Inktober #2 Hyperspace. I had a day, I'll catch up when I'm done with the commission I'm working on :D

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Inktober #2 Hyperspace. I had a day, I'll catch up when I'm done with the commission I'm working on :D
Dank Farrik Drabble #51
It's been forever I've written one of those, but strangely enough it seems the announcement of a Din & Grogu movie made me realize how much I missed them, despite all the doubts still surrounding that annoncement. Hopefully we'll get some clarification soon...
In the meantime, happy new year!
************
Din felt overwhelming tiredness crash over him as he walked through the door. It was late, the cabin was dark and cold, but there was a particular smell greeting him through his helmet filter. One that should have reminded him that they hadn’t been there in weeks and that the place needed to be aired out. But that wasn’t it. It smelled like… He couldn’t quite find the word in his exhausted state. All he knew was that it wasn’t such a bad smell.
With a small shake, he forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. He needed to start the generator, even if the only thing he wanted to do at the moment was to lie down and sleep. Preferably in his own bed, although after the past few nights, any vaguely horizontal piece of furniture would do. Even the carpet at his feet looked inviting right now.
But rest would have to wait.
“Let’s put the food away first, yeah?” he sighed, setting Grogu down. At least they had food, thanks to Greef. The man had kindly provided them with enough leftovers to last for a couple of days when he’d greeted them earlier. Din had to remember to thank him again when he had the chance. That had been very nice of him. That and the bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d gifted him which he always seemed to have at his disposal now that he was – what was it?
Din sighed again. He couldn’t remember. Something grand. Still, that didn’t mean the man had forgotten where he was coming from. Or his friends. He’d wondered at the time if the fur hat he’d gotten him as a present on Taskeed had been too much – Grogu had chosen it – but now he no longer regretted the slightly ridiculous and costly gift. First and foremost, because it was currently unreasonably cold in Nevarro. But really, seeing the smile on his face had been nice. Pleasing, even. And Grogu’s burst of joy when Greef had thanked him, congratulating him on a perfect choice even better.
As he was slowly making his way to their small kitchen, the lights suddenly came on, and their few appliances emitted approving beeps.
“Thanks, kid,” he mumbled in astonishment.
“Ah!” the boy replied from the other side of the cabin. Din was so tired he hadn’t even noticed his short legs had taken him all the way there and that he’d remembered which button to push on the console. It shouldn’t have surprised him. His apprentice had amazing eidetic memory, and he smiled to himself with pride.
“Did you remember to start the back-up generator and the hot water boiler as well?”
Grogu nodded and jumped on the kitchen counter.
“You’re really getting good at this,” he praised, and the small child hummed in contentment, already helping him check what kind of food Greef had saved up for them.
“Looks like we’ll be able to celebrate in style,” Din remarked, spying several containers full of cakes and pies. Also soup, flatbread and dips.
“Yaya!”
“What do you say we heat up a bit of everything and wait for our bedrooms to warm up watching something on the holoprojector?”
Grogu repeated that same word again: “yaya” was the highest level of happiness in his current vocabulary.
It always took a while for the heater to kick in in the small rooms at the back of the cabin, same as for the hot water boiler, and he craved both a warm shower and his bed, but he knew his young apprentice would want food first. Waiting things out on the small sofa under a blanket while watching whatever was on and eating treats was the next best thing.
Tonight – technically in a half an hour – was New Year, which would kick off Fete Week, and a well-deserved five day break here in Nevarro following weeks of intense work for the New Republic. Din no longer celebrated Life Day, and seeing that particular shade of red worn by revelers still filled him with pain, but he had no such qualms about Fete Week.
“Should we check if they’re showing the fireworks on Coruscant? I bet they’re better than the ones on Chandrila,” he suggested, switching the holoscreen on as Grogu settled next to him under the blanket.
“Hmm,” he nodded.
“Dank farrik, I think the remote is still in the kitchen,” Din grumbled, but Grogu raised his tiny arm before he had managed to drag himself from their small nest. The remote flew in their direction and the boy caught it safely.
“Good job,” Din praised. “You find the channel, then.”
He chuckled while his son complained, but this gave him the opportunity to finally remove his helmet and a few pieces of his armor, which eventually earned him a small smile. Grogu had taken that gesture for what it was – they were finally home. And not having to rely on his filter told Din the same thing. That was what this smell meant. The one that had puzzled him so when they arrived earlier.
“Welcome home, kiddo. And happy new year.”
Din huffed, slowly getting back to his feet despite the protests of at least eight major joints. He glared at the smoldering pile of metallic limbs twitching feebly a dozen feet away.
