided to choose Chaos and make up a fake planet for fun
regardless, Anakin tries to look up 'Stewjon' for years in hopes of learning more about his Master and loses his mind when all he ever finds is Obi-Wan's intake form
It was removed from the Records for the express purpose of frustrating him. Probably by Obi-Wan himself. Master Nu went along with it because she hates him, too.
The planet was destroyed in a terrible tragedy and no one wants to talk about it.
The planet existed solely to spawn Obi-Wan and then stopped existing immediately after.
STEWJON is an acronym. Anakin spends days trying to figure it out. And still tries on occasion.
Stewjon is actually Coruscant, but in some stupid archaic language that literally no one in the galaxy could possibly know or care about except for Obi-Wan.
Stewjon and any information on it exists solely on the quantum plane. It can be found but if you look away it vanishes. Anakin found information on it only once but he turned away to congratulate himself and when he turned back it was gone. He was never able to find anything after that.
The heartbreaking truth about star wars fix-its is that if Order 66 hadnât gone out, Obi-Wan & Cody would have carried out their mission normally and at the end Obi-Wan would have returned Boga to her keepers and said goodbye to her and called her a good girl and then he would have left her behind and Iâm going to be in tears about this.
That night in bed, I thought about how special that felt and how lucky we are. Physical intimacy, either romantic or platonic, is not something that is promised. For queer people, it is certainly not something that is even always safe, especially in public but sometimes even in private. But it is so, so important. Iâve always been bad at moderation. I eat too much and I drink too much because I want to be so full of every good thing. These days, touch is no different.
So now, I try to hold Joe, and my other friends, as often as possible. And I am also trying to relax and let myself be held. Itâs not exactly a kiss hello on the mouth, like how my older new friends in San Francisco greet me. But itâs not not that, either. I like both, and I want both. And I think I can have them. I think we all can.
We (you, me, society, the women on The View, Freud, or whoever) sexualize touch, and then romanticize sex, to the point that theyâve become inextricably linked â to the point that weâve been indoctrinated into that boring, straight edict that ThErE iS sOmEtHiNg ThErE every time someone touches us. That every single touch means something.
And perhaps there is something there, and perhaps every touch does have meaning. Maybe it means I care for you. Maybe it means I love you, and I hope you feel comfortable and safe. Maybe it means I think you look hot, sexy, and very cool, and I want you to know that. Maybe it does some of the time. God, I hope it does.
Also, maybe that is fine. The whole point of being gay is that we get to make up our own rules. We get to hug and kiss and touch our friends (as long as they want us to) and erase the lines, not just blur them. In The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions, Larry Mitchell wrote, âThe rule is: You get more warm fuzzies by giving away all your own warm fuzzies. Keeping your warm fuzzies to yourself results in a large accumulation of cold prickles.â There are quite enough cold pricks in the world; I think itâs best we focus on giving away our warm fuzzies.
Why Don't We Kiss Our Friends More? by Garrett Schlichte
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Nine: Deeâja Peak
The mist from the waterfall billowed into giant clouds, reaching as far up as the balcony on which Rex and I sat. The wind was gentle and warm, making the light dance across the long grass below us. I sipped at my caf, watching Rexâs fingers tap nervously against his own cup. I smiled gently at him, admiring the way the morning light cast across his sharp features.
