#highgrcund

Poe merely whimpered when Obi-Wan told him he’d be right back, nodding a little then curling more under his blankets, trying to somehow make himself feel more comfortable. But he felt horrible. Too hot, his eyes, face, legs even, burning, but at the same time there was this cold in his chest that made him shiver and hold the blankets tightly around himself.

When Obi-Wan was back, Poe made a grunt of protest at being made to sit up but still moved, helping his master prop him against the pillows. He looked at him miserably, then to the thermos, wrapping his hands around him to hold it himself. He sniffed at the mixture but the lemon and honey smell was pleasant, certainly nicer than he expected of medicine. He took a sip and it wasn’t bad but somehow, it didn’t taste right either.

Mace: I love my daughter Depa Bilaba

Plo: I have a daughter and a few thousand sons and they're all perfect

He pulls a face at the obstinate comment, fully opening an eye to give him a Look.

"You've got to make a statement. You've got to look inside yourself and say: What am I willing to put up with today?" @highgrcund , for anakin !

There's a heavy sigh at that, running a hand down his face before chuckling. Having the ghost of Obi-wan around certainly wasn't expected, but he can't deny the company, even if it does leave the room with a certain... air about it.

TOUCH STARVED BOY

@ectochoir​ asked:​

❥ - Rough, but protective. Obi-Dad throwing Braig to the floor or against a wall to shield him with his body, perhaps. 👀

This place is as fascinating as it is ancient. Beautiful, even in its decay. His footsteps echo off of the abandoned temple’s high ceilings and once-vibrant walls. The remains of tapestries still hang, faded and tattered, but if he squints he can almost make out the images on them. Some of them look almost familiar. 

“Is that…” He leans closer and squints. “Is that Master Yoda?” He looks over his shoulder with a grin. 

“It may very well be.” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard. “This temple was in operation when he was young.”

“That long ago, huh?” Braig stands up and dusts himself off. He’s answered with a chuckle as his master continues down the hall. As always, Braig follows. He can’t help but look around as they go. It’s at once familiar and alien. He wonders if padawans like him had walked through here before. Not on missions, like he and Obi-Wan were, but just living in their home. What they had studied, what forms were like in their time… If that was Master Yoda in the tapestry, he’d have to ask. There must be millions of stories in this room alone. 

Not right now, though. 

Right now they were on a mission. A stealth mission, too, which unfortunately meant they’d had to leave the men behind. Braig was confident in his abilities, and his master’s, of course, but having an army at his back had been an incredible security blanket. 

“It should be just ahead.” Obi-Wan’s voice snapped him back to attention.

“Right.” Braig nodded. He rested his hands on the hilts of his sabers. It was a casual gesture, practiced and habitual. Always best to be prepared. It was hard to sense danger here. It was hard to sense anything, actually. The Force was so strong, so… Present. Just like back on Coruscant, this Temple had been built over a Nexus. A natural Force wellspring. Like most things involving the Force, it was as beneficial as it was dangerous. It took a decent amount of focus to quiet it, shields raised to keep from being overwhelmed. 

Not for the first time, he had to wonder why the terminal here was still in operation if the Temple had been abandoned. Oh well. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they got the information it held. Resource deposits, hidden strongholds, and who knows what else? All of it could prove invaluable to the Republic. 

All of it could be dangerous in Separatist hands. That’s why he couldn’t be all that surprised when the Force SHRIEKED at him. It was matched by his master’s voice, only a touch more controlled. 

“Braig, get down!” He would have listened if he had the chance. But Obi-Wan had said those words even as he leaped to tackle Braig to the floor. Braig hit the ground hard, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. 

No, he was more focused on the red lightsaber that had embedded itself in the wall, and the familiar cackle from the balcony overhead. 

“Well done, Obi-Wan.”

Even as he steeled himself for a fight, Braig groaned inwardly.

Send “Loot Box Opened, You obtained: ______” And add any item you want. My muse will give their reaction to finding said Item. || Accepting

… What. 

In the stars. 

Is this?

Braig is fairly certain it’s not the datapad Obi-Wan asked for. Firstly, it’s flimsi. Not a ‘pad. Secondly, it’s got some elaborately done art on the cover, of a man and a woman in fancy dress, embracing in front of a setting sun. And… It appears there’s a bookmark within it. 

He knew he probably shouldn’t look, but curiosity was his mortal sin… He picked the book up and cracked it open to where it had been left. Scanned his eyes over the first paragraph.

She gasped wetly, clawing at Dramiik’s back. He let out an animalistic grunt as–

NOPE.

Braig slammed the book down with both hands, trying to scrub the image from his mind. This left more questions than answers, but for once, he was in no hurry to ask them.