Blast to the Past

[A'Runda]

(4 BBY)​

Two Weeks After Incident​

​

A'Runda was sitting down, back against a dumpster near the end of an ally way. The Tusken was hungry, thirsty, dirty, and lost, the only thing he new was that he was in Coruscant's lower levels. He was even having a hard time remembering who he was or how he got there. Like the last couple of years have been slowly slipping from his mind. He did know that his name was A'Runda of Clan Rok'urkus from Tatooine who left his clan do to supernatural powers manifesting in him.

The Tusken felt as though he was reverting back to his earlier years of being exiled. With that came how he felt during that time, confused, frustrated, and angry. With those negative feelings came a toxic festering within him, something that only compounded his upset feelings. The most recent memories he had were of being on a planet, going somewhere he was told not to go. The planet was dry like his home world. A'runda remembers entering a large and eroded establishment. The next thing he knew he was waking up onto of a massive pile of trash with only his lightsaber, gaffi stick, and garbs on him. After crawling his way up a seemingly endless city he later found out he was in the bottom of the political capital of the galaxy. Not only that, but that years were off, and everyone looked as though they were using far less advanced tech then he was exposed to in his exile.

With no real helpful knowledge, tools, or credits A'Runda feared that his very much ill fitted for this alien environment he found himself in. Concerned that he was to now waste away in the shadows of a sky-less city for the rest of the foreseeable future. All he knew for certain though was that he was alone. It was as if he was playing one of those hologames, and it reset on a much higher difficulty. Yet even being covered head to toe in filthy garbs his more traditionalist values kept them on him. He'd rather die covered in grime then without his dignity by exposing skin.

[member=Last-Nerd-Bard]

​

 

[Nerd Wizard]

The Underworld of Coruscant, even at the uppermost levels where one could see the skyline between the buildings, was gray and mottled by the many shadows of passing airspeeders overhead, and it was kept alive by the constant motion, laughter and the inane babblings of dozens upon dozens of many varied beings conducting business, gossiping or arguing in knotted clusters. Indeed, few of them walked alone or with merely a single companion. However, the fact of group affiliation, in all of its many forms, never had done much to stop Riskyr Trafnal - far too often, the fact had never entered her head due to nearly a lifetime's worth of alienation from her peers. If nothing else, the girl's choice in clothing couldn't be said to fit anything even remotely traditional in regards to mainstream Bothan culture: the blood-stripe along the thighs of her loose-fitting, black, rumpled and worn breeches signified her pants as Corellian. The tan fur along the Bothan's midriff was revealed her flat stomach, the fur ruffled in response to the heat in the summer air, courtesy of the dark green tank top that adorned her slender, boyish torso. Finally, the fabric of the gray hoodie dangled in the wind behind the teen, the arms of the garment tied loosely around her waist as the Bothan made her way confidently across the platform, squinting in defiance up at a sign for a moment before continuing on her way, reading glasses be damned. She was keeping them in their case in her pocket, where the lenses couldn't be soiled by the exhaust from the passing airspeeders just above the platform.

So, it was with an air of nonchalance that the scrawny, boyish Bothan female made her way through the morning's foot traffic, accompanied only by the whirring footsteps of the dull, shadowy gray 88-series administration droid that was her constant companion. Occasionally, the droid's head would swivel to one side or the other to focus on one of the mildly-curious clusters of aliens all around them, even despite the latter proving to be no threat at all. The droid, was, in fact, acting akin to an overprotective guardian to the petite female that marched before him, her own unkempt, scarlet-haired head swaying this way and that as she paused at the entrance to an alleyway, seemingly distracted by the flash of energy that crossed her cyan eyes and the blue-violet photoreceptor of the droid's rounded head.

The flash had finally subsided, and, with the droid following the Bothan all-the-more closely as the female wordlessly entered the dimly-lit alley, calmy making her way past a small pile of rotten Muja fruit, still in the opened crate it had been tossed away in. Standing next to a faded, green dumpster, the Bothan's nostrils wrinkled in disgust as the full force of the smell of rotting food, discarded droid parts, used Death Sticks and machine oil began to overwhelm her.

It was whilst casting a sidelong glance at the dumpster next to her that her droid stiffened behind her, his hand reaching down at his side to wrap his artificial digits around the handle of the blaster pistol the two had been brave enough to carry in public. The Bothan's head shifted to one side, and her mouth shifted into a left-sided, crooked smile as she beheld an alien, his features obscured by a dirty, worn garb that looked to belong to some sort of desert-dwelling species and the goggled, tightly-wrapped mask of cloth of his (presumably) humanoid features.

The Bothan clucked her tongue as she beheld the bedraggled, dirty creature, and crossed her thin arms over her petite chest as she nonetheless kept her smile as friendly as possible. A twitch of her right ear indicared to her droid that he should merely watch and wait for the signal. As the being was still obscured partially by the shadows and seemed to be more confused then threatening, Riskyr decided to gauge his motives first. "Uh..." The Bothan coughed into one closed hand to clear her throat, "You look a bit lost, and dirty... Are you in need of assistance, Sir? Or ma'am? Or both? Chaos take me, you never know these days, with the social justice crap that's infecting Coruscant's population..."

