“Is that you, Khim? Oh, gods . . . it’s been so long.”
Sooooo...at this point I’m pretty much entirely done with SWTOR, but y’know the one person who’s able to motivate me to churn out some related artwork? @erinmccomics. Seeing Outlander!Khim pushing through stuff and being a good person, and meanwhile I’m like “. . . so where’s Alexei in all of this? Because that’s something I need to know.” Long story short: they’re off with the Blacklist Six taking care of bounties against Zakuul. It just so happens that their ship crashlands onto Odessan, where Alex proceeds to have a flashback, because crashing ships? They remember crashing ships. The one was called the Aurora and that was fuuuuuuuuuun.
So yeah, still heavy-set against returning to SWTOR, buuut I did want to shout out Erin because her content is great! And I love the idea of Alexei coming to Khim’s aid as he figures everything out. I think they’d be really glad to see one another. <3
Handsome enough to startle the sense out of somebody. Story beneath the cut.
They’d drifted apart by the time they became teenagers - occupied more with learning roles and history than playtime. There was the occasional meet-up, the first time they’d shared when they turned 16, but Miroslav hadn’t seen Alexei since. He never learned what their role was, but it must’ve been secretive. They’re out of sight more than he is, and he’s an Investigator.
And then, all at once, the Serial Killers and Arsonists and Mafia were out of hiding, and all of the older town was dying off like flies on electric wires. It was another massacre, another mystery … all far too familiar for the history of the town of Salem.
He must’ve been twenty-four, and Miroslav wasn’t sure what to make of any of it, not the people around him or the way gazes changed or when one of the old friends he’d trusted the least reveals himself to be Mayor. And he still doesn’t know what to believe, so he spends each night, and he interrogates, and most of all he waits.
It feels like all he does is get pummeled with questions, and wait.
He comes to with a start. He can’t see anything in front of his eyes; there’s a thick blindfold covering them, so dark he can’t even see light past it. His arms are tied behind him, and he can only guess he’s strapped to a chair, given his spread legs and the sturdiness beneath him. Miroslav isn’t even sure how he got here. He remembers it was evening, and he’d been going to interrogate an old friend who claimed Escort earlier in the day, and then he’d felt a squeeze on his neck and …
There’s a thud nearby. His whole body tenses up. Miroslav can hear relaxed breaths, and the clinging of some old equipment made of metal. There’s a squeak like door hinges, and footsteps. Then, silence.
He feels a brush on the inside of his thighs - starts when he feels a boot stepping up onto the chair, between his legs.
“I’m only going to ask you once. Give me your role - and make it convincing.”
The Jailer. Miroslav swallows the lump building in his throat. The old Jailer had been less than kind, perhaps, but he’d never been … rough. He hadn’t known him well; he’d been one of the first old townies to die. But Miroslav had never heard about his apprentice, and hasn’t found them yet. He pulls in a breath through teeth, and lets it out as calmly as he thinks he can.
“Investigator,” he says. He’s quick to add: “I left my notes at my house, but I’ll give you any information I have, provided it’s useful.”
“Hmm,” they respond. The boot slides off his chair; he lets out a sigh of relief, but a hand is quickly grabbing his chin and forcing up his face. Miroslav fights not to startle. His face is being tilted from side to side, as if they’re looking him over. He’s not sure what to say, so he rambles.
“I’ve found a mafia,” he offers. “Framer, goes by Josiah. I’m waiting for more evidence before I call him out, but a friend of mine, a Lookout, he’s watching him for me. I thought I found a serial killer too, but it was a false lead. I don’t know much more than that, though I’ve found some town-”
“You’re a nervous rambler, aren’t you? It’s almost rather cute.”
He goes silent at that, and at the way they let go of his face. He’s confused - not sure what to make of such a flirtatious remark - and then there’s hands behind his head, working at the knot of his blindfold, though not taking it off quite yet.
“Close your eyes and wait for a moment after I pull it off. You don’t want to hurt your eyes - it’s brighter in here than you’ll think.”
The fabric comes free of his face, and he opens his eyes. It’s a startling shock of light, at first, and he’s blinking hard. It fades away slowly, and he can barely make out the face of the Jailer in front of him - chiseled jaw, green eyes-
“Wh- Alexei?!”
They’re smirking. But it’s them, in all of their glory, and backlit by the candles outside of the cell. Miroslav’s shocked, not just that they’re the Jailer of all people, but by how … attractive they are. They’d been rather awkward when they were younger - Alexei had been covered in scars from an old accident that had taken their parents - but now, they’ve grown into them, including the one on their face that seemed smeared blow their right eye. Their nose is still sharp, and their eyes big. They fit now, unlike before, and it almost makes them look mischievous, along with the mop of curly hair that dangled over their left eye but was neatly combed back on the other side. Their body is exposed too, shirt sleeves rolled up and hakama pants trimmed just past their knees.
