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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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Oh, my goodness, this is wonderful. The above image had me in stitches. And your note at the end...XD
There have to be sane men out there, right....right??? Hmm...I may have to rethink this plan.

But you know, if she wanted flowers and chocolates, she should have found a way to woo Corso. Fish will fill your belly woman. *grunts* A real man's love.

Skari is typically very practical, but the girl occasionally wishes her life were more normal. You know, sans fish presents. Corso though...she'd probably end up killing him. He'd be sweet and adorable for about an hour and then she'd just want to smack him all the time. Course she often wants to smack Crae too...this may be a pattern... :D

You had me giggling with the ad. "Does not give gifts that used to be alive. Lack of homicidal tendencies would be nice too." Oh yeah, that's so going to attract the right crowd *snerk*

Lack of homicidal tenencies leaves out large swaths of the population (Sith, Bounty Hunters, Imperial Agents, DS Anybody, more Sith), have to narrow down the search focus, hehe.

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Lack of homicidal tenencies leaves out large swaths of the population (Sith, Bounty Hunters, Imperial Agents, DS Anybody, more Sith), have to narrow down the search focus, hehe.

 

I guess it depends on whether this is a "preference check box" on an electronic form, thus eliminating undesirables from the search, or an open ended, 'describe your ideal partner' question for interested parties to look at. Because I suspect the aforementioned people with homicidal tendencies would view the latter as a either a turn-on or a challenge :D.

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I guess it depends on whether this is a "preference check box" on an electronic form, thus eliminating undesirables from the search, or an open ended, 'describe your ideal partner' question for interested parties to look at. Because I suspect the aforementioned people with homicidal tendencies would view the latter as a either a turn-on or a challenge :D.

Now I have one image of a list that looks like:

 

Interests

- fine dining

- travel

- exercise

- murder

- book club

- fishing

Open-ended, yep, I'm sure that would bring out the wrong crowd.

 

Skari walks into the ship, throws a tattered purse across the space, her dress is smoke stained and burned away in a couple spots.

Mako: (leans down from the upper deck) "Did you have a good time?"

Skari: (growls as she pulls off her heels) "If you think a effing incendiary grenade is a good time."

Mako: "Again?"

Skari: (flings the shoes across the space to join the purse) "No, the incendiary is new, last one was a sticky."

Mako: (hopefully) "At least it was just coffee."

Skari: (stomps up the stairs in her bare feet) "I'm wearing my armor next time."

 

By the way, this is pretty much how almost all my stories look when I start them...too much conversation? Naaaahh!

:p

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Now I have one image of a list that looks like:

 

Interests

- fine dining

- travel

- exercise

- murder

- book club

- fishing

Open-ended, yep, I'm sure that would bring out the wrong crowd.

 

Skari walks into the ship, throws a tattered purse across the space, her dress is smoke stained and burned away in a couple spots.

Mako: (leans down from the upper deck) "Did you have a good time?"

Skari: (growls as she pulls off her heels) "If you think a effing incendiary grenade is a good time."

Mako: "Again?"

Skari: (flings the shoes across the space to join the purse) "No, the incendiary is new, last one was a sticky."

Mako: (hopefully) "At least it was just coffee."

Skari: (stomps up the stairs in her bare feet) "I'm wearing my armor next time."

 

By the way, this is pretty much how almost all my stories look when I start them...too much conversation? Naaaahh!

:p

 

OMG I am still giggling over the first box. With Sith, that might not be a joke. Now sending my husband to check it out because he was giving me weird looks for laughing at my computer.

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OMG I am still giggling over the first box. With Sith, that might not be a joke. Now sending my husband to check it out because he was giving me weird looks for laughing at my computer.

Hehe, there's nothing wrong with giggling at the computer, or crying at the computer, or swearing at the computer......what? you guys are good writers :p

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NotLP: The Story Thus Far

 

By popular demand:

Ian Kughel, Trooper (a trooper not the trooper, and that link goes to his portrait. No spoilers)

 

 

At 6’6 barefoot, Sergeant Ian Kughel is hard to miss in a crowd. If not for an extensive chemical burn and subsequent cybernetic replacements he could pose for a Republic Military recruitment board. He keeps his remaining brown hair, a few shades darker than his olive skin, in a short, shrubby military cut. His one surviving eye is the color of fine cognac. The other is a military-grade implant. He is 23 years old when he responds to Vashutarl’s contact.

 

A native of the agriworld Chandrila, Ian grew up in a small community typical for that idyllic planet. Landholders, for the most part, and usually related if only distantly. A favorite uncle enthralled him with war stories from the early years of the Great Galactic War. He remembers watching the newsfeeds as a child, even if the fighting was always far away. His eyes were on the stars, and the only real surprise was that he chose the Republic Military as his means to leave.

