#mathafew

"Mathafew, I know you can scramble them like an egg, but by the Force you will not or so help me--"

For a Dream & Nightmare with Mathafew!

The night was filled with a mist of glittering stars, the color of them shifting in the atmosphere of Esverr. Darius grinned broadly up at them as if experiencing them for the first time. "Can you see it, Mathafew?" He asked squeezing his son close as he pointed up at the sky. "Can you feel the flow of Clarr'Proviiden?" They were so beautiful, and he felt so wonderful he thought his chest would burst! He glanced down at Mathafew whose pupils were wide and round with wonder. Starlight danced on his scarlet irises and his face looked like the child he should have been this entire time. A Scourman could only see a bit less than Truemen, but he knew it was a sight. But what made this all worth it was seeing Mathafew's face... A 10-year-old boy seeing the world, the Force, for the first time with his new sight. Darius beamed at his ad'ika and gazed back up at the rainbow-studded sky... When the atmosphere shifted and pain sizzled through his chest... something... red... entered his view as brilliant light hummed from his chest and withdrew. Everything was muted. Darius fell back, stunned, Mathafew grabbing for him as black-gloved arms pulled him back. The Mando tried to grab him, to hold him, to stop the Dar'jetti from taking him! The boy slipped from his fingers, but he could still hear his son screaming for him. "Mathafew!" he rasped, trying to breathe with the hole in his chest. "Mathafew!!" Darkness surrounded him, the very darr'thumbra of their souls were blocking out the sky "He wasn't yours to begin with, Mando," came a smooth, silky, oily voice. "You should have given him to us when you had the chance..." He knew that voice... it was the one that belonged to the first Darr'thumbrian he'd ever met... the boy's handler... a dark trueman... "Now you're going to die, and he's going to return to the thumbra where he belongs..." "No!" Darius choked out, feeling his vision fading and fearing the loss of his son to the Dar'Jetti. "NOOO!"

//Ok but also thinking about Darius and how his eyes/connection with the force would be healed

//how when he was first a Videre on Esverr, he would've been an enthusiastic young man, his gold and green eyes shining with his young eagerness and oh, how they would've dimmed and the green darkened when he lost his connection to the force.

//how then his eyes would've been changed and his connection with the force partly re-established during his time on Lusankya, but warped and dark thanks to Hebers trying to turn him into an Imperial Videre. His initial gold and green eyes would've been turned black with silver irises, a sign of his Imperial Scourging. This would also be seen as a "blackening" of his soul, as Esverrans believe that the color of a Videre's eyes displays the color(s) of their soul.

//This would've been traumatizing at minimum for Darius: the losing of his armor to his enemies (breaking the Death Watch's code) and then their blackened mark on his Esverran soul? It would be devastating. But it'd also be a huge time for learning the true meaning of being a Mandalorian as he goes to Mandalor with his son, Mathafew (@sundanceofapache) to "reclaim his mandalorian soul", but also making the journey to Esverr with the rest of his found family, this being the first time since the fall of the Noble Houses.

//The thought of him healing as he explores the ancestral homeland of his people as a Mandalorian and feeling a connection with them and the Manda. And then healing with his trip to Esverr, being led by one of the few remaining Veilmen/Videre Elders to their own sacred place and getting his eyes "cleansed" in the cold, crystal cave waterfalls of Esverr, and the black of the Imperial Videre being washed away into a lively, deep blue.

Tajur Jaing || Mentor || Buir

When the Heraldies and I were shot down, I lost everything: my life, my family, my people, the Videre, I was left... empty. Adrift. Spiraling in a typhoon without anchor or safe harbor. I was... dead, I think. Or as dead as I could be to what I knew. I tried to find my way, the way Clar'Proviidor would have me walk... and I found the Watch. Through them, I found the Way and the one to teach it to me. I thank the universe every day for it. — Tajur Jaing, a Mandalorian of the Old World as I would call it. I learned what it meant to be a Mandalorian, to be born with a new soul. I became a Mandalorian under his care, his son. I had a family now, a clan, a tribe. I wasn't alone, but more than that, even if I was ever alone, so long as there is one Mandalorian who knows and follows the Resol'nare, there will always be more of us. Tajur's from the old Republic too. His father was one of those who helped train the Clone Troopers, now he trains me in those ways too. It's hard - Esverrans like me aren't adept in warfare like this, but I'll make my way through it. I'll do him proud. — I'm still learning, but from hearing and reading about the old stories, the wars, alliances, and sheer repute of what my new people once were, I'm almost angry when I see pretenders disgracing the proud name of our people. Vizla has some things to say on that, though if Tajur can stand me and my blunders, I should probably allow the pretenders theirs. And I dare anyone to tell Tajur' he's not Mandalorian. I'll even cash in on those bets with their armor.

