#swtor-ish

[keldae]

Writer’s Month 2020: Day One

This will learn me to not wait til the last fucking minute next time, Theron grouchily thought to himself as he entered the fourth florist's shop today, sighing as he surveyed the remaining wares. The day before Mother's Day, it seemed, was a very bad day to go looking for the obligatory classic gift for one's mother. And considering it was the first where he and his mother were actually approaching any semblance of a relationship, it was probably poor form to turn up empty-handed. But, after seeing the poor, wilted choices left behind by other customers in every other flower shop in the city, he might not be getting an option in the matter. If this shop had nothing, he was going to just call it and a hope a card would be enough for Satele. Fortunately, this one still looked like it hadn't been completely picked over yet.

Bypassing the small clusters of sad-looking daisies that were probably intended to be gifted by little kids, and some oversized arrangements that had to be for a wedding, he finally saw one remaining bouquet of bright red tulips. Finally, a stroke of luck! That was a nice, classy flower to gift, right? He reached out, intending on claiming the flowers, his hand touching the bouquet at the same instant as another, smaller hand that definitely didn't belong to him.

Frowning, Theron looked at the other person who had reached for the same flowers -- a short, pretty redhead, looking back up at him with a quirked eyebrow over bright green eyes. "... So, this is awkward," he finally said, not moving his hand from the bouquet.

"Very," agreed the girl, looking at the bouquet, then back at him. "Pretty sure I had them first."

"No way," Theron disagreed, shaking his head. "I had them a millisecond before you did."

"As if." The girl hummed in thought, then craned her neck out to look at the store clerk behind the counter. "No chance there's another one hiding in the back?"

The clerk shook his head and grinned. "Sorry, that's the last one. I might have some more carnation arrangements, if it's your respective moms you're buying for…"

"Yeah, but now it's the principle of the thing," Theron said, looking back at the coveted tulips. "I still say I had them first."

"In your dreams." The girl shook her head, then sighed. "It appears we're at an impasse. Halfsies?"

"Look, without getting into too much detail," Theron started, "this is the first Mother's Day I'm spending with my bio-mom, so I don't think half a bunch of flowers is gonna cut it."

"... You present a valid argument," the girl admitted. 

"Yep. What's your argument?"

"Without trying to sound dramatic or anything, it's been ten years since my mum died, and these were some of her favourite flowers, so I always try to put some on her grave when I can…"

"... Shit." Feeling not a little bit like an asshole, Theron sighed and stepped back from the tulips. "I think you win this one. I'm… I'm sorry about your mom."

"Don't be -- it was a long time ago. But thanks." The girl took a breath, then offered Theron a small smile and pushed the tulips at him. "If it's your first Mother's Day with your mum, that's a big deal. You take these."

Theron was already shaking his head. "No, if these were your mom's favourites, then that's a big deal too… and a dick move of me to take them."

"They were one of Mum's favourites, but she had others that she liked. I'll just find something else. She probably wouldn't mind having something new on her stone this year anyway."

"Yeah, but that sounds like it's a tradition for you, and I wouldn't want to break that up."

"I got twelve Mother's Days with my mum. This is only your first with yours. That's a really big deal."

"I mean, yeah, but you already had something with your mom and those traditions are--" 

The girl gave him an exasperated look and gave the tulips a small shake at him. "If my mum was here, she'd agree with me that your situation is the bigger deal here. Shut up and take the tulips."

"... You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'll find something else. Mum honestly liked just about anything remotely flower-like. I think the guy mentioned something about carnations?" She glanced over at the clerk, who was watching the exchange with obvious gleeful amusement.

Theron finally accepted the tulips, and got a satisfied smile from the girl. "If you insist," he acquiesced. "Am I allowed to know the name of the girl who just bullied me into taking the damm flowers?"

"I am not bullying you into taking the flowers! I'm just out-logicing you!"

"I'm pretty sure you just made up that word…"

"All words are made up, and most of ours were made up by Shakespeare. And I'm Xaja." The grin she gave him made his heart skip a beat, despite himself. Damn, she was cute.

He smirked and shifted the tulips to his arm. "I'm Theron," he introduced himself, and for a moment let himself madly hope that she was somehow single. "Can I at least help you out with finding suitable flowers for your mom, since you insisted on mine having these ones?"

Xaja looked him up and down, and smiled. "I think that's an acceptable compromise," she agreed. "Since you obviously have good taste with the tulips."

"I like to think I know pretty things when I see them," Theron winked, and felt gratified to see a little blush on her cheeks. That faded into a moment of embarrassment as he found a flaw in his plan to charm the pretty redhead. "... help me out, which ones are carnations again?" he sheepishly asked, ignoring the clerk snorting back a laugh. At least Xaja had a cute giggle, even if it was at his expense.