Like this, they really do seem like an old friend, but it’s more than that, something that they hadn’t possessed when they’d been younger. It’s the glint in their eyes, and the way they held their body. Miroslav remembers how often they used to bind their chest when they were younger, often to the point of harm … but their chest is free, and they radiate confidence. It’s almost overwhelming.
The rest of his body seems to agree. It takes no time for Miroslav to try and relax … and notice the tent that was building against his jeans.
“Sorry to scare you like that, Miroslav,” Alexei says in a tone far more relaxed than before, “But it’s part of the job. Plus it’s funny to see you get so nervous.”
He pulls in a breath through teeth, annoyed. “Alexei, you could have just told me.”
“Well, I had to know you were town first, right? Not that it took much convincing - I just can’t see you being mafia, y’know?” they turn away and walk back to the cell door, tossing the blindfold onto a table outside and grabbing a pair of safety scissors instead. “How are you doing? Haven’t seen you since that day you called out the Arsonist.”
“I haven’t seen you,” Miroslav says, “Since we were teenagers.”
“I don’t draw attention to myself while I’m in town. Mayor’s orders,” they say as they walk back over and stand back to look at him. “You’ve sure gotten handsome though. What happened to you, man? Puberty made you totally ripped.”
He wonders if they’ll be able to see him blush in such low lighting. Miroslav prays they can’t. “I kept at the weights while I was studying,” he says. He looks them over. “I can see you have, too.”
“You mean these?” Alexei lifts up and flexes - their arms are nearly braided with their build, and Miroslav feels his pants tighten even more around his straining arousal. “The old Jailer lemme at some of his weights. Well, I guess they’re mind now, with him being dead - but still. He built a gym in the basement, y’know? Jailer has to keep in form.”
“I guess … so,” he says. He’s totally distracted by the way they move. Alexei seems to notice; they give him a smirk, and he looks away, fast.
“So, then,” they say as they kneel down in front of him. “I ended up dragging you here for more than just reminiscing and all that. Y’know, duties and all.”
He hears a snip, and one of the ropes around his left ankle goes lax. Miroslav tries to relax. “Then why?”
Another snip. “Well,” they say, “For a few reasons. One, to make sure you were still town. Two, see if some of my other leads matched up. Three …”
A final snip at his ankle, and his left foot’s free. Miroslav waits for them as they snip off the remaining ropes on his legs, but when they finish they simply put the scissors aside, and lean back on their heels to look at him. He still can’t stand; he’s bound by his hands to the chair. He looks at them, and lifts a brow. “Well? ‘Three’?”
“Well …” they smirk - and suddenly, they’re standing, and stepping over and sitting on his lap. Miroslav nearly squeaks as they rest their full weight against him, pushing their hips against his, and fuck, he’s so hard. He barely manages to restrain the gasp in his throat, though Alexei’s pressing fingers and thumbs against his shoulders and making him give out a breathless gasp anyway. He looks at them through hazy eyes, though all he wants to do is push and just-
“Let’s just say I’ve had some … itches to scratch,” they coo, with a wink. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”
Miroslav licks his lips, and looks over at their smirking, devilishly handsome face once more.
And then all he can think is yes, I fucking do, before leaning forward and crashing his lips against theirs.
Alexei doesn’t totally understand how they’ve made it to their bed when they wake up. Their memories feel fuzzy and disoriented, like they aren’t quite pieced together right. They do remember blinding pleasure, ecstasy, and the weight of a body above theirs. They remember pain, bruising touches, Torian’s breath against their neck . . .
Torian.
When they manage to open their eyes, they can see him sitting up, checking something on his datapad. How he got it when they’re in their bedroom, they don’t know. The moment they shift, though, he looks to them, the datapad discarded on the bedside table.
“Hey,” he whispers in a hush as he leans down and puts a hand to their cheek. His smile is soft, as soft as his fingertips. “You’re probably sore. You don’t need to get up. Mako’s kicked us into hyperspace already.”
They are sore, now that he mentions them. Sore in shapes of handprints and electrostaff imprints, besides the happy ache between their legs and inside. They give a soft smile, and reach up to hold his wrist in their hand, too. “Still feel great,” they croak out. Their voice can’t go higher than a whisper.
Torian doesn’t say anything, but he’s still smiling. He looks down and over them - even with the blankets covering them, he’s analyzing their form, looking over them. His hand skims down their jaw to their shoulder, and back up to brush their hair back. He finally lies down next to them, still with that almost dopey smile, and reaches down to take their hand with his free one.
