Marcus Lok
Code Cracker
So it was possible that she would want to go... The realization made him all the more apt to pursue the idea since he now knew that her seeming inability to leave the planet had nothing to do with her wants. It must be the child then, and it would certainly be a very good reason to not want to drift too far away from home. He would show her what he could while they were away... Perhaps even more than Spira. And all the while, the same nagging feeling of the responsibility that would come with such a decision weighed on his shoulders. How should he react to the idea of suddenly becoming a father? Or close to one at any rate...
"Oh, well i'm sure they'd understand your want to get off world... A girl can't spend all of her time at the ranch. Maybe a little sun is all you need."
Now there was a thought, Mesh's mother and the Mandalore himself watching over the small boy while they ran off into the stars to relax on the beaches of a such a foreign world. Of course, he would leave it to her to ask the question to her mother, after all it wouldn't rightly be his place to ask them such a thing. Or so he thought, anyways.
The truth about Marcus was that Mandalorian life had come to puzzle him as of late. He found himself not so attatched to the core values of their culture and beliefs as he had been when under the watchful eye of his father. Sure he still wore the armor, spoke the language, and practiced many of the same traditions, but in leaving Mandalorian space for an extended amount of time, he had almost felt as if he had been in some small way corrupted by the Galaxy. He knew where his loyalties lay, but some of the more devoted ideals had long since slipped from his grasp. It was one of the reasons that he often found having his armor sit on a rack to be more suitable when lounging around at home, for the point of wearing it to every single occasion had simply become a bit of an oddity due to how people had reacted around the core worlds and the smuggler's moon. Of course on Nar Shaddaa, no one had really cared, but clients in the upper scale areas of Coruscant were not always kind enough to refrain from commenting on his plates scratching their upholstery... So... In interest of keeping them happy, he had adopted the idea that maybe a bit of time away from the Beskar would not be such a bad idea. Though this was not often, and most of the time he was proud to wear the skin that his father had crafted so many years ago.
"I think I'd like that... So long as you don't fall asleep somewhere in the middle."
A quick smile would come across his face as he made way for the sofa and the holo-emitter that was sure to bring this night to a close. He had it up and running fairly quickly, and soon the flashes of light that would signal the beginning of the picture came to life. And there he sat, awaiting the golden haired beauty from the country.
[member="Mesh'la Dral"]
"Oh, well i'm sure they'd understand your want to get off world... A girl can't spend all of her time at the ranch. Maybe a little sun is all you need."
Now there was a thought, Mesh's mother and the Mandalore himself watching over the small boy while they ran off into the stars to relax on the beaches of a such a foreign world. Of course, he would leave it to her to ask the question to her mother, after all it wouldn't rightly be his place to ask them such a thing. Or so he thought, anyways.
The truth about Marcus was that Mandalorian life had come to puzzle him as of late. He found himself not so attatched to the core values of their culture and beliefs as he had been when under the watchful eye of his father. Sure he still wore the armor, spoke the language, and practiced many of the same traditions, but in leaving Mandalorian space for an extended amount of time, he had almost felt as if he had been in some small way corrupted by the Galaxy. He knew where his loyalties lay, but some of the more devoted ideals had long since slipped from his grasp. It was one of the reasons that he often found having his armor sit on a rack to be more suitable when lounging around at home, for the point of wearing it to every single occasion had simply become a bit of an oddity due to how people had reacted around the core worlds and the smuggler's moon. Of course on Nar Shaddaa, no one had really cared, but clients in the upper scale areas of Coruscant were not always kind enough to refrain from commenting on his plates scratching their upholstery... So... In interest of keeping them happy, he had adopted the idea that maybe a bit of time away from the Beskar would not be such a bad idea. Though this was not often, and most of the time he was proud to wear the skin that his father had crafted so many years ago.
"I think I'd like that... So long as you don't fall asleep somewhere in the middle."
A quick smile would come across his face as he made way for the sofa and the holo-emitter that was sure to bring this night to a close. He had it up and running fairly quickly, and soon the flashes of light that would signal the beginning of the picture came to life. And there he sat, awaiting the golden haired beauty from the country.
[member="Mesh'la Dral"]