“Rrrresistance is… ill-advi-vi-vi-vised,” the assassin droid sputtered through its smoking vocoder. One of its hands promptly fell off with a clunk.
“I’ll take that into account,” Din muttered, groaning. That had been a nasty attack, but Whistling Birds, the Darksaber, and the ability of beskar to take a hit — or twelve — had won the day. He limped over to the droid’s wreckage and plunged the humming Darksaber into its central processing unit. Sparks scattered as the droid’s eyes finally dimmed.
His comlink crackled in the quiet. “Patu?” Grogu chirped.
Din grinned and raised the device to reply. “Hey, kid. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be back soon.”
Grogu chattered a rapid series of questions in his own private language, one Din had grown quite adept in. He chuckled at the kid’s audacity. Where had he learned that?
“Did I — what do you take me for, Grogu?” Din asked. He bent down, his back creaking, and picked up the severed droid hand. He nodded, clipped it to his belt, and began the walk back to Peli’s. “Of course I got you a souvenir.”
-
Written for @dankfarrikdrabbles, prompts “assassin droid” and “hammered.”
The season might be over...
...but the stories never end! Season 3 of The Mandalorian closed with its last chapter a few days ago, what did you all think? What adventures will Din and Din Grogu take part in? Will they return to Mandalore soon? Visit old friends first? Stay in their new home on Nevarro for a while? To make the wait until Season 4 (or potentially Ahsoka in August?) easier, share your ideas with all of us and write a drabble!
Quick Rules: 5 lines written in 5 minutes in a story format. Or, if you’re an artist, a sketch done in 25 minutes or less. Assign yourself a topic by a random roll then share your results! https://g.co/kgs/WzFPxe Set min to 0 and max to 99. Make a new post and tag @dankfarrikdrabbles to be reblogged! For full rules click here.
Week 56
Objects:
1. Mattress
2. New weapon
3. Pond
4. Pog soup
5. Space IKEA
6. Comlink
7. Marketplace
8. Night sky
9. Game
0. Free Choice
Emotions:
1. Studious
2. Festive
3. Relaxed
4. Cozy
5. Rested
6. Laziness
7. Curious
8. Bored
9. Pride
0. Free Choice
A @dankfarrikdrabbles comic doodle! 25 minutes is definitely not enough time, but I think I did pretty good with my prompts of “cycler rifle” and “resolute.” Also I threw Din and Grogu in because, well, you know why. XD
Dank Farrik Drabble #50
I reached 50, I’m so happy!
Anyway, I'm not really liking the Din Grogu thing, so this is my attempt to make sense of it. Kinda. Hope you enjoy New weapon/Pride! Here are the rules for the challenge if you want to participate.
************
“Din Grogu? Well that’s even worse.”
The Mandalorian sighed and Grogu lowered his ears in Peli’s arms. He was sure that if he still had IG-12 at his disposal, a series of loud “No” would be heard.
“Why’s his name even Din Grogu? Isn’t your name Din Djarin?” she asked, unmoved by their reaction. Peli had never bothered using his own name, and had been very vocal in the past regarding the boy’s patronym – she didn’t like either and would keep on calling them what she pleased. He was usually “Mando” when she was in a good mood, which was rare. More often, it contained the words “bucket” or “idiot”. The child was luckier in that department. Until now at least.
“It’s tradition,” Din replied, hoping that she wouldn’t request him to elaborate. But of course she did, her eyebrows rising impatiently. She was Peli after all.
“He’s my apprentice. I’ve adopted him and he will bear my first name for the duration of his training. Once he’s ready, he’ll be Grogu Djarin.”
The boy nodded, looking at him intently – he’d gone over all of this with him already, and he was showing the same reaction now: a deep sense of pride. Din smiled, remembering how proud he’d also felt when he started as an apprentice all those years ago. That sense of finally belonging, something he’d yearned to find for a long time before being given a real place among his new family.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Peli noted, squarely bringing him back to the present.
“It’s just tradition,” Din tried again with a shrug. “And honorific – people will still call him ‘Grogu’.”
“Well it’s a stupid tradition.”
Din had never liked thinking too much about some aspects of his Creed. He’d just been happy to be given a place somewhere, even if it meant agreeing to things he didn’t fully understand. But part of him sometimes wondered if he should make an effort, because he thought Peli’s remark was warranted. Why shouldn’t Grogu have his last name already?
“So why did you comm me?” he asked her instead – he’d think about all of this some other time. “You mentioned a new weapon?”