(Hope you enjoy it... I'm nitpicky over my own work, nowadays. My confidence is at an all-time low... x.x )

@A'Runda

 

[A'Runda]

With the mix of hunger, tiredness, and confusion A'Rund had felt himself slipping into a restful state. Like he was falling asleep. If dying on this crowded planet was his fate he'd feel a great deal of shame. To die away from his home world would mean his spirit was truly severed from it. Then he heard something, and the eyes behind his goggles opened back up, if only half way. Weakly he looked up at the figure standing before him. It was an alien, a Bothan if he was correct, looking down at him. Beside her was a droid. Although it wasn't immediate, he could tell she was a young women, and was smiling down at him.

Was she here to mock him? That's the first thing he thought of, either that or she was gonna take what little he had on him. He was too exhausted to even use The Force to sense her motives. His sluggish movements made him look intoxicated to a degree. "Assis-ass... what do you wanna do to my-? No I don't want it..." Clearly the non-native Galatic basic speaker didn't know what assistance was or just misheard her, but it could easily be a combination of the two. Instead he seemed to believe she was asking to violate him in some way.

"Just go ahhhhh..." Unable to finish his sentence he slumped over in her direction. Losing the support of the dumpster his upper body fell onto the grown in front of her and her droid. It that didn't make it clear this was somebody in need of help, even if their pride said otherwise.

[member="Last-Nerd-Bard"]

 

[Nerd Wizard]

The droid next to the Bothan swiveled his head back and forth between his owner and the strange, out-of-place being who leaned against the dumpster before the two, appearing exhausted , so far as they could tell, beneath his featureless clothing and unusual mask. Upon determining that the sentient before them proved to be no threat, the droid's hand casually released its grip on the blaster at his side.

"Easy, Sevenkay," The corners of the Bothan's muzzle turned down in a slight frown of concern as she leaned forward, arms crossed over her petite, boyish chest as she shifted closer to the alien who nearly wobbled in front of her, even as he renewed his efforts to hold onto the receptacle next to him. At this, Riskyr reached a thin hand up to brush a stray lock of her short, fiery, unkempt hair away from her eyes with a snort of laughter as she muddled over his confusion and not-unjustified fear. In a somewhat confused tone, the teen continued, "Uh... I'm not gonna touch your exposed butt... Uh, that's not exactly legal at my age..." The Bothan gasped a second later as the alien wobbled forwards, then tilted back and groaned as the last of his strength gave out and he collapsed forwards one last time to roughly collapse before the awestruck teen.

Motioning to her droid, the lithe Bothan walked past the machine, casually grasping and removing the blaster pistol from her companion's hip, twirling it once at an Ualaq Aqualish who had stopped to leer down the alley at the three wayfarers, his blubbery, fat and distended body jiggling as he took a step back, the dirty stripes of rough-looking black leather he wore almost able to smelled from where Riskyr stood - if anything, the Ualaq's powerful stink might have served to properly wake the desert-dwelling newcomer. Even as the droid carefully and easily lifted the robed alien from the duracrete ground by gently reaching under his neck and below his kneecaps, the Ualaq's four eyes flashed with caution as he considered his odds, before he settled his blubbery arms to his sides and waddled away from the three. He did this while walking backwards, and Risk contemplated a warning shot: he still appeared to be sizing the two up... However, the grossly-huge Aqualish finally turned on his heel and began to saunter away from them.

"Yeah, kiss it..." The Bothan turned to one side and used her free hand to gently pat over one side of her scrawny butt, giving her hips a gentle sway as he lowered her blaster pistol down to her side and back around behind her aforementioned backside, doing her best to appear casual even as she hid her weapon from view - a single Stormtrooper walked past, giving her a curious glance for only a moment, before he continued on his way, no doubt beginning a patrol of the area. The teen's droid finally reached her side, and allowed the female to carefully replace her weapon at the machine's hip once again.

Wordlessly, the Bothan led the way, a single sway of her finger indicating to her droid that he should follow. The overhanging awning of a nearby restaurant would serve as casual, decent place for her to wait for the alien to revive, and then she could try to communicate with him... With that, the droid set the alien down, while the Bothan sat on one side to support him, and the droid took the other side of a long durasteel bench where they could relax and enjoy the passerby (hopefully) without encountering any more trouble. The Bothan's eyes lit up as she beheld the hilt of what she suspected to be a lightsaber. Resting the fabric over her hoodie over the hilt, the Bothan resolved to question the newcomer when he awoke... She felt excited upon seeing the weapon, and wondered if he would like to discuss the topic further when he came to... Motioning to the droid, who wordlessly got up and, taking a credit stick from his owner, proceeded to enter the restaurant's line to procure drinks for the Bothan and