#xavis ryom.

[knighthimself]

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XAVIS RYOM + MATHIAS ILESAR @ecroixx

[ilesar]

DATE & TIME: 1/17, 1500H   LOCATION: The Temple TAG: @ecroixx 

The Temple—a Sith monument created thousands of years before her—is peaceful compared to what she saw on Coruscant. (To think she knew that place as well as her own bones, as well as the veins that carry through to her stubborn heart. It’s polluted now. Something else is weathered away; you’ve stayed like a stone for so long, General, you know there is a price to pay for it.) 

The sounds of birds and various animals guides her through the Temple until she reaches one of the outlying courtyards, the stones cracked by thick vines, slowly being reclaimed by Yavin IV’s jungles. 

She stands at one of the entryways, hands folded behind her, eyebrow quirking as she surveys the mass collections of fauna. A nearby Woolamander parts from the others and slowly makes its way to her leg. Rishla looks down at it; it looks up at her. She tilts her head; it tilts back. Eventually, it wraps its arms around her leg and clambers up her side until she reaches around it with her arm, keeping it propped on her hip.

There’s no surprise at who she finds at the center of the menagerie. “Master Niedra told me you attended the mission to Eadu,” It’s obvious information. Rishla says it more as a way to alert Xavis that she’s here. 

What she reads from him: anxiety, indecisiveness. More—frenzy. She takes a few steps forward (the Woolamander places both hands on her scalp and begins to closely inspect her tattoos.) “Xavis, why haven’t you joined the others?”  

[nniedra]

DATE & TIME: 1/15, 7PM   LOCATION: Training Rooms, the Temple TAG: @ecroixx & @feinkomo

"We'll do that again—Fein, switch arms, and this is practice for you as well, remember your back. We'll speak more on it during break," Noa instructs, circling the pair as she observes them, voice clear, nothing she says is a suggestion. And she is Fein's Master, but for now, the focus is on the friend he brought into their training. She welcomed Xavis too. Her leading the mission to Eadu, it goes unspoken that those behind her would not go unprepared. Afraid, perhaps, but if we wait until we are unafraid, then we will wait forever. But they can be ready, she can make sure they're ready. 

The eye she watches him with is scrutinizing, but not judgmental. If another time, if a mission wasn't tomorrow, there would be more patience. And after it is over, he can know again that she has all the time in the world to help them, to be ready. For now, the luxury is lost. "Xavis, I will ask you to fight as if you will not get to have Fein beside you tomorrow." She’s telling him to give them more of a fight. They all know that's possibly impossible. Take an army to get her away from their backs, their sides. But we train for the worst, it makes everything else seem easier when it happens. 

[socthsayers]

DATE & TIME: 1/19, 0700H   LOCATION: Dorian’s Hut TAG: @ecroixx

He waits, unaware that he is waiting, seated on the smooth stone ground in front of his hut, legs folded underneath him, hands resting palm-down over his knees. Birds chirping hail the beginning of the day; warmth spreading across his face; the steady babbling of a nearby creek. 

The image of him seated there while dawn breaks over Yavin IV’s horizon is a peaceful one.

You must know better than to believe that.

It’s been days since his last visit to the Rebel base. (He can still hear them calling for him—he can still feel the cold, he can still feel their little hands pulling on his robes, guiding him to a place where he might not return.)

Something soft presses against his arm, and he opens his eyes, vision slowly collecting into a familiar silhouette, tall and lanky and apologetic.

“Hello, Xavis.” Dorian smiles, but it’s far away. “I didn’t know you would be visiting today.” He did. It’s why he’s been waiting here, though he doesn’t know it. 

[khadisshrike-blog]

DATE & TIME: 01/19, 1100H LOCATION: Yavin IV, rebel base, laboratory FOR: @ecroixx

It surprises her, how alive they all are. (She is not a part of that all, and she’s intent to keep it that way – but sometimes, those lines fade a little, and there is no one there to police her, except she herself.) To survive her higher Siblings and whatever Acolytes they took along is no small thing, and she’s felt unpredictable hints of simultaneous disbelief and euphoria at that amongst the Jedi.

So when she watches Xavis watch a few pieces of a lightsaber’s hilt, something about it is puzzling. For someone so comfortable with nature, she thinks he looks at the metal like it’s a rabid animal, liable to take his fingers or his hand, and even if she doesn’t know him to be consciously brave (yet), he made an impression of unflappability on her.

“What’s wrong? You get stuck?”

[aldanars]

DATE & TIME: 1/04, 12:35PM   LOCATION: The Riot, Jedha TAG: @ecroixx

(How can she explain, when for so many years, the most she ever heard was the sound of wind howling from outside of her shed? The thrumming of her own heart in her ears? So quiet on some nights that Tatooine’s shifting sand dunes seemed to make their own sound?) 

She’s pushed along with the bodies, thrown roughly between the tide as she tries to call out for Mathias—for anyone. But they’re all gone. She can’t make out a single face among the flurry of colors and noise.  

Mathias is—busy. And the only weapon she has is the vibroblade he had given her that same morning. She yanks it immediately out of its sheath, the steady hum in her palm something reassuring. 

Nimm ducks quickly under a misplaced punch, and weaves in between writhing bodies, pulled forward by an unknown feeling until she catches the edge of someone familiar—

“Xavis!” And in an instant, she is reaching for his arm, her fingers sure enough to leave bruises on him. But she can’t risk letting him get swept away. (There’s shouting, then screaming. People getting trampled underfoot. Her awareness narrows in on a shrill, child’s cry mixed somewhere in the din. It sends her on edge.) She pulls him close, eyes wide, searching his face. What do they do? What do they do?

“You’re—you’re alright? You’re okay? We have to—we—” Nimm doesn’t know. She tears her gaze away, eyes frantically searching the crowd for some sort of sign. “I don’t—I don’t know—” (They sat next to each other on the ship. Xavis—still a boy, still unsteady. Nimm—half feral, her only instinct telling her to hide.) “This place is a death trap. We—we—” Her breath catches. She can scarcely believe her own words when she says, “We need to get some of these people out of here. Not everyone is here to fight.”

[knighthimself]

Ø

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“He’s kinda wimpy, right? It’s alright to call him wimpy, right? Did I imagine it—did I imagine him just like holding a quarterstaff and dropping it a second later? It’s a quarterstaff, they’re like pencils, long ones. His finger guns are funny though, who taught him to do that?

“He looks at me like he wants to runaway—not much I can say about that either, is there?”  

[aldanars]

Ø

“Everyone here—everyone, they seem like they have a purpose. Not even that. It’s like they know what they’re meant to do. I don’t—I don’t know if I will, yet, but I want to. Xavis, he, he acts sort of the same. It’s funny, sometimes when I see him all I think of are newly born calfs taking their first steps. I heard about what happened to him before he came here. To his parents, I mean. I wonder how much he thinks about them.

“The herding fields are good for practicing flying, as long as you don’t mind trying to avoid bumping into some of the banthas. I’ve taken him there—it gets so loud on the base. He looks so wobbly when he flies. He’ll be okay, though. We all have to be.”

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