 

Kughel weathered the inevitable culture shock well and rose to the rank of sergeant within a typical timeframe. No mean feat in an officially peacetime military. The start of a promising career. Unfortunately, an accident during a training exercise left him severely burned. In addition to the obvious, his right arm, shoulder, upper back and spine are cybernetically enhanced. Primarily therapeutic, the implants increase nerve transmission and muscle effectiveness as well as replacing tissues too damaged to repair. His recovery and rehabilitation took the better part of a year.

 

Upon return to duty, Command assigned him to Rancor Squad, an armored infantry unit. For once, he doesn’t stand out. Much. Most of the squad is cybernetically enhanced if not to the same extent or for the same reason. He’s of average height, relatively speaking. One of the members might be just this side of a section eight (in the gung-ho sense, so not likely to draw much scrutiny) and he has some competition for the position of squad practical joker.

 

Recently his rival found Kughel’s inactive profile on a dating holosite and set up a date with a vapid blonde, the worst match he could find. The would-be prank backfired--the vapid blonde turned out to be a new Jedi knight, Vashutarl Umrahiel, and her profile itself was a prank. Despite the awkward beginning, they hit it off rather well. Enough that Kughel intends to keep in touch.

 

 

Notes: I’ve updated my original summary page to include Ian Kughel’s story, and I changed the portrait link in that post to one that includes him with all the other characters. Little of this will be new to anyone who read my LF1M entry.

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Ahaha, the image of Skari encountering a slightly different grenade approach...men, you know?

 

And yay, Kughel background!

 

Now, at 1000 words, game spoilers only so far as the existence of Tharan Cedrax's associate. I can't write about a character Tara Strong has voiced without making a My Little Pony reference, in the title if nowhere else; thus, a Ruth-Less very loose (read: almost unrelated) LF1M, My Little Operative: Friendship is Very Advanced Technology.

 

 

 

Wynston leaned forward in his chair. "Holiday, believe me when I say that in spite of this loss, you still have a tremendous amount to contribute to the galaxy's knowledge. And, I think, its wellbeing. Doctor Cedrax would have wanted you to continue advancing the cutting edge of science."

 

The hologram gestured hopelessly. "It's just not the same without him. He came up with so many brilliant ideas."

 

"My dear, have you ever considered that you have ideas of your own to explore? Not to mention the opportunity to work with the foremost experts in any field of your choice, I can't imagine there's a researcher out there who wouldn't be delighted to work with someone of your talents."

 

Wynston had been monitoring the AI for years. A patchwork of clever human programming, previously unknown algorithms, and a few things that bore the marks of not fully understood exotech, Holiday's queries had flitted here and there across galactic networks for decades, and the prospect of capturing her knowledge and giving his techs the chance to study her workings was too good to pass up. So when the scientist who kept her died in a freak trophy case accident, Wynston sprung. He had managed to snag Doctor Cedrax's personal ship during the estate sale, and its databanks were now safely on the Aegis, along with the pretty feminine holographic manifestation of Holiday.

 

Holiday hugged herself and sniffled. "I suppose you're a scientist."

 

"More management, I'm afraid. I own a research and development lab. We have great resources there, with some very talented minds working on problems. We can always use a little more inspiration."

 

Quinn strode right in, as he usually did when his mind was on how important his job was. "Agent, I have located–" He stopped short when he noticed Wynston's company. He looked at the holo image, the projector, then the image again, with a sharp combination of wariness and curiosity. Inadvertent smoldering occurred. "Holiday, I presume," he said, in the preoccupied voice that had the unfortunate property of being borderline silken.

 

Holiday stared back. "Yes, that's me," she practically sighed.

 

"Fascinating." Quinn turned his attention to Wynston. "I had no idea what to make of the reports about her, but if you've managed to locate her..." He took a few slow steps around the holo image and looked over the new databanks and projector. "You're wholly contained here?" he asked her, flicking only a brief glance at her image before going back to examining the hardware. "This is the complete unit?"

 

"I, um..." She sighed and slumped. "I guess it is now," she said shakily.

 

Quinn looked questioningly to Wynston. "Her previous associate, Tharan Cedrax, recently passed away," Wynston explained. "She's taking it hard."

 

"'Previous associate'?" squeaked Holiday. "That's the most inadequate phrase I ever...I was his assistant, and he found me, upgraded me, showed me things all over the galaxy. He told me I was the best of his life's work."

 

"Which is all the more reason why I'd like the chance to look into matters with you. I think he would have wanted his research to continue, don't you?"

 

Holiday sobbed. "I can't."