Mathafew Farthen Jaing || Adopted Son || menace

— This child is a menace. But he's my menace. The only other Esverran I've seen since Esverr's fall, and he's a feral wild child believing everything is out to get him and adamant about striking first. I don't know where he came from, only that he had purge troopers for handlers. Probably Inquisitor bait - just like imps to kill and torture kids... He's got eyes of a Truman but... He's just a kid... He should be with his parents or home on Esverr... and his eyes... he's only apprentice age, not nearly old enough for his final scourging before becoming a Trueman. But here he is, trapped with abilities he doesn't know how to control and force powers I can't even comprehend! But I have to try—I have to help him. As the only Videre around, I have to train him to take hold of his abilities and use them for good and not against other people. Truemen are powerful. I remember my foster uncle Sebastipol, his cool level gaze, and how he was able to press his calm on me when I would lose my temper to hurt or anger. He was good at that. Maybe... Maybe I can help Mathafew the way Uncle Seb helped me? I can only hope. Besides, a kid needs a dad, right? And I don't see anyone else stepping up to the plate.

Markathew Farthen || Mentor || Adopted Grandfather

— Coming Soon —

Baribus Thatch || Father || Scourman Videre

— Coming Soon —

Sebastipol || adopted uncle || Trueman Videre

— Coming Soon —

Viscountess Lavinia Heraldy || Former employer

— Coming Soon —

Ziv || Good Friend || Traveling Medic

— Coming Soon —

Soren/Theo || Good Friend || Pilot

And for the most part, he was alone in there.

Some whispers from the hundreds of minds around the tower were beginning to creep in, but they were so soft he hardly noticed them. What couldn't be ignored though was the soupy thick tension between Darius and their father. While Stoat hovered protectively by his head the young man was curled up on the sofa huddled in Darius' beat up coat and a blanket wrapped around himself. He peered at the other two with his glassed-over scarlet eyes.

It had been like this for a few days now from what Stoat had said. The two of them avoiding talking about anything more touchy than whether it should be eggs or oatmeal for breakfast. Since waking up, Mathafew had noticed the same. They talked to him, but they barely talked to each other. He sighed and flopped over to stare at the ceiling.

He wondered, if he froze them both in place, would that make a difference?

@sundanceofapache

'I don't think that would work very well,' Stoat thought back, eyeing the two suspiciously. 'Bari's doing good at trying to communicate, but Darius just seems... locked up for some reason. Like some muscle that won't unclench or landing gear that won't unjam. Something like that.'

The ghost huffed and nestled down beside Mathafew. 'I'll see what I can do with Baribus but Darius seems like he's trying to protect himself from.. us? Or maybe from Baribus. He's scared of... something. I dunno.'

Echo chuckled and looked back over at Mathafew.

"If we want this to work and kick Xivu Arath's butt for what she did to you and Darius? Yeah, we need Immaru alive. Besides, he's not so bad. Annoying sometimes, rough at other times, but not nearly as bad as some people we've encountered."

A few god complexes and bad ends come to mind as the exo pat the young man on the shoulder.

In truth, it's the Egregore coral amplifying Mathafew's thoughts and meltdown that jars him from the grip of Xivu Arath, the flame of their familiarity doused by the flood of Darius's big brother instinct. The moment he senses Mathafew's distress, everything is thrown into the background as he seeks his little brother, knowing he's needed. He works as his brother's anchor, holding Mathafew's helmed face as Fastion helped him drag Mathafew topside while Echo and Salem217 covered their retreat.

Things are quiet now as the warlock, Salem217, flies them home and Fastion watches over them. Quiet enough for Darius's thoughts to surface again as he holds his little brother.

It was horrible. The panic Mathafew endured, the screaming hive, the mixed memories tainted by his own... How much damage had he done to Mathafew just by existing? just by being near?

It struck him then, as Mathafew balled his fists into his jacket, refusing to let him go, that each new thought of him didn't view him as the stranger he knew he was... but as the brother he used to be...

Tears leaked down Darius's cheeks as he wrapped another arm around Mathafew, two words ringing in his mind...

Echo looked up at Mathafew from her shaded seat tucked away in the docking bay. She’d been dealing with a bout of melancholia and was trying to keep out of everyone’s way when the young man found her. For a moment, she thought about it and and lifted her arm.