âYouâre allowed to relax, you know,â I teased, laughing against the warm brim of my mug. His golden eyes flickered to me briefly before casting back out over the vast mountains and crashing waterfall. I sighed through my nose lightly and set down my mug. âWhatâs bothering you?â I leaned forward to touch his arm,
His fingers stilled, a slow breath escaping his chest, but he still didnât look at me. Instead, his gaze cut nervously back towards the streets off to our side. They were hardly full, considering the small size of the town, but I understood what he meant immediately.Â
âThis place is discreet,â I promised gently. âAnd itâs remote. Theyâve probably never even seen a clone without his helmet. And they get a lot of people passing through looking for some quiet time away from prying eyes.â Rex finally turned to me, but it was only to give me a frown. I returned it. âFine, maybe not a lot, but the people who do come through, are safe. I swear it. Oriâhaat.â
âThe woman here seemed to know you,â he said finally, nodding his head towards the small shop we were dining in. His voice was deep, still groggy with sleep, making me smile again. Weâd arrived at Deeâja Peak the night before, but had done nothing but eat and go to bed on my shuttle. Rex had been far too anxious to go out and explore as Iâd encouraged, though heâd blamed it on being tired and wanting to get some extra rest on this âvacation.â Iâd let it slide, but it wasnât going to work today. Iâd gotten him up and immediately forced him to breakfast at the small restaurant in town.
âShe did,â I admitted, forcing myself back to the conversation. âIâve been to Deeâja Peak before, remember? And itâs not like itâs big.â
Rex nodded, looking out over the waterfall again. âIâll admit, I couldnât believe your memory was a real place,â he said, recalling our shared dream on Kadavo.
I smirked, muttering into my mug, âYou should see the lake country.â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Eight: Return to Naboo
Despite my detour, Iâd still left enough in advance that I arrived in Theed prior to the Chancellor. I landed my craft in a designated hangar. When I left, earning a mix of weird and awe-filled looks, I was hit with how weird it was that I was a recognized member of the GAR and ally to the Jedi. In reality, Boba had been very accepting of my chosen alignments.
Jango may have killed me.
When I entered the courtyard before the royal palace, I saw a group huddled in wait already. There was a lot of security, many eyes turning to me long before I approached them. Their excessive presence made sense when I saw the Queen of Naboo standing beside Senator Amidala. The governor and Senator Organa were there as well.Â
I stepped past the few huddled groups of Naboo natives, their eyes following me, before greeting the senators past the guards. When I was greeted back, the security stepped aside, eyeing the weapons at my hips. I bowed to the Queen, knowing the customs from Padmeâs tutoring, before the senator swept me into a brief hug. I could tell she had wanted to give me a real embrace, but had to keep up a face in the public eye.
Being a politician sounded horrible.
âThank you for joining the security for this event,â the Queen started graciously with a soft smile. âHave you ever been able to see the Festival of Light?â She was small, making me realize how young she was. Naboo had a custom of electing young girls to be Queen, believing children had yet to be corrupted by power and greed.
Honestly, I didnât think they were wrong. But also a child probably shouldn't run a planet. Right?
I couldnât really talk, considering I was standing before two women who either had been, or currently were, successfully running a whole planet as a child.
Padme nudged me and I realized I hadnât responded to the Queen. âSorry,â I grunted, clearing my throat rather awkwardly. âIâve seen it, yes.â I glanced at Padme. âProbably around when you were the queen, actually. Itâs very beautiful, and Iâm sad to say I will be missing it. Unfortunately, Your Majesty, my presence here is merely to pick up whatâs needed for my own part in this mission, away from Theed.â
Padmeâs brow lifted knowingly â sheâd played a part in this, too. I shifted, a little uncomfortable under her gaze, but thankfully the governor saved me.
âItâs a pity,â he said, his voice cheery despite his words. âIâve heard stories of your heroics, Miss Fett.â I winced slightly at the moniker. âIâd hoped to see if you lived up to the tales.â
I forced a practiced laugh. âWhatâs the point in being mysterious and having stories told about me if I just go around proving how good I am all the time?â
âSo youâre saying you are as good as they say?â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Seven: Boba
âRelax,â I hummed to Boba, who sat beside me in the cockpit. âThey wonât give us any trouble.â He still shifted anxiously, watching the comms as he waited for my clearance codes to go through.
If anything, I was feeling the opposite of him. I was relieved to finally be getting him and Bossk off Coruscant. The Jedi Council had been watching me even closer since news of Bobaâs escape circulated. They came to me first, after all.