 

"You shouldn't let his genius go to waste," Wynston tried.

 

Quinn frowned. "Just how long did you work with this Cedrax, Holiday?"

 

She turned wide eyes to him. "Twenty-seven years, one month, two days, and nine–nineteen– hours." She covered her face and kept sobbing. Wynston half expected to see holographic tears start dripping.

 

"I see. And I imagine my associate approached you with a job offer immediately upon reactivating you?"

 

Holiday nodded, still breathing in miserable jagged gasps.

 

"Work helps," Wynston pointed out defensively.

 

"Agent, while I assume that, in spite of all recent evidence, some part of your brain still intends to recruit able and dedicated operatives, I am forced to wonder why you seem to have taken to actively hunting down bereaved persons of interest and attempting to browbeat them into submission. She may be in a better position to assist if you first just let her mourn."

 

"I could choose to be much worse than I am about this," Wynston said, glaring.

 

"I have every confidence in your resourcefulness in that regard, but the fact that you haven't finished plumbing those depths is not in itself cause for praise." He looked back to the hologram. "Holiday, while I am uncertain how this is going to play out in your programming I assure you that we are willing to accommodate your requirements until such time as you are ready to consider your next move."

 

Holiday, having been listening in rapt interest, finally wiped her insubstantial face and hiccuped. "That's– that's very kind of you. I don't want to be a burden."

 

"On the contrary. It is our honor to have an intelligence of such remarkable complexity in our ranks." He looked at the databanks again, clearly running some unspoken calculation on the value of the assets.

 

"Oh, you're too kind," gushed Holiday.

 

"I told her the same bloody thing," muttered Wynston.

 

Holiday looked at him. "Would I be working with him in your research center?" she breathed.

 

"No," Wynston said bluntly.

 

"It depends on what algorithms you have available for operational data analysis. I personally am not involved in fundamental research, but I do some hands-on work in our systems modeling and analysis departments." Quinn finally tore his eyes off the processor cores to look at Holiday's face. "I am eager to discover what subroutines you've developed over your own career."

 

"I don't know why I even bother," said Wynston. "Why don't you make arrangements here, Quinn, since you seem to have the necessary touch for it? For what it's worth, I'm very happy you've met someone you have something in common with, and I feel rather vindicated in discovering that that someone is a machine."

 

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Yes, if competence is a trait you feel unable to sympathize with, then by all means, consider yourself excused."

 

"Oh!" Holiday stifled a giggle. "Good one."

 

Wynston shook his head and walked out.

 

 

 

 

 

Ah, sharing the depth of human experience with…a hologram. Quinn's total failure to connect "offer some shred of delicacy around shattering experiences" with "the AI may form attachments" is just…Quinn. The second she stops sobbing, well, time to get to professional work!

 

Also I think I'm going to keep running with the idea that Wynston's social aptitude plummeted when Quinn started messing with his life. Because rule of funny, that's why.

 

I'm having fun ping-ponging between Lodestone and Ruth-less, because in one Wynston developed into a person capable of loving long-term attachments, and in the other he's a crackish guy who wouldn't know a sincere emotion if it ripped his heart out.

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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@irishfino Haha, Ald's reactions are much funnier than the ones my brain comes up with when Quinn repeats the obvious.

I blame Ald's inherent silliness on his responses. Also, Ald is slightly insanely crushing on Quinn.

That was hilarious Irishfino. I tend to be very introspective so it takes alot to get me to visibly laugh but that almost made me spit out my salad.:D

Now that's what I love to hear. I love it when people have visible reactions (even if I can't see them) to the things I write. MUAHAHHHAHAAH!!

Fino - Very funny. I may have to steal this idea cause I talk to my comps all the time.

 

Kira: "I'm about to break your record boss."

Esma: "That's really unlikely, Kira, you've been sitting on the ship."

 

Eeee, I'd love to see more of these written by other people. Reactions to companions varies so much, it's interesting to see/read. I love it!

 

I always want to scream at Kira "NO, YOU'RE NOT EVEN CLOSE. SHUT UP!" But I might dislike her a little bit... [shrugs] What can ya do?

 

Thanks for reading everyone!!!

 

 

And now...

NotLP: Companion Sayings

Uni: Ald the Silly Sith Warrior

Characters: Ald and Quinn

 

S**t My Companions Say, continued

 

 

***

 

“I’ll be in my quarters.”

 

“Want company?”

 

Quinn doesn’t respond, but does walk a little faster.

 

***

 

“There will be time to update you later, my Lord.”

 

“We’re not doing anything now.”

 

Quinn pauses. “I have nothing to say.”

 

***

 

“I’m going numb.”

 

“Are we still talking about things not to say in bed?”