Twenty minutes later, he was on his way to Satele’s apartment, with the precious tulips in a small vase, a pleased grin on his face, and Xaja's number on a piece of paper hidden in his pocket. Apparently there were some benefits of waiting til the last minute.

[keldae]

Writer’s Month 2020: Day 15

When the housemates were just too damned loud, and the library was too full of high school students, and the coffee at home was the cheap swill that nobody sane would touch with a ten-foot-pole, the cafe a couple of blocks away was a perfect haunt on a chilly November day. Stamping her feet to clear the worst of the snow off her boots, Xaja took a cursory look around the coffee shop. It looked a little busy today, but seemed to be mostly occupied with a group of senior citizens chatting it up, and one or two individual people with laptops or books. Much more calm and peaceful than the library, ironically enough. 

Stopping by the counter to pick up her usual (large almond milk mocha, extra espresso shot, and a muffin), Xaja looked around for an empty spot. There was one of the nice cushioned armchairs near the fireplace that was miraculously empty; she hurried over before it could be claimed, then paused as she looked at the occupant of the other chair in front of the fireplace. "Anyone in this spot?"

The stranger, a dark-haired guy with striking amber eyes, looked up from his computer and shrugged toward the chair. "Nah. It's all yours."

"Thanks." Giving the guy a small smile, Xaja settled into the chair, situated her coffee and muffin on the table between them, and pulled her laptop out of her bag. The latest chapter she was stuck on wasn't going to write itself, after all.

For a long while, peaceful near-silence fell over the coffee shop, broken by the sounds of the baristas making drinks, and the occasional laugh from the seniors. Xaja found it easy to lose herself in her writing, and was starting to make good headway on the scene she'd been fighting with before the atmosphere was disturbed.

"No, I said a large, sugar free, soy milk cappuccino at precisely sixty-five and a half degrees!" The infuriated squawk jolted Xaja out of her scene; she sighed in annoyance as she looked up at the offending voice's owner. It was a scrawny-looking middle-aged asshole in a suit, berating an unamused barista. "And it's Mister Lorman! Not Lowen, not Lowman, not Lureman -- Mister Lorman! Do  you know who I am?!"

"I think everyone in earshot knows that now," the guy beside Xaja muttered under his breath, without looking up from his laptop. She smirked in agreement and tried to go back to her writing.

"This is why you're just a barista! You can't even make a drink right!" Mister Lorman's voice was increasing in volume with every word. "I make more money in a week than you'll ever see in your miserable life! Now make my drink correctly, and you'd better comp it!"

The guy looked up at that with a raised eyebrow. "Makes that much money and he's mad over a five dollar drink?" he asked in an undertone, probably to himself.

"Course he is," Xaja muttered. "He clearly spends it all on Viagra to compensate for some personal… shortcomings." 

That made the guy snort a laugh. He shot Xaja a quick grin and a wink that made her heart skip a beat, then looked back to the drama brewing at the counter.

"Yes you will comp my drink! I pay your salary! I can own this entire dump of a cafe!" Xaja was honestly surprised that the douchebag hadn't literally stamped his foot yet. "Get me your manager! I demand to speak with whoever runs this stupid shop!"

"Okay, 'Karen'," Xaja muttered at the same time as the guy beside her. Surprised, they looked at each other, then exchanged a smirk and looked back at the counter, now unified in their camaraderie of muttered commentary over the single worst customer Xaja had ever seen in this coffee shop. When she looked around, she could see the other patrons of the cafe also watching the drama, with expressions ranging from amused to judgmental. Even the old-timers had paused their chit-chat over coffee to eye the commotion, giving some serious judgey eyes over the rims of their paper cups.

“What do you mean, you’re the manager?” Seemingly having an aneurysm over the barista being unfazed by the tantrum she was being subjected to, Lorman sputtered in rage for a good twelve seconds or so. “... Listen, you -- the customer is always right! Always! Especially when the employee is some stupid high school dropout who can’t even make a cup of coffee right! Now make me my drink properly or I’ll have this place shut down! I’ll have your jobs!”

“Ooooh,” the guy sarcastically said, just loud enough to possibly be overheard at the counter. “So brave to be threatening underpaid baristas.”

“Especially since he probably doesn’t have enough brain cells to work a Keurig,” Xaja agreed, and snickered when the asshole turned to grace them both with a murderous glare. She could just hear a few muffled snorts of laughter and see a few agreeing smirks from other customers.

“You, you’re not a part of this,” Lorman snarled at Xaja and her new friend. “Shut up.”

“Or what?” the guy challenged. “Those baristas are being paid -- not nearly enough, by the way -- to be polite to you. Neither of us,” he gestured to himself and Xaja, “are.”

“Shut up!” Lorman repeated, taking a furious step toward the pair and leaving the poor barista alone for the moment. “I’ll-- I’ll have both of your jobs!”