He’d learned to be wary of the vocabulary the mechanic used when she was trying to lure him back to Tatooine. Too many times she had almost managed to drag him there with the promise of a new Razor Crest or amban sniper rifle she’d somehow found. So the fact that she had been so vague this time had piqued his interest. Knowing her, it meant it was probably something big.
“Right!” she said, putting Grogu down on top of a nearby crate and rifling through her (many) pockets. “It’s this!”
Peli was holding some kind of rock. Small, with polished surfaces. It was almost transparent and very pretty to be sure, but this was no weapon.
“What is it?” Din still asked, not realizing that his son’s ears had reached epic height on his head.
“This, my bucket-headed friend, is a kyber crystal.”
“It’s a what?”
Dank Farrik Drabble #48
Spoilers for the end of Season 3! I want to thank snowtheup on ao3 for giving me this idea. I guess I couldn't resist some Mandomera to kick off a new batch of chapters to celebrate the end of the season. More prompts to come soon! :)
Please enjoy Marketplace/Curious, and here are the rules if you want to participate!
************
It was Grogu who spotted the stall first. Which was no wonder, the little boy’s head always swiveled in every direction when they visited Nevarro’s marketplace, keen to discover if there was any new food he hadn’t tried yet. He thought his son had simply seen Karga at first, and wanted to say hi. Then he started paying attention to what the high magistrate was buying – spotchka, it looked like, which didn’t surprise Din. The saloon might have closed on the main street, but the man still liked his drink.
It said a lot about him that the first thing he noticed was the rifle on the woman’s back before he recognized the woman herself or the teenager next to her. He could give you the exact reference number of the manufacturer’s model. Tell you how precise it was and how long it could be used for before it needed to be recharged. Which parts were required to fix it should it break down. Where to get them for cheap. He used to own that rifle. It was a very good rifle. And he’d given it to someone who’d meant a lot to him.
But this was years ago, so surely –
Dank Farrik Drabble #49
Another drabble to celebrate the conclusion of The Mandalorian’s third season! I rolled Pog soup/Bored this time, and this made me want to try the recipe. Let me know if you have and if it was successful! Here are the rules for the challenge if you want to participate.
************
“You haven’t visited Mandalore for months, you left without saying goodbye and now you’re finally using your comm station to ask me how to cook pog soup?”
It did sound a bit strange when she said it like that, but at least Bo-Katan didn’t look too cross. Well, her blue image didn’t at least. It had been a relief to learn that Gideon had been the one blocking all communications from leaving the planet, but it didn’t mean Din had suddenly become that much more sociable. And he thought Bo already knew he didn’t do goodbyes. It wasn’t as if he’d completely disappeared from everyone’s radar. He had reached out to the Armorer every once in a while to see if his tribe needed anything, but they seemed all set for now.
“I figured you’d be busy,” Din reasoned, Grogu cooing happily when Bo finally noticed his frantic waves and replied with one of her own.
“But not busy enough to share family recipes?” she remarked with an arched eyebrow. There was a smile there, Din thought. He should update his station to a better one, the quality of the image made it hard to tell for sure.
“Grogu’s been asking for it,” he attempted.
“Your son is talking?”
“You’re the one who said I should learn more about Mandalore’s traditions, and I recall it tasted great.”
This was one more lie, he remembered nothing from that soup. In his defense, he’d been recovering from poisoning at the time. And a concussion.
“Ah bah,” the boy finally concurred with a nod, helping his case.
“Are you really so bored that you’ve taken up cooking?” Bo wondered. “I could definitely put you to work here, there’s a lot – ”
“We’re not bored,” Din immediately said. “We’ve been travelling a lot, and following up on some leads from the New Republic.”
This, on the other hand, wasn’t a lie. Din had been doing exactly what he said he would – taking his apprentice on his journeys and working on a case by case basis for Carson as a contractor, which actually paid very well. They had free time, yes. But they were not bored. What did that word even mean? Their days were full enough when they spent them on Nevarro.
So what if they’d both taken a liking to naps under the sun and leisurely evening walks in town? That was allowed. And what if he’d decided to put his newly earned credits to good use to try out some of the fresh ingredients they sold at the market? He’d never had such a big kitchen before, and barely knew what most of the appliances were for, but the boy deserved nourishing meals. And anything they cooked tasted infinitely better than ration bars – which wasn’t a difficult feat – even when he messed up a bit.
“Fine,” Bo sighed, but Din could tell she didn’t believe him for a second. “I’ll tell you if you promise to visit soon.”
“Fine,” Din agreed.