 

“No… no my Lord, we are not.”

 

“Just checking.”

 

***

 

“It’s simple moments like this when I am sure the Empire will prevail.”

 

Ald sighs. “Just because you’re beating me at Space Risk doesn’t mean the Empire will win Space Risk against the Republic.”

 

Quinn blinks. “Move your pieces so I can claim my victory.”

 

“Dammit.”

 

***

 

“I will assist you any way possible in the battle to come.”

 

“Are you sure we’re still not talking about things that should be said in the bedroom?”

 

“I hate you, my Lord.”

 

 

Edited by irishfino
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Bright:

Quinn looks like he stepped out a romance novel and with his "air of noble suffering" he practically is one. Personality might need a little work.

 

And poor Holiday! Those two were sizing her up like a piece of meat. She needs some e-i-cream and a hug. Waking up like that *mumble grumble* and to Wynston! *mumble grumble* and then Quinn!

 

Irish:

Taken out of context, a lot of the companion lines could be ended "in bed", but with Quinn it just works.

Edited by Tatile
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Ok, first of all - Kughel has a background!! (Striges, you do realize he's loose now, writing more is inevitable ;))

 

Second - bright - Tharan's fate...yeah, cue maniacal laughter leading into full-scale giggles at 'inadvertent smoldering.'

"For what it's worth, I'm very happy you've met someone you have something in common with, and I feel rather vindicated in discovering that that someone is a machine."

bwahahahaha!

 

Fino, I don't want to take credit for that idea, cause it's an awesome one; what do you think of starting a Sh*t My Companions Say thread in Story and Lore or Fan Fic (since it would involve OCs)?

Edited by iamthehoyden
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Hi! I'm trying something new. I wrote this out half way then my mind said 'Ooh impulse time!' so i scrapped that and wrote in first person. More Ennaly, Woohoo! I think it reads like a diary entry but I really wouldn't know (never had a diary :rolleyes: ). Shorter than my usual stuff 424 words.

Prompt: Climate

Title: Hey! That's Cold!

 

 

I can’t believe I thought it would be ok to be on Hoth. I’m a desert girl, I know that, but Hoth doesn’t get much rain. The guys standing outside the shuttle said it would be cold. We even needed special gear. That should have been my first hint.

 

As Corso and I were sitting in the shuttle hurtling toward the planet, I was starting to get a little claustrophobic. Corso looked at me with his big, brown, soulful, perfect… I’m getting off topic. Corso looked at me worriedly.

 

“Captain?”

 

“Yes Corso you have my attention,” always, forever, and for eternity you have my undivided attention.

 

“Captain, you do know what the climate is like here, right?”

 

“Cold, dry, doesn’t sound too bad,” just keep on talking Corso I want to hear your voice.

 

“Captain, Hoth is supposedly-“

 

“Ooh! Look Corso! We’ve landed!”

 

I know it was rude to interrupt him, not to mention cutting off his beautiful voice, but the people on the shuttle were really starting to get to me. He looked at me again with his deep, clear, jewel like… note to self: tell Corso to stop looking at me.

 

We, fine, fine, I jumped out of the shuttle and ran for the door. I was still a little flushed from the ride so I didn’t notice the cold at first. I was stopped at the door when Corso caught up to me. I think the words that came out of my mouth were something like, “Hagh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh! Hagh! Hagh! Hagh!”

 

Corso answered with his typical care. He really does care about me. It’s so sweet. He’s so sweet. I need to get back to the subject. “Captain, I was trying to warn you.”

 

I think that was what he said; I was too busy staring at the blank whiteness that was spread out before me. I never knew it was possible to leave a dust cloud in snow but I might have succeeded. I sprinted for the shuttle.

 

“Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!” I was banging on the shuttle trying to get them to open the door.

 

“Captain, will you be alright?” Corso, so sweet, it really says something about how panicked I was that his voice didn’t register until later.

 

I couldn’t answer until we were back in that claustrophobic shuttle and headed back to my wonderful, perfect… another note to self: stop using so many adjectives. We went back to the ship so I could mentally prepare myself for the wasteland known as Hoth.

 

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freak trophy case accident

I lol'd. Then I thought: but Tharan likes luxuries, not trophies! :D

 

Everything about this little story is wonderful, by the way.

 

Taken out of context, a lot of the companion lines could be ended "in bed", but with Quinn it just works.

Every time I hear him say "I'll be finished shortly"... ;)Every. Time.

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Oh, Bright, I just got Tharan, and I loved this. "Freak trophy case accident" indeed. Please tell me Wynston will not introduce Holiday to SCORPIO, I think the world would end (or a new AU would be created).

 

@ Isoviel: Ah, shocking cold. Very cute.