“You make that threat with everyone who pisses you off?” Xaja dryly asked. “I’ve been hearing better threats since junior high. At least try to be a little bit creative, willya?”

“Also,” added the guy, “that’s really cute, considering you clearly have no idea who either of us is.”

“Careful,” Xaja teasingly cautioned her new friend as Lorman sputtered. “I don’t think those two brain cells of his can handle logic at all.”

“Meh.” The guy shrugged and grinned. “Those brain cells clearly don’t get enough use on the best of days. I’m just being helpful in making him use his mind a little bit.”

“Think you might’ve over done it a bit. Look.” Xaja gestured in Lorman’s direction as his face quite literally turned an interesting shade of red. “There’s steam coming out of his ears.”

“So there is,” agreed the guy, his smirk broadening. “What were you saying earlier about him having shares in Viagra to make up for those personal shortcomings? Pretty sure we’re seeing one of the side effects of taking it too often.”

“Can you blame the guy, though? That has to be the only way he gets any sort of attention.” Xaja grinned. “I mean, besides throwing tantrums that would make my two-year-old nephew embarrassed to witness.”

“Just… you two… shut up!” Lorman seemed at a complete loss for words. “This isn’t-- you--!”

“Uh-oh,” the guy commented. “I think he ran out of words. Your two-year-old nephew probably has a broader vocabulary.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised that tiny little brain of his could learn human speech at all.” Xaja contemplatively tilted her head. “I’m just so curious as to the how.”

“Just… you…” Lorman finally snarled something unintelligible, shot both Xaja and her friend a murderous glare, and stormed out of the coffee shop to applause from the other patrons. Applause turned into gales of laughter a minute later when he skulked back in, snatched his forgotten wallet from the counter, and slunk back out with his metaphorical tail between his legs. With him finally gone, the tension in the shop eased, and normal chatter picked back up throughout the rest of the building.

“Well, that was therapeutic,” the guy brightly commented as he settled back into his chair and gave Xaja a grin. “Pleasure working with you.”

“The pleasure was mine,” Xaja laughed as she relaxed into her seat and picked up her now-lukewarm mocha. She glanced at the counter and mouthed “Okay?” at the barista, and got a relieved smile and a nod in response before she looked back to the guy. “Good to meet a kindred spirit with the same enjoyment in taking assholes down a few pegs.”

The guy grinned and offered his hand across the side table to shake. “I’m Theron, by the way.”

“I’m Xaja.” And I really hope you’re single, she silently added as she shook his hand, trying to not get pulled in by his warm amber eyes and the smile he gave her, and failing miserably at that.

[awkwardtimezone]

That moment when you finish a picture but something looks off

... Only to realize the character should be bloated with bruises, scabs, and pieced together with stitches and bandaids but you drew him all nice and clean.

Frak it all.

[little-sith]

I have this image in my head of all the random characters that use the /rp channel on Ebon hawk, sitting in pajamas and watching a holofilm while chatting.

And while I know that's usually not the case, the image will not leave my head.

[little-sith]

Ahaha. First Hammer Station run, the merc healer has strength gear.

Second Hammer Station run, the assassin insists upon using his 8 second whirlwind, rather than my minute whirlwind or the mercs CC.

I somehow managed to survive both of these, but there was some colorful language and giggles happening.

[little-sith]

Thoughts on <Interlude> if it's not taken already?

[little-sith]

THE EMPEROR'S HOME FOR HOMELESS SITH (and other Imperials)

Once I decide on a cool name, because that's the most important thing ever, I am going to make that vanity/rp guild for Sith. And, well, any other Imperial character that needs a home.

No main plot, the characters in the guild might not even know each other, and there won't be any IC power struggles or stuff like that between members that deals with the guild as a whole.  It's not going to be all "zomg super serious", it'll more or less be a guild home for those who just need one at the moment.

No application or anything. People will simply be required to not erp in public, to respect roleplay, and to not troll roleplayers. And have a decent grasp of the English language. 

There won't be any guilting for leaving it, and it'll really more or less be low key and useful for some socializing and exp boosts while leveling. Alts and mains and bank alts and anything people want, just to have something.

Yes, this is somewhat selfish of me wanting this, as I have several Sith characters I want to RP, but I can't put in DR, and I really don't want to go through the hassle of applying to another guild, and I figure there are probably more people that have this desire.

I know of four definite folks already, and several who have expressed interest, so once a name is picked, and people are online, it shall be done.

..Naming it is the hard thing. I want something pretty and poetic but not too purple. Taking suggestions.

[little-sith]

I really need a Sithy guild for ...well, most of my Sith, save Damry.  I don't want a hardcore RP guild with a huge application and stuff, but I want a guild where RP is cool, but there isn't an overarching plot.

I really should just do it myself.