Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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First Reply Herdships Aren't a Great Place to Ponder the Future


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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Open to a Jedi, or anyone who might reasonably be onboard The Vonnuvi


Though Gatz was very familiar with The Vonnuvi, it was rare of him to explore beyond the walls of the Jedi Enclave. He stayed within it's confines for a handful of reasons: his studies took priority and therefore exploring the station was a distraction, he was often too tired by the end of the day to spend his free time doing anything other than napping, and he felt out of place on the herdship. That last one, in truth, was the main reason he'd stuck to the Enclave.

It wasn't because he wasn't Ithorian—about a third of the people who called The Vonnuvi home weren't. It was because the herdship was a passive, peaceful place. And Gatz was not a passive, or peaceful man. It wasn't as if he was rejected by this place or it's people, on the contrary, he'd found the Ithorian custodians to be nothing but welcoming. But something inside of him called to action and chaos, and it made him feel as though he didn't belong.

Feeling like he didn't belong was a common occurrence in his life, funny enough.

It was why Gatz found himself on the lower observation deck of the station, not alone per se, but at a distance from the other groups and couples that had come to take a look at the depth of space itself. He was here, alone as he often was, pondering on the turns his life had taken. Here he was, a Jedi Padawan barely keeping his head afloat. Broke, with a bank account in the negative. Flirting and courting with Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus —actual Nubian nobility—who was his something-yet-to-be-defined, and pregnant with a child that wasn't his. And then there were the visions, reoccurring, and of a future him who had fallen far.

So, he had a lot to ponder.

Gatz missed the simplicity of delivering drugs. But those days were gone, and he had no intention of returning to them. The only way forward was, well, forward. He just didn't know what that looked like. Gatz supposed that was what he was trying to figure out.

 




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TAGS:
Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
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Braze stumbled in to the room. He was lost. He spotted Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar and padded over. " Hey... do you know where I can find the blue milk, mister?"

The smaller was dressed in over sized pajamas and had his arm in a sling. He was disheveled looked but relatively clean and clinically treated, He had several wounds that were covered up and bandaged. He didn't even have shoes on as he walked in with bare feet on cold metal flooring.

Braze had no idea what swarming thoughts and feeling poor Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar was contemplating. All Braze knew was he was a vaguely familiar face. He recognized him from Coruscant. He was quite possibly the only person here Braze felt the slightest bit more comfortable approaching with his queries.

 
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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


A voice shook Gatz from his thoughts. He turned around and came face to face with... well, a face he recognized, but only knew through others. A Padawan, like him, but of the proper age. And he was in pajamas, covered in bandages, and he wasn't wearing shoes. First things first: he was going to address that. Poor kid didn't need to go around barefoot.

....When did he become the Order's babysitter? But then, Gatz knew the answer: the moment he'd joined, and felt compelled to look after his younger peers.

"Braze, right?" Gatz guessed at the name, "Knight Kai'el's Padawan?"

But introductions were secondary. Gatz was more concerned that he was out here in the state he was in.

"I'd be happy to help you find someone who sells blue milk, but can I ask what you're doing out here so late? And where your shoes are? And why you aren't back at the Enclave?"

It wasn't that he thought Braze couldn't take care of himself, but he figured Knight Kai'el, Master Serys-Organa, and Val would be displeased if he didn't make sure the teenager made it back to the Enclave.

 





Braze, with a hint of weariness in his voice, remarked, "Ah well.. It's a Long Story. " He rubbed his eyes, still feeling the remnants of his extensive slumber. "Besides I just woke up from a 16 hour nap. " Braze stated simply. "I couldn't imagine sleeping much more. But I'm just really starving at right now. I'd love something substantial to tide me over. I haven't really had much in the way of food in these last few days. " Braze stated. As if to punctuate his earlier explanation he couldn't help as a yawning stretch overtook him, a groggy yet satisfying release. He politely covered his mouth, his body relishing the stretch and the deep yawn.

Skillfully, Braze steered clear of the topic regarding proper footwear. he did this by Braze rather adamantly ignoring the question asked about proper foot wear. He hoping to just skip right over that. He didn't much care for shoes, and if he was by himself; he didn't seem to see the need in conforming to normal shoe wearing. He very much had a nonchalant attitude towards shoes, preferring the freedom of being barefoot.

Curiosity piqued, Braze redirected the conversation, his gaze fixed on the funny blonde man as he inquired, "Why are you here?" Braze asked spinning the question around on the man.
 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


"We'll get you some food. And blue milk."

