#sansya

[tiefighter]

NOW I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT SWTOR BUT THAT WITH ALY AND HARRY

Harry doesn't do people. He's gruff, forty one and still holding a blaster which says a lot about his ability to stay alive. His daughter's a Jedi, training at the academy and he misses her like a limb so when he runs into more Jedi he can't help but ask, his words caught between his tongue and the cold morning air."I don't know her, but I'm sure she's fine!" The little...blue girl is smiling at him. He's not sure what species she is but she speaks with an even, warm timbre to her voice and her curled hair reminds him so much of Peyton it smacks him in the stomach. He nods, blaster rifle held against his shoulder and the shots over the bridge just keep coming. He wants a break. He wants-"Aly knows more about the kids at the temple anyway. Aly?!" She shouts and there's silence for a moment as the man standing off to the side wraps up his conversation, hood thrown back and scarred cheek turned towards them. Mirialan, he's all straight jawed and straight shouldered and really, Harry doesn't like dealing with Jedi if he doesn't have to. They're very...serene. It sort of creeps him out. The Jedi wandering over to them looks a little less straight laced. Pale red eyes and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he's getting his hands dirty in a place he doesn't have to, the smile quirking at the corners of his mouth at odds with how sad he looks. "Yes, Sansya?" Indulgent to the extreme of her, he leans down a little, like Harry does for Peyton when she wants to talk (wanted to talk) and that clenches at something in his chest. "Harry's daughter is at the academy. Peyton, was it?" Personable, Sansya is bouncing on the balls of her feet and the other Jedi, Aly, looks down as he thinks."Blonde? About eight?" It's still too soon after he'd let them take her, four years old and wondering why her daddy couldn't come. He nods, hand clenched on the butt of his rifle and the Jedi (Aly, he needs to use the name) nods, smiling with the knowledge of someone that's met her. "She's doing well. A bit caught up in the newness of it all, but it's only been four years. She likes the battle training a little too much, but she'll grow out of that. She'll be fine."Harry's breath leaves him all at once, his shoulders sag and the green, scarred hand on his shoulder seems like all that holds him up. She's okay. She's fine. She's alright. "She's strong. You should be proud." He is proud, but he misses her more. Sansya smiles at him, bright teeth against dark skin and he reaches out on impulse, tugs at the strand of hair that's fallen over her face and the look she gives him is sort of hilarious and mostly just painful. "I am." 

[tiefighter]

aly as a padawan and babby sansya :D

There's a tiny blue girl climbing the back of his shirt.Aly's helping out Master Kiliyan for the day, the new padawans all still missing home, missing parents. He doesn't remember having any so he can't really say he knows how that feels. He'd been told, once, that his father had been a Jedi but how could that be? They weren't allowed to have families and he still had the ghost of warm, heavy hands on his shoulders, a voice he can't understand calling something similar to his name.The tiny blue girl is at his shoulders now, her arms flung around his neck as he sits there and tries to meditate. It's going about as well as expected. "Can I help you?""You look sad. Fixing it." She's just out of baby talk, her tongue catching on words and sending them spiralling sideways as she pats the back of his head. "I'm not sad." He's not. He can't be sad. He's not supposed to be. She pouts (he can almost hear it) and when she moves she falls off his back and clambers around to his lap, sitting very determinedly on his crossed legs. "You are sad." He has two pudgy hands on his cheeks now and she's about four, still full of the knowledge that her mother loves her and has to leave her at the temple for her own good and Aly wishes, abruptly, that the girl wasn't a Jedi at all because she wouldn't be siting in his lap and he wouldn't /know/ these things. "I'm not sad." He's not. He's lonely and that's different. He's faster than the others. Stronger. They're not unfriendly but they're not-. Well. She smiles at him, gap-toothed and bright. "I'm a fix it?""I'm not sure you can." He frowns, not wanting the Master to look over and see them although he's sure she knows and he'll get a lecture about emotions later and-Her arms flung around his shoulders, she kisses him on the cheek and laughs in his ear until he hugs her back, tugging on the short ponytail at he nape of her neck.