â-----
âWe will be searching the premises,â Windu announced, arms folded across his chest and expression sour.Â
âWill you, now?â I responded with snark, mimicking his stance. âThatâs hardly respectful of my contract with the Republic. Whatâs this about?â I fully knew what this was about and he was aware of that.
âDonât act stupid. Boba Fett escaped from the Coruscant prison last night. Itâs most likely he came here, looking for you.â
I laughed at him, Anakinâs expression dark over his shoulder. I could tell it wasnât at me, though. âThe last time I saw Boba, he had me kidnapped and tortured. The only reason heâd come here is to kill me, and Iâd shoot him dead first.â Anakin seemed surprised at my words before Windu spoke again.
âI remember how you parted ways, Miss Fett,â Windu said evenly, but I could feel his frustration. âHe would seek you for assistance.â
âYouâre very sure,â I teased, leaning against the polished bartop.Â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Six: Vod
When the elevator doors hissed closed behind the escaped inmates, I let out a long, hissing breath. I could swear my skin was steaming, I was so angry.
âWhat did he say?â Rex asked gently beside me. My private elevator from the back rooms was small, making more than three people pretty uncomfortable. And with a TrandoshanâŚI elected to send Bossk and Boba up ahead of us. Besides, I needed a moment to collect myself.
And we had a facade to keep up.
I turned and began leading Rex back down the hall toward the staff door. âHe was speaking Huttese wasnât he? I know Jango spoke it.â
âYeah,â I replied gruffly.Â
Rex stopped me before I went through the door, turning me to look at him. âHey, are you okay? Iâm not going to turn him in.â Admittedly, the concern had crossed my mind, but I had assured myself Iâd convince him to keep quiet. I guess I didnât have to, and I was actually surprised. He must have read it on my face, giving me a small smile. âIâm not thrilled, but Iâm not about to turn in your only family.â He shrugged, his grin turning teasing in nature. âYouâd never forgive me.â
âYouâre right,â I teased back, relaxing in his hold. He felt it, his hands dropping to rest on my waist.
âDo you want me to leave? Itâs okay if you want to be alone with him.â
I scoffed. âAlone with him and Bossk, you mean. No,â I leaned up, kissing him softly on the cheek. âIâd like for you to stay. If youâre willing to put up with Boba being a jagyc to you, that is.â
âHe really doesnât like clones, huh?â Rex asked with a quirked brow.
I pulled from his grasp, pushing open the door as I muttered, âYeah, something like that.â He doesnât like you, in particular. I wanted to tell him, but I was strangely embarrassed. Was it my brotherâs behavior? It certainly wasnât that I was with Rex.
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Five: The Jediâs Deception
âI am Moralo Eval, and I have great influence here.â So thatâs what the psychopath sounds like. The Force trembled as I struggled to keep my concentration, begging it to show me what I needed to see.Â
âItâll cost you. Double my rate.â I knew that voice anywhere, the speech measured, the sound rusted and low. Cad Bane. There were disgruntled discussions, muffled through the confusion of the Force. Or was it the confusion of my connection to the Force? âMake that triple my rate.â
I felt something shift. Time feltâŚwrong. Like I was drifting within it randomly, rather than along it linearly. âYou donât even remember me? Thatâs very insulting.â The voice drew my attention immediately, the snark in the words all too familiar, despite the years apart. Weâd both changed a lot, but the sass in Bobaâs speech was never going to leave him. I hadnât seen Boba in a long time. Since he was imprisoned, Iâd only seen him sparingly. Between being off world and the difficulty to even gain access, it was practically impossible. Padme and Anakin had both pulled some strings for me a few times, allowing me to see my little vod.Â
Eventually, though, Boba and I agreed to stop my visits. It pained me, and Iâd felt the sorrow within him when he brought it up, but he was right. Despite doing what we could to keep my visits quiet, secrets didnât last long in a prison. And my affiliation with both the Republic and the Fett family already put eyes on Boba. Especially after the mess with Aurra Sing. I would only make things harder and more dangerous for him.