Sixteen hours was a hell of a nap. But, judging by the fact that the kid looked like he'd just walked out of the infirmary, Gatz supposed sleeping for that long made sense. He'd certainly had his fair share of coma-like states after all the times he'd been injured or near death. That only made Gatz worry about Braze more though. He really ought to get the kid back to the Enclave soon-ish.

Gatz gestured for Braze to follow him. He'd feed the growing teenager, and then subtlety try to shuffle him back to the Enclave.

"Why are you here?"

"Girlfriend troubles," Gatz wasn't actually dating Lossa, but it was easier to explain this way, "needed some time to think through a couple things. I've always been better at doing that with a good view."

Not that Gatz had really gotten anywhere with that. But he could always come back later. Right now, Braze was more important than his wounded ego. And even at his worst, Gatz wasn't the kind of guy to just ignore someone who asked for help.

 




Braze trotted along beside Gatz, his demeanor bright and eager. "Awesome, I would love that," he chirped enthusiastically. When Gatz shared his dilemma, Braze's head tilted, a gesture of curiosity and slight confusion painting his features as he regarded Gatz with a thoughtful expression.

"You have a pretty face and some sense of color coordination... maybe try a nice cologne?" Braze suggested, his advice delivered with a naive earnestness. In his mind, the complexities of relationship troubles were simplified to the basic challenges of attraction—surely, smelling nice could only help Gatz's cause.

"What do you like to eat? Maybe they have your favorite food aboard the ship somewhere? I'm not too picky; I like most things..." Braze mused aloud, his thoughts meandering as he considered the possibilities. Then, a sudden realization sparked in his eyes, and he looked at Gatz with renewed curiosity. "Say, why would you be on a ship—oh! Are you trying to broaden your net, as it were, by trying to fish in a different pond?"

Braze's understanding of relationships was straightforward and innocent. He knew that people often sought companionship, doing nice things for each other in the pursuit of mutual affection. Yet, his awareness of the galaxy's diversity reminded him that love and attraction weren't limited by species or conventional norms. 'Maybe Gatz wanted an Ithorian girlfriend...' Braze pondered silently, not one to judge.


 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


Okay... blue milk and food. Where the hell was he going to find blue milk and food on The Vonnuvi? For all his many trips out to the station, Gatz still wasn't exactly familiar with the layout. Until today, he'd spent pretty much all of his time at the Enclave, drowning in one lesson or another. He'd have been nose buried in a textbook tonight, if not for the troubles plaguing his mind.

"You have a pretty face and some sense of color coordination... maybe try a nice cologne?"

Gatz chuckled at that.

"It's a little more complicated than that," he was willing to share that much, "she's definitely interested. And so am I. But we're in a particularly awkward situation, and I don't think either one of us knows how to navigate it. I think we'll figure things out though."

Gatz knew he wanted to be with her. That wasn't in question. It was... the baggage—except he couldn't call it that, because a child wasn't baggage, they were simply a child. And an innocent party in an otherwise twisted situation. But could he really be a parental figure in her kid's life? Did he have the right to be, when the kid in question wasn't his? What if—

He shook those thoughts away. He could mull over them later. Right now, there was another kid to worry about, and Braze deserved his full focus.

"I've always been a pasta guy myself, but I'm not picky." Gatz confessed, "what are you hungry for? We'll find that for you, and I'll find something there for myself."

But then came the question of why he was here. Questions like that usually had a long and complicated answer, and one that he rarely knew how to properly articulate. Fortunately, this one had a very simple answer that was easily explained.

"I'm here to study medicine, and Force Healing. And what better place to do that than at the Enclave that the Chief Healer herself founded?"

 




"OH, that's a good thing to learn," Braze offered, his tone oddly cheerful yet unmistakably forced. The cheerfulness wasn't because he wasn't happy for him; rather, his thoughts drifting to the subject of healing brought a shadow over his mood. The prognosis on his arm wasn't a great one.

"I like hearty soups made from bacon-flavored chasu stocks with springy noodles and eggs. I also like fish and rice quite a bit," he offered, trying to steer the conversation towards lighter topics. "But I'm not too picky," he added, after expressing his culinary preferences.

"What made you suddenly want to become a healer?" he asked curiously, genuinely interested in Gatz's sudden pivot towards the healing arts.
"Is it how you think you can help others best? Or is it more personal?"

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


Soups, fish, and rice. That was easy enough to find. Gatz didn't know what Ithorian cuisine was like, but he had to imagine that The Vonnuvi catered to other humanoid species as well, and considering that humans were the most populous species in the galaxy, he doubted the two of them would have trouble finding a restaurant or vendor that offered what Braze was looking for.

