#{forcenexus}

@forcenexus said: i don’t want to fight with you.

@forcenexus liked for a starter.

Cal had spent years in hiding. He had kept his head down, refusing to do anything that might draw attention to himself. What else could he do? He'd been a kid when the Jedi Order had fallen. A padawan learner still several years away from undertaking the trials. He had only survived because his Master had protected him – had sacrificed his own life so Cal might live.

Bracca had been as good a place as any to hide. Nobody expected to find a Jedi on a scrapyard planet. The skills he had learned at the Jedi Temple had actually put him in pretty good stead for a career as a scrapper. Prauf had helped, taken him under his wing back when he was a kid. Prauf had been important to him. That was why Cal had slipped up. He'd used the Force to save him and...

Well, it had been pointless in the end, hadn't it? Prauf had been killed in the end because he'd tried to protect him from the Inquisitors.

Running had been the only option and it he was being honest, he had barely made his way out of there with his life. Cal hadn't picked up his lightsaber in years, and his connection to the Force was damaged. He was no match for an Inquisitor.

After managing to steal a ship, the coordinates he'd input had been random. He hadn't had time to think. He just knew that anywhere would be better than Bracca.

The desert planet he had landed on was not one he was familiar with but he had lost his pursuers. He had wandered for a while before he came across the man.

𓏲ּ𝄢 ─── the sand was pale as bone char, fine enough to hang suspended in the air between breaths, coating her tongue with the taste of old fires and older silence. it gave beneath her boots with each step, swallowing her footprints before she’d finished making them. sriluur was a world the hutts had claimed and then forgotten, left to bake under twin suns while they moved on to richer spoils, leaving behind only their crumbling palace complexes and the weequay who still served them. they were a quiet people though. there were no greetings called across dusty streets, no laughter from the cantina doorways, just the soft scuff of bare feet on sand and the occasional murmur of their own clicking language, spoken low as they tucked a word of caution between greetings. not that she heeded them.

the air carried the metallic bite of overheated engines and old fuel, layered with dust that never quite settled. padmé walked over to one side of the bay, watching a grizzled mechanic in oil-streaked overalls crouch over the exposed hull of a battered starfighter. the acrid tang of ozone stung her eyes teary, but she could still make out the faint gleam of gold. it clung to its seams, its curves, thinned to a tired warmth that spoke not of years, but of decades. the kind she’d seen in the hangar bays of theed.

“excuse—” the mechanic twisted around too fast, one hand slipping on the hull plating, and had to catch himself with another arm before he toppled sideways off his work stool. “oh dear! are you alright?” she reached out, hand extended as though she might steady him from where she stood.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ he squinted up at her though, all four hands still braced for balance, eyes tracking from her boots to the shadow of her hood. she lowered the cowl of her cloak then, continuing, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to frighten you.”

he pushed himself upright, hopping down from the stool with a grunt. “‘s fine—just… you’re not from around here, are you?” the question hung in the air between them, neither accusation nor invitation, just observation worn smooth by years of reading strangers in transit—a trait most of the townspeople seemed to share. “no,” she said then. “no, i’m from ryloth.” the words came easier than she’d expected, though she supposed it wasn’t really a lie anymore. “i came here to see jaxxson.”

he let out a low whistle. “by the spires of dathomir—yeah, that’s one wild ride. hold on.” he unclipped a comlink from his belt, turning it over in one hand while another thumbed the activation switch. “hey, jaxx—got a pretty young thing down at the bay looking for you.”

❛  i knew this day would come, but i hoped it wouldn't be today.  ❜ (from @forcenexus. anakin sitting obi wan to tell him what he knows about palpatine)

Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed as he allowed Anakin to guide him to sit. He was used to Anakin's elaborate conspiracy theories, which he would think of as a young padawan, but this seemed extremely far-fetched. What was more concerning was that Anakin seemed entirely too serious this time.

Lips pressed in a firm line, he thought better of it and stood. "Allow me to just put on a cup of tea, I feel I might need the caffeine for this conversation." Thankfully, his rooms were small, and the teapot was less than 5 feet from the table where he had previously sat.

"So...what would you think if I dressed as Barbie for Halloween?"

her snout presses against the palm of his hand, her scales warm against his skin. she is young still, barely older than a hatchling, but she seems taken with him. her golden eyes flicker and flare with the rare affection only a dragon can imprint with a bonded.

her scales, black and deep midnight purples, flicker with the occasional flash of silver.

a beacon in the dark.

then she scuttles back, her tail swishing behind her to perch upon the windowsill. she peers out into the world she has yet to properly discover. to feel the air beneath her wings and the tang of the atmosphere on her tongue.