There was another voice I didnât recognize from somewhere in the inky darkness, drawing my attention. âKill him, Hardeen, like the Jedi!â I assumed it was a fellow inmate, and by the echoing sound of clattering dishes, it sounded like the mess hall. I felt my anger rise, making my connection to the Force waver and flux.Â
I cooled my emotions with a deep breath. I was a spectator right now and I couldnât even be sure when these events had happened, or if they were still to come. Either way, there was nothing I could do for someone in the prison. I had to trust in Bobaâs abilityâŚand on the word of someone who didnât particularly like me.
âYou got a problem with Boba,â I heard a menacing hissing voice sound, my nerves calming even further. âYou got a problem with me.â A murderer and a sadist, but Bossk true to his word; he was protecting my family.
 I could hear a beeping, reminding me of a communicator. I focused on it, trying to strain to hear when it was picked up. But it just kept beeping. Was this what I was meant to hear? Was someone in trouble and unable to pick up?
I listened to beeping for a moment longer before sighing, rubbing my hands against my eyes and relaxing my posture. Strangely, the beeping didnât stop despite releasing my meditative state. My eyes snapped open in a mix of confusion and worry, convinced my real communicator was beeping and Iâd been too stuck in my thoughts. But I didnât see my office. Instead, I was in a large communications room, the designs of the floor making me wonder if I was seeing the Jedi Temple.
My suspicion was confirmed almost immediately as a door hissed behind me, my head whipping around in shock. Masters Yoda and Windu strode through, their eyes forward and slightly above my head. I sat, my mouth agape with my legs folded beneath me on the floor.
Iâd been trying to meditate to sort my thoughts and stop my worryingâŚdid I just transfer myself to the Temple? I hadnât noticed any feeling of my environment changing. Was that even possible? Turns out it wasnât, a surprised squeak leaving my lungs as the two Jedi walked directly through me like a cloud. It was a weird feeling, considering I didnât feel anything on my skinâŚbut my mind felt the pressure and the weird essence of transparency. It made the hair raise on the back of my neck.Â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter 84: A Calming Cup of Tea
Embo stayed the night in one of the spare rooms in the back of my club. They were meant for my workers to stay in, but they werenât always actually occupied. Workers came and went, after all.
After fueling up his ship and giving him some supplies for the road, the bounty hunter was gone. I was sad to see him go, but Iâd especially miss Marrok. The anooba had snuck up to my chambers to cuddle in the middle of the night and itâd been the best surprise anyone could ask for. Iâd seen him rip men to shreds, but he was also a sweetheartâif he and his owner liked you, that is.
I shrugged on a jacket as I walked down the winding stairs from my office. The club was closed in the mornings, the cleaning crew working their magic to make my establishment shine again. The bar itself was empty, Earl likely sleeping off the busy night. Rouva, however, never seemed to need rest.
âYouâre out early this morning,â she observed from where was sipping her morning brew. Her pale violet legs were folded lazily over the lush pillows of the booth, her robes emerald green and pooling over her thighs. âTea?â
âNo thanks,â I forced a smile, despite my exhaustionâIâd been up all night worrying over Hardeen. Had the Jedi captured him? Why hadnât I heard anything? How was Dooku connected, if at all? And what was the Jedi Council hiding?
âWhatâs the rush?â the Twiâlek called as I moved to rush past her. I stopped, sighing while I dragged my hand down my face in hopes of wiping away the tired expression. It probably didnât work, considering the deepening of Rouvaâs frown when I turned back to her. âWhat did you and Embo talk about?â
I shook my head. âSomething isnât right,â I allowed.
She gave me a sad look, opening her hand to me. âYouâre grieving, Pika. I know nothing feels right.â
âThatâs not what I mean,â I brushed her outstretched hand away. Rouva only scowled at me. âIâm not in denial either,â I promised, chewing my lip, âeven though itâs going to sound a lot like denial.â
Air whistled gently through her bejeweled nose as she sighed. âI really do insist on tea. You seem like you need it.â
Maybe some caffeine and a talk to get my thoughts in order would help. I didnât sleep, after all. And it wasnât everyday someone went to speak to the Jedi Council. Though I seemed to be making a habit of it.