"We'll look around a bit. I'm sure we can find something to your tastes."

Braze then turned the conversation to Gatz, and about his goal of learning Force Healing. It was hard to answer the teenager's question without revealing some heavy, dark things that he didn't like to talk about. He'd only ever discussed his past at length with three people, and a fourth person who'd literally had unwanted access to his brain for months on end.

It wasn't an easy topic for him to broach.

"I'm just... trying to do better," Gatz tried to keep it simple, "helping people, and mending their hurt seems a good way to go about that."

It glossed over a lot, but what he'd said was honest and pure. It just missed a lot of details, that was all.

"What about you? Why are you here?"

 




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LOCATION:
TAGS:
Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
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"I told you, It's a Long Story. " Braze began, his expression shifting to a slight frown as he pondered the best way to articulate his recent adventures. "I was on a mission to retrieve a Kyber Shard from Mygeeto, , an ancient crystal that resonates with the Force. It was rumored to be concealed within the ruins of an old Jedi outpost. However, my quest took an unexpected turn when I was ambushed by a bounty hunter," he paused, the memory of Karkosuchus lingering in the air like a bad omen.

"I managed to stow away on the exterior of his ship, hiding in the landing gear compartment. Unfortunately, I found myself wedged between the mechanisms. My unplanned journey took me from a desolate desert planet to a space station orbiting Nal Hutta. And then... well, things get a bit hazy after that. I encountered someone who offered their help, I think. My memories of that encounter are fuzzy, almost like trying to recall a dream."

Braze's voice trailed off, a look of concentration etched on his face as he attempted to piece together the fragmented memories. "I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew, I woke up here."

His story was filled with gaps and uncertainties, but it painted a picture of a harrowing and chaotic venture.


 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


When Gatz had asked why Braze was here, the last thing he'd expected was the long and haunting explanation his fellow Padawan had provided. Gatz knew a little something about strife and pain, and he knew it was something he certainly didn't want for any kid, Jedi or otherwise. Why was it that the galaxy kept throwing children into the meat grinder?

Is that what they were fighting for? A Jedi Order that gladly put Padawans in harm's way?

"Alright. As soon as we get some food in you, we're going back to the Enclave. We need to contact the Temple on Coruscant, and make sure everyone knows that you're safe."

Gatz picked up the pace a little then, urgent not only to feed Braze, but ensure he was tucked away safely within the walls of Master Serys-Organa's Enclave. Did Knight Kai'el even know his Padawan was safe? Gatz wasn't sure, but he'd contact Coruscant the moment they returned to find out. A wayward Padawan just ended up here by chance, walking around the station lost?

The Order owed their students better than that. And Gatz would make damn sure his fellow Padawans were accounted for and taken care of, even if he had to kick down the door to the Council Chambers and lecture the Council himself.

"Does Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el know you're safe, at least?"

 




"Ya know... I don't think so? I couldn't remember his comlink number. I don't know where I left my things. I kinda... just woke up without my stuff," Braze admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and concern. The realization seemed to weigh on him, the pieces of the puzzle not quite fitting together in his mind. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, revealing the disarray that sometimes lurked beneath his usually confident exterior. "When I woke up no one was around I think it's 'night time'?"
"What makes you think you need to be better?"
Braze then asked, curiosity lighting up his tone as he followed along. His knack for asking endless questions was evident, a trait that he had carried with him through the years. Despite growing older, this aspect of his personality remained unchanged.


 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


Oh shit. Jasper didn't even know where Braze was, or if he was alright? That needed to be amended as soon as Gatz got some food in the kid. That went beyond just contacting the temple: they needed to contact Knight Kai'el directly. Unfortunately, Gatz had only ever met the man in passing, and Braze couldn't remember the number. So he'd have to figure out how to work around that.

"I think I know someone who might be able to contact him directly."

...Gatz hoped Master Amani Serys Amani Serys wouldn't mind him banging on her door for a phone number of all things. But she and Knight Kai'el sat on the Council together, and she was the only person on The Vonnuvi that he knew of who might have Jasper's number. And if she was willing to fly all the way out to New Cov just to give him a lesson, then he was certain she'd go out of her way to help a wayward Padawan.

Even if it was nearly midnight.

Gatz turned the corner and happened upon some kind of tiny diner. Judging from the advertisements, it served some kind of soup. That was good enough.

"What makes you think you need to be better?"