Edited by Striges
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Here, a Chronicles-era Sith Warrior Nalenne for a holiday-themed Night of the Living Prompt: Food. No spoilers. 500 words.

 

 

 

Quinn found Nalenne curled up on the couch in the Method's lounge, as usual. "Good evening, my lord. Are you…"

 

He trailed off, looking at the table, which was stacked with boxes upon which were littered smaller boxes and bags and foil-wrapped objects in the shapes of miscellaneous adorable small animals.

 

"I got some chocolates," Nalenne explained, and popped another one from the open box in her lap into her mouth.

 

"I see that."

 

"Mrf fnuf hng–" she swallowed – "I don't know why you're looking surprised."

 

"I'm not surprised, my lord. It's just that traditionally, rather than acquiring some yourself, you demand that I buy you some at this time of year."

 

"Well, yes, but you never do. Because you hate happiness. Less than you did, but you do."

 

Quinn looked annoyed. "You know my feelings on Valentine's Day specifically, my lord."

 

"Yeah, you managed to make it something about ultranationalism."

 

"Valentine's Day is an elaborate ploy, the single greatest propaganda victory the Confectioners' Guild has ever implemented."

 

"Good for them. It gets me great food. There is no downside."

 

"The downside is that the heavily marketed products linked to this artificial holiday serve no purpose but to extract maximum profit from star systems of every type and affiliation to swell the Guild's coffers. It's built for maximum broad-base appeal linked directly to this uncontrolled political interest's economic benefit. Frankly, it's ingenious, but it's also a pernicious influence among the Empire's populace."

 

She plucked one of the chocolates out of the box and held it up. "This one's coconut," she said helpfully. "I think you said once you don't hate things with coconut in them, which is more praise than you give for most non-ration food." She waved it a little. "Interested?"

 

"It's un-Imperial."

 

"But delicious. Sure you don't want any?"

 

"Quite."

 

"I mean, they've already been bought. They're not going to subvert anything more than they already have."

 

Quinn clenched his jaw for a second, then rather obviously switched gears and started recalculating. "May I point out that every chocolate I eat, if I were to have any, would be one that you don't get?"

 

"I was going to be generous, you idiot."

 

"That really isn't necessary."

 

She glared at him.

 

A few long moments later he sighed. "Is this truly disappointing you, Nalenne?"

 

"Not really. I just wanted to spend a few minutes arguing to a standstill with you." She set aside the chocolates and, grinning, ran over to kiss him. "I know what you like."

 

"I see." He settled his arms around her. "Then would my giving in have ruined your enjoyment?"

 

"Oh, hell no," she said cheerfully, "that would also have meant I won."

 

He froze, looking thoughtful, for about half a second before hugging her even closer. "I do love seeing you stack the deck."

 

"Told you. I know what you like."

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Broan and Rochester

Best Day Ever (Because I didn't know what to shove this under and "sappy cuddle time" wasn't an option)

 

 

 

Broan smiled. He felt dizzy and giddy with happiness; his nervousness being held at bay, for now. Rochester had agreed to meet him again. They were engaged, somehow. He thought they were engaged, at least - he had offered, but Rochester had not said yes or no. Perhaps they could confirm today, but they would need to speak first.

 

Broan pressed the kohl to his chin and drew out the design again. It flowed naturally from him, guided by the Force, as easy as breathing. Since he had discovered the design, none but him had seen it. It was not that he was ashamed, but rather that he was scared. There was an unspoken cult of purity that thrummed even in Darth Yt'klor's halls and, until now, Broan had managed to avoid their notice. Not human, but also not entirely alien, he was accepted as Sith above all. By claiming himself as Mirialan he would risk that safety; more importantly, he would risk Rochester's. It was darkly funny how ever the freedom of the Sith was not without consequence. But even with that threat, he could not hide forever.

 

The diamonds finished, settled in around the 'v' that was so comforting; he waited.

 

"You called for me, my Lord?"

 

Broan stood. He had not rescinded Rochester's permissions to enter his apartments and, of course, the servant questioned nothing. He turned, not sure of what to expect in the other man's reactions. Rochester said nothing, but raised an eyebrow in slight curiosity. Broan held his head high - he would be defiant. He would be himself now or not at all.

 

"That looks nice," Rochester smiled. "Is it-"

 

"It's a real Mirialan design." Broan interjected. He was nervous, perhaps unreasonably, perhaps not.

 

"I was going to ask if it was make-up." Rochester stayed smiling, but his voice was softer. He stood with that familiar ease that had always served to calm Broan.

 

"Oh, yes, it is," Broan's shoulders slumped and he blushed. He felt rather stupid now. Rochester squeezed his shoulder. "Kohl, actually."