He pulls their hand up to his lips and kisses each finger before admitting, “I’m in love with you.”
Alexei breaths out a soft ‘heh’. “I could’a told you that.”
“Wasn’t sure how to tell you. Couldn’t decide if I should say something first, or try to show you instead,” he looks down at their bodies. “Seems action won the day.”
Alexei blushes and looks down the length of their bodies as well. “If we’re talking about action, then I think Hoth was a pretty good indicator. I didn’t have a great poker face.”
Torian chuckles again, a warm, low sound. “Still didn’t quite hit me then, either. Couldn’t imagine you wanted me, when I’d just been taken hostage.”
“Torian-”
“No, nayc - maybe I knew then. Maybe just didn’t want to fully admit it,” Torian sighs. He releases their hand, and wraps his arms around them to pull them against his chest. “Fully aware of my place in the equation. Not much of a hierarchy for Mandalorians, but I’m son of a traitor and you’re child of Mandalore. Means trouble. But maybe I just brought that upon myself.”
Alexei shakes their head. They wonder if he can hear himself, but Alexei remembers too easily, their own excuses. “Even if Mandalore did adopt me,” they whisper to him as they reach up and graze his cheek with fingerpads, “He doesn’t get a say in who I fall in love with. And besides, he already knows.”
His eyes go big, like whirlpools. “What?”
“He dropped down to Alderaan for my marriage. Moment I told him I was poly, he asked me if I was dating you,” they give him a funny smile. “All he said was to be honest. And for as long as it took, I did right by that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” Torian says, still looking bewildered, still a little lost. The words come slowly to his tongue. “Haat, ijaa, haa’it. Mando’ad drarr digu.”
This time, it’s Alexei’s turn to chuckle. “I don’t know Mando’a, love.”
“Then it’s time for your first lesson,” he whispers as he presses his forehead to theirs. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum. I hold you in my heart forever.”
So somebody mentioned how horrifying they thought the DS option with Skadge was? But here we go, Alexei fucking took it. Reason? They’re...simply shutting down. It’s not here that it happens, but it’s just after rescuing Torian that they stop sleeping. You’ll....find out why shortly.
I don’t have much to say about Belsavis? It’s not my favorite planet mission for Alex. Also: fucking Skadge. In their story, Alexei shoots him in the back of the head and it’s the only decent thing about the damn planet. The rest of the time they’re flooded with paranoia about “this is where I could end up” and that’s just not healthy.
In addition was having Darth Tormen putting the pressure on them. They’re totally down on getting revenge on both Jun Seros and the Supreme Chancellor, but not for somebody else - for them. Unfortunately Tormen doesn’t leave them a lot of options. He gives them pfaasking nightmares, and they only turn turtle because he threatens Torian. This is where Torian definitely starts becoming their rock. Even on Belsavis they’re so shaken they can’t drive a speeder.
So I stopped playing for a little while - just a little - while other things happened this month. But! I got to sit down and play a little more of Alexei’s story . . . and by that I mean I finished Chapter 1 and went right into Chapter 2 guns blazing. Whoops.
Alexei was not excited to have Gault on their ship. They only allowed it because they were sick of chasing him and because Mako suggested they could use him. Thankfully, the two of them began to get along later on, which was very . . . very . . . VERY good. It’s not good when Alexei doesn’t like the people on their ship. Skadge got kicked out the air lock.
Oh, and Alexei totally slipped on Tatooine. It couldn’t be helped, really - their suppressors stopped working like they’d been told they would. So, Mako started to figure out that Alexei was Force-sensitive. Even got a blood sample to check. So at this point, Alexei’s sort of . . . outed. It’s no fun. Thankfully Mako and Alexei got the chance to clear the air a little bit during the interim, but this definitely helped fix things a little more.
So I don’t think Tarro was a good villain in the sense that he had a great motive. But I do think he was a great villain in that he never. Leaves. You. Alone. You are reminded of his presence and watching eye in the whole damn chapter. From Day 1 you know his name, along with that horrific spray-tan, awful tattoo, and cheekbones sharp like a tack. And the desire for him to just fucking die already means that when you finally get to him, you’re done pussyfooting around - you just want him dead already.
Thankfully, I withheld myself this time and got to actually fight him, and lemme tell you, it was damn-well worth it. Besides getting to beat him into a pulp (I was past level 40 at this point), I got to watch him grovel. PLUS Mandalore gives you brownie points for not being a shitthead like he was. Definitely better to play this way.
Besides, if you do just kill him the moment you let him out of his cell, he calls you a coward. BOY WHO IS THE COWARD HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT. I was not doing the same thing this playthrough. Thank god for that.