"Oh, I just haven't always made the best choices, that's all," Gatz glossed over his life of crime, "figured giving the Order a second try might be the best way to amend that."

 




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TAGS:
Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
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"Well, if you've made a lot of mistakes, then I guess that makes you pretty wise, huh? After all, you've survived whatever mistakes you've made—you can only learn from them, right?" Braze asked, trying to reassure Gatz. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I'll stop asking if I'm making you uncomfortable," Braze offered.

"I don't like talking about my problems either, especially with people I know. I don't want them to judge me or be disappointed by the kinds of things I've chosen to do. I guess it's my pride that gets in the way, even when I know I probably should talk about my feelings."
Braze offered as he moved to step inside and pick out a booth they could sit at. He chose a spot near a window and settled in happily enough. " I don't particularly like asking for help... I prefer to do things on my own and I feel kinda embarrassed whenever I gotta ask for help. "
 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


"I wish I could tell you that I was wise," Gatz admitted, "but I barely know what I'm doing most days."

He longed for the confidence and wisdom people like Valery and Master Serys-Organa had. Most days, Gatz barely knew what to do with himself. Hell, most days he barely knew himself. Most of his friends, as few as they numbered, had their shit together. He was barely scraping by. If he hadn't returned to the Order, he'd have starved to death already.

"You're not making me uncomfortable," Gatz slid into the booth, "I just... don't see much point in talking about those days. I think about them enough as is."

Gatz took a look at the menu, searching for something small. He wasn't particularly hungry, and had really only come to here to make sure Braze ate something, but a light snack wouldn't kill him. Probably. Unless the Ithorians were into poisoning clueless humans.

"I understand not wanting to ask for help. I've been given help far too often. If I take any more... at that point, I may as well be abusing the goodwill of the people around me. And they deserve better than that from me."

 




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TAGS:
Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
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"I'm not sure... sometimes talking to others can give you a different perspective on things," Braze said with a shrug. He glanced over the selection before him and pointed at an item that caught his eye. "How about this one? Does it seem okay to you?" he asked, seeking approval for his choice.​


 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


Braze pointed at a menu item, some kind soup Gatz was unfamiliar with. It didn't seem to have any addendums about being toxic to humans though, so he didn't think there'd be any problem with the teenager ordering it.

"It looks fine to me, but you don't need my approval," Gatz shook his head, "order what you want. All I care is that we get some food in you."

Gatz took a quick glance at his own menu, finding something akin to tomato soup and grilled cheese on it. That seemed good enough to him: small, but filling, and he hadn't had tomato soup (or its counterparts) in a very long time.

 




"Thanks, I appreciate that," Braze said with a grateful nod. When their orders arrived, Braze attacked his meal with a voracity that bordered on alarming. He consumed his soup with such gusto that it seemed less like eating and more like a mission to empty the bowl as quickly as possible. It was clear this wasn't just hunger; it was as if he was making up for meals missed, his actions driven by a deeper need.

After a few moments of intense focus on his meal, Braze finally looked up, his appetite momentarily sated. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his demeanor shifting from ravenous to inquisitive. "So, I've noticed you around the temple a few times," he began, his tone casual but genuinely interested. "What exactly do you do there?"


 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Braze Braze


The kid ate like he was starving. Which, Gatz supposed that he probably was. Especially if he'd just woken up after getting patch up, on an unfamiliar space station. Gatz knew all too well what that was like: to rise after taking a wound that should have killed him, disoriented and confused on how he was even alive, or where he was. But he'd always had someone around to push him back into the cot, and reassure him that he was safe and that things were fine.

Judging by the way Braze had been wandering the station, he wasn't sure there'd been anyone around when he woke up. That bothered the former smuggler immensely.

Braze then asked a question that made Gatz blink. But then, it wasn't really all that odd when he thought about it. Few Padawans were as old as he was, and fewer still dressed like a scoundrel.

"I'm a Padawan, like you Braze." He said, "admittedly, one who is more than a little behind in his studies. But I'm a Jedi too."

 




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TAGS:
Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
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Braze's eyes lit up with an eager spark, his whole demeanor shifting to one of palpable anticipation. "Really~?! Who's your master?" he inquired, his voice laced with a childlike thrill.

Pausing, his expression then softened a hint of self-doubt clouding his bright features. "I don't think I'm a very good padawan," he confessed, a shadow of concern in his tone. "I really want to protect Jasper, but I think he sees me as... too small and precious to trust me to fight beside him. Like I'm some kind of breakable glass ornament or something." His voice trailed off, the weight of his insecurities making him momentarily introspective.



 

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