 

"And it's a Mirialan design?"

 

"Well, I don't know actually," Broan rubbed his arm, shuffling his feet. "It came to me when I was meditating. I don't know how it's supposed to happen, jut that mirialan have them..." He shrugged. He did not understand what he was trying to explain and everything was becoming muddled.

 

"If they came to you, and you're mirialan, then surely they are mirialan as well." Rochester crooked one finger under Broan's chin and lifted his head slightly. His thumb hovered just over the design, close enough to transfer warmth, but not enough to smudge.

 

"Thank you." It came out as a whisper and Broan could not help but smile.

 

They kissed soft at first, but quickly becoming needy. Broan's back hit the bed and Rochester was on top on him, tongue in his mouth. They woke a few hours later, satisfied and close. Kohl was smeared over the sheets in large, grey streaks. Rochester pulled Broan to him in an embrace.

 

"Love you."

 

"Love you too."

 

"That kohl... that may become a problem."

 

"What do you suggest?"

 

"Something more permanent."

 

Broan kissed him on the cheek and then the lips. It was good to be accepted.

 

 

 

Sappy. All the sap. It's syrup :x

 

Edit: Bright - Quinn does seem to have one singular approach to miscellaneous and non-specific happiness, doesn't he? I do not understand the purpose of this "fun". Could you imagine him and SCORPIO together?

Edited by Tatile
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Broan and Rochester

Best Day Ever (Because I didn't know what to shove this under and "sappy cuddle time" wasn't an option)

 

 

 

 

"If they came to you, and you're mirialan, then surely they are mirialan as well." Rochester crooked one finger under Broan's chin and lifted his head slightly. His thumb hovered just over the design, close enough to transfer warmth, but not enough to smudge.

 

 

 

a;fgqrehyja;orj*melt*

 

Love it, Tatile. Also, not to worry about sap; Affection is totally a valid previous prompt and should be used early and often. :D

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Happy Valentine's Day! This a piece inspired by the way I celebrate Valentine's. I don't have a boyfriend but my dad brought home some truffles for me (chocolates not the mushrooms, because mushrooms are gross :p ) so Valentine's for me is more just being around family and the people you love. 1000ish words.

 

Prompt: NotLP Family

Characters: Ennaly, Ensinlli, and Tameery, plus the smuggler companions

 

 

The crew arrived on Coruscant slightly confused and curious as to why they were there.

 

“Captain? Don’t we still have work on Belsavis?” Corso looked at Ennaly. He was getting used to her impulsive decisions but this was just odd.

 

“Do you see them yet? Can you see them?” Ennaly was not tall, in fact petit was the perfect way to describe her, and she was trying to see above the crowd of people gathering for the holiday.

 

“See who? What are we even doing here?” Risha asked with her usual petulance.

 

“I am here because it is Valentine’s Day. All of you are here because I consider you all family,” Ennaly smiled at her entire crew.

 

“Um… isn’t Valentine’s Day usually celebrated with loved ones?” Risha still wasn’t catching on.

 

“I love all of you.”

 

“One more than others,” Guss said with a snicker.

 

“And,” Ennaly continued with a glare at Guss. “The rest of my family will be meeting us for dinner.”

 

“Oh! So that’s why I’m carrying a cake,” there should have been a light bulb over Corso’s head.

 

“Yes. Bowdaar you’re the tallest can you see two mirialans, one who looks exactly like me?” Ennaly was still trying to do the imposible and grow six inches.

 

“I see them! I see them!”

 

“Thank you Corso. Where are they?”

 

“Right by the lift, there’s a jedi who could be your clone, but her tattoos are nowhere near as pretty as yours, and a trooper with an assault cannon that’s almost as big as she is.”

 

“Yep, that’s them. Follow me, we’ll go say hi,” Ennaly moved through the crowd with a speed that was impressive for the trouble she was having before.

 

“En! I see En!” The jedi was jumping with excitement.

 

“Calm down Ensinlli, knowing Ennaly a sudden outburst like that will keep her away,” the trooper said, but she smiled when she saw her sister with what had to be the most eclectic group of people she ever saw.

 

“Tameery, Ensinlli! I haven’t seen you guys in so long! There have to be introductions, and I made reservations and-“

 

“En calm down,”

 

“Captain breathe,” Tameery and Corso said at the same time.

 

“Okay,” Ennaly took a deep breath and looked at the assembled group. “Guys, this is my older sister Tameery,” she gestured at the trooper, Tameery smiled at them all warmly. “And this is my twin sister Ensinlli,” the jedi nodded her head sagely but winked at Corso.