I sat with a heavy sigh, accepting the hot cup Rouva slid across the polished table. âEmbo told me about a job he and a slew of other top-tier hunters were invited to.â
Her elegant brows lifted. âThatâs a lot of manpower. The client is an ambitious sort,â she mused before asking, âDo you know who it is?â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Three: The Funeral
It was rare that outsiders were let into the Jedi Temple. Those that worked in it went through vigorous venting and background checks to even gain access. One of the times there were exceptions, thoughâŚ.were funerals.
It was rare that a Jedi was close with someone outside the Temple. Enough for them to come to their funeral, at least. But in these weird times where the Jedi dipped their toes in politics and war alike, they had a wider variety of people they would call friends.
Even the Duchess of Mandalore had made the trip for the event. She, along with Senator Amidala, were clad in black dresses. Satine had tears streaming down her face, her hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her cries. I stood on Padmeâs other side, my eyes on the covered form of Obi-wan. There were Jedi all around us, their hoods pulled up to cast shadows over their features. Ahsoka and Plo-Koon were beside me, the padawanâs troubled spirit tapping at my thoughts. It was hard to focus on anything with Anakinâs darkness, though.Â
He was standing at Obi-wanâs feet, his stare unfaltering and brewing with anger and sorrow. Ahsoka was staring at him, but I couldnât bring myself to look again. When I had, I was smacked in the face with visions of his motherâs death. Of Qui-Gonâs funeral. Of Obi-wan falling from a rooftop, chest steaming from the blaster shot.
I couldnât bear to see it again.
Still, it all felt wrong. Obi-wanâs body was beneath a cloth before us, surrounded by senators and jedi who loved him. He was gone, yet something felt off in the Force. Of course, it was hard to feel anything but Anakin right now, his Force signature was so potent and dark. And I knew it was hard to feel things on Coruscant, seeing as there are so many people and the war and the endless conflict is blurring everything. But stillâŚ.why hadnât I felt Obi-wan pass?
Maybe it was cocky to think that I would have the ability to feel that at all.
if Cody dies in Bad Batch season 2 then he dies in Bad Batch season 2 and there isnât anything we can do about it. but if he does, it better fucking hurt.
and i donât mean like a sad scene, i mean genuinely painful.
i mean the Batchâs eyes widening, i mean Hunter whispering âCodyâ, i mean Omega recognizing his name but being confused because sheâs never seen any of her family so shaken. i mean Echo freezing, i mean Hunter being completely at a loss as how to get him down without killing him, i mean Tech trying to get the medbay up and running but itâs no use because they canât get Cody back there. i mean last ditch plans, i mean Rex being a string of heartbroken curses as he tries to get Cody to wake the fuck up and none of it is fucking working but no one is giving up because thatâs Cody, thatâs their older brother, thatâs the guy that took them under his wing and gave each of them a shot and never ever gave up on them, so they canât give up on him now.
i mean Codyâs nose bleeding with how hard heâs trying to fight the chip. i mean Cody crying without realizing it because heâs in there, somewhere, and he doesnât want to be doing any of this
i mean Rex yelling about Obi-Wan, actually fucking name dropping him, as a last resort because Cody loved that man so deeply it wasnât even rational but it was real and Rex knew that. i mean recognition flashing over Codyâs face for a second, his gun dipping slightly, and everyone thinking it worked, and then his face hardens and he says âObi-Wan Kenobi was a traitor, just like the rest of the Jedi. he got what he deserved. now you will too.â
i mean complete silence as they bury him because they couldnât even help him even though he helped all of them so many times.
if Cody is going to die, it better be heartbreak served to us on a fucking silver platter and i will accept nothing less than that.