 

“Tammy, Li, this is my crew Corso Riggs,” the tall human male smiled at Ennaly. She smiled back and didn’t turn back to her sisters until Tameery cleared her throat meaningfully. “And this is Bowdaar,” she gestured at the large wookie standing behind her. “And Risha,” Risha smiled cockily. “And Akaavi Spar,” Ennaly inclined her head to Akaavi. “And last but not least Languss Tuno,” the Mon Cal smiled nervously.

 

“Well if you’ve finished introducing us to the whole of this miserable planet, let’s go eat,” Ensinlli looked imploringly at Ennaly.

 

“Ok, the restaurant is in the market sector. It’s this great little place that I found,” the large group walked to the speeders. On the way, they were attacked by a group of thugs. Tameery set off a mortar volley that wiped them all out.

 

“Sorry guys, my time here didn’t earn me many friends,” Tameery said with a sheepish grin.

 

“Eh, it’s all right. It’s not a party until there’s a shootout in the streets, right Corso?”

 

“You got it Captain.”

 

They finally made it to the establishment with few other incidents. Once inside they were seated and conversation turned to Ensinlli. She deflected the queries with the grace you would typically expect of a jedi.

 

“So Ennaly, how’d you manage to get a boyfriend like Corso?”

 

“Um, I wished really, really hard, and he appeared on the bridge of my ship in a burst of light, with the accompaniment of a heavenly choir,” Ennaly said with her trademark smirk.

 

“Captain, we met on Ord Mantell. You were so pretty I gave you a blaster,” Corso looked at her, not wanting to let her slip into her smuggler mask with her family.

 

“No really, how did you two meet,” Ensinlli was utterly shocked that Ennaly could get a botfriend, much less one like Corso Riggs.

 

“Corso was right, although he never actually called me pretty at the time,” Ennaly smiled lovingly at Corso.

 

“Ugh, how did you manage to get in a serious relationship before us?” Tam was looking in the weirdest combination of disgust and jealousy.

 

“Maybe by not throwing myself at the nearest available male,” Ennaly loved her farm boy and if they wanted to tease her for it than she could throw it right back.

 

“That’s great,” Tam was not going to fight with her sister during the first time they’ve all been together in six years. “I hear you baked a cake.”

 

“Yeah, it’s three pounds of chocolate with chocolate icing on top. She won’t let any of us in the kitchen so I can tell you she’s the best cook I’ve ever known.”

 

“Well, yeah, but Corso, you’re her boyfriend you have to say that,” Ensinlli winked at Corso again.

 

“No, he doesn’t, and if you wink at my boyfriend again you will lose the eye,” Ennaly smiled at Li so sweetly that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was serious.

 

“Aw En, you’re so cute when you’re jealous,” Li wasn’t going to show that she was the slightest bit unnerved by her sister.

 

“How ‘bout we eat that cake,” Tam managed to get around the stares to stand right behind En.

 

“Cake sounds great!” Corso was grateful to Tam for ending the tension.

 

The cake was sliced and passed around the table. For a while, there were only the sounds of eating, and then Li got up.

 

“Well, this has been fun, and awkward, but I really must get back to my work,” Li disappeared from sight and left.

 

“I have to be going too, but don’t wait six years before you get in touch with me again,” Tam hugged her sister, and went to leave.

 

“Hey, wait up! You’re going to the spaceport aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, I’m off to Taris.”

 

“We’ll walk with you then.”

 

“Great idea I was just about to suggest it myself,” the large group was walking to the spaceport. Tam got into a conversation with Corso.

 

“Hey, Corso right?” Tam asked with concern. “Don’t worry about the girls, they’ve never been on easy terms, and any time they can irritate each other, they will.”

 

“Thanks, but how’d you know that was bothering me?”

 

“I may not be force sensitive, but I’m not blind. En has changed, a lot. You’re good for her, I’m glad she has you around,” Tam really did like him. He wasn’t what she expected her loner sister to find let alone keep.

 

“Thank you, I plan on staying with her…”

 

“Forever?” He was absolutely perfect for her.

 

“Yeah, forever. Listening to the captain talk, I thought you would be a blood thirsty psychopath,” Corso looked at the mirialan trooper.

 

“Oh, I am, but something about Republic basic training will beat a sense of sympathy into you. Oh, look there’s my hanger, gotta go see you En,” with one last hug for her sister Tam ran to her hanger.

 

“C’mon guys, let’s go. We have a lot of work to do,” Ennaly and the crew walked to their hanger at a sedate pace, but all of the crew could see that their captain looked like a great weight was lifted from her shoulders.

 

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In the spirit of the holiday, *snerk* I cooked up a batch of drabbles and...mini-drabbles? Fragments? Sentences? Um, drabbles and things for NotLP - Celebrations. Set between the second and third arcs of Afterimages, in the year 15 ATC.

 

Basically, the premise here is that Valentine's Day exists in Star Wars. This series of drabbles and drabblish things describes what the major characters, minor characters, and companions are doing on that day. No class story spoilers except for who the companions are for the SW, SI, and IA. Those companions who do not get fragments are deceased. :D

 

Major characters:

 

Malavai Quinn takes Darth A’tro to the Jedi Civil War Museum. She’s happy to cling to his arm as they wander from exhibit to exhibit, focusing more on the sound of his voice than on what he’s actually saying. She loves the way he becomes animated when he explains things, the way his eyes light up as he examines the nearest display, then turns his gaze to her. Back in her chambers—their chambers—they observe the occasion in more intimate ways. They lie in bed together, his arms around her protectively. She finds it sweet, and tells him so.

 

 

 

Darth Nox spends the evening at her favorite bar, casting a predatory gaze over the male clientele. She’s been feeling strangely wistful, haunted by dreams that she can barely remember. She spies a young man with pale blue eyes and bleached white hair, and even though she normally abhors that particular fashion trend she decides that she must have him, now. He eagerly succumbs to the power of her charms. The Citadel is much too far to wait; she has her way with him in a nearby alley, and feels distinctly unsatisfied after. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for.

 

 

 

Thaera paces through Operations all day in a bad temper. She returns to her apartment to find Vector waiting for her with flowers. He says he selected each individual blossom so that the scents and colors would coordinate with her aura. She spends the evening curled up in his arms, his subtle pheromones calming her frayed nerves. He is holding a damaged thing, a crystal chalice full of cracks, but he speaks beautiful words that make her feel whole again. When she touches him, she remembers that not everything in the universe is made of ice. She can still feel.

 

 

Minor characters:

 

Arden Zariel spends the day on duty. She is always on duty. She has never been a romantic. Her one true love has always been the Empire. An Imperial standard raised above a battlefield touches her heart in ways that even her late husband never could. She is a cold woman, and she knows it. She does not care.

 

 

Drusilla Ven’rai has never been in love, and she knows that she never will be. She was not designed for it. She tell herself that love doesn’t mean anything, that it’s just a set of chemical reactions in the brain. It’s inefficient and unnecessary. Still, sometimes she can’t help but be curious as to what it’s like. She’ll never know.

 

 

Darth Ravage invites his newest apprentice to dinner. They both know what that really means. He is just as surprised as she is when he sends her away at the end of the evening. He spends the night alone, wondering what the hell is wrong with him and why can’t he stop thinking of that damn woman? His dreams are filled with ivory skin and black hair and a sly, mysterious smile. When he wakes, he tries to devise new ways to have Nox killed. His heart isn’t in it.

 

 

Sharinet Merrik uses the day as an excuse to go off duty and get very, very drunk. Well, not too drunk. She stays sober enough to flirt with the pretty young woman at the other end of the bar. One must always remain sufficiently alert for sensible social interactions. She ends up leaving alone, but she supposes that’s all right; a responsible officer shouldn’t sleep around with civilians. A little late for her to start following that rule now, but better late than never.

 

 

Savadar Ekari takes the opportunity of everyone’s attention being focused elsewhere to lock himself in his study and look at the holocron he smuggled in a few weeks ago. The Jedi gatekeeper is suspicious, but is willing to give him a chance. He wants to learn this. He wants more than what the dark side can offer him.

 

 

Companions:

 

Jaesa Willsaam has a date. She’s not really interested in a relationship, but she figures she may as well. Besides, the young Sith is so very cute.

 

 

Kaliyo Djannis is having fun. Illegally, of course. Wouldn’t be fun if it weren’t.

 

 

Doctor Lokin is thoroughly absorbed in his latest project.

 

 

Raina Temple is fretting over the fact that she doesn’t have a date. She tries to distract herself with work. It’s partially effective.

 

 

SCORPIO lurks in a dark place, biding her time.

 

 

Xalek wanders. No one dares cause trouble with the alien who is Darth Nox’s apprentice.

 

 

Talos Drellik is so caught up in his work that he doesn’t even notice the time of day, much less the date.

 

 

Andronikos Revel is still bitter. He tries to drown his sorrows, and it doesn’t work. It never does. Damn Nox.

 

 

Khem Val stands guard in the antechamber of Nox’s rooms and recalls the glorious victory celebrations at Yn and Chabosh. He nods to her as she passes him on her way into the inner chambers, pale and regal, like a manifestation of his Mistress Death herself. He nods again as she returns a few moments later in a new dress, then disappears into the night to stalk new prey.

 

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