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-Two: The Workshop
I took a long, shaky drink when I finished my story, my hand trembling visibly. Rex saw it, but was silent. He was thinking, his eyes on me, but distant at the same time. He stared at me for a long moment longer, my fingers digging at the sides of my glass.Â
Finally, the captainâs golden gaze refocused on me and he shrugged. âWerâcuy,â he said with a shake of his head.
âI canât forget it, Rex. Any of it. The warden. The things he did.â I looked away, tears brimming in my eyes. Damned alcohol. âThe things I did,â I added in a sad whisper before looking back at the soldier, speaking louder now. âAny of it.â
His gaze softened, his skin wrinkling as he grinned, the lines made darker by the stubble of hair appearing on his jaw. âIâm not asking you to,â Rex assured me gently. âIâm asking you not to think Iâd be angry knowing those things.â He stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek softly. âYou didnât deserve any of this, Kida. None of what happened to you or your friends was your fault.â He brushed the tear from below my eye before leaning back and taking a drink. He shrugged at me with a small smirk. âArguss got what he deserved. I knew what I was doing when I left him to your mercy.â
My brow lifted. Iâd known Rex had a darker side, but I hadnât realized he would be so accepting of the things Iâd done. Accepting of the fact that my past had caused a darkness in me so deep, that when I fell in, it was hard to get out.
âIâm sorry I called you âpeople.â â I sighed slowly. âIt was wrong of me to group you into the other people in my life.âÂ
Rex nodded with a gentle smile. âAnd Iâm sorry if I overshared with my brothers. I need to talk to someone though. I know you must talk to someone.â
I thought for a moment about how I internalized basically everything. But then I also thought about my growing friendship with Padme. Ahsoka even seemed to have more knowledge than she let on. Even Fives was like a brother to me. Maybe I wouldnât talk about my relationship with his captain with himâŚ.but maybe Rex should.
âYouâre right. You should have an outlet. But could you keep our problems between you and maybeâŚ.one? Two, maybe?â
Rex smirked at me but nodded. âI suppose itâs already a risk that the boys know about us.â
Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that sheâs involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?
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Chapter Eighty-One: Monster
âHey, how is she doing?â I heard Kixâs voice from somewhere behind me. He wasnât really whispering, but he probably assumed I couldnât hear over the thumping of the music. Of course, Iâd spent years of my life building this club from the ground, and I was more than used to deciphering speech between the performances.Â
I didnât react though, keeping my back to them as I collected drinks from Merl. Rexâs voice was quieter, though I could still make it out. âSheâs strong,â he assured, but was silent for a moment before adding, âIâm worried about her.â
The last of the drinks made it to the tray on the counter before me, but I only stared at the shining liquid, my finger scratching the edge of the tray. Merl cleared his throat, getting me to look up. The Weequay knew me well, giving me a small, slightly sad nod. He lifted the tray and held to me expectantly. I finally took it. His wrinkled finger reached across the bar, his knuckle lifting my chin, only to tap my nose gently.
He gave me a real smile now, and I couldnât help but return it.
The clones were acting the same as Iâd left them when I returned, arms filled with drinks. I passed them out easily, the smile fading to a fake one as their gazes cast at each other meaningfully. They were silently agreeing about their worry for me. Simultaneously understanding that theyâd continue the discussion later when I was gone again. My full drink was down my gullet before I could even think.
I cleared my throat. âExcuse me, but I need another drink, and Iâve clearly interrupted something.â They didnât get the chance to respond, their tongues still dazed by my abruptness while I walked back to my bar.
Merlâs brow rose as I approached again, his shoulders slumping over the bar. âFinished your drink a bit quicker than usual, miss.â
âShare some Merenzane Gold with me,â I countered, kicking a barstool under my hip.Â
Nothing happened for a second, but I kept Merlâs gaze steadily, my head tilting with a pompous smirk. Finally, the bartender turned and drew two glasses, handing one to me. Our drinks clinked nicely, the ice cubes dancing off the sides like a melody.Â
âWhat are we drinking to?â
I shrugged, peering over the rim of my glass. âThe act of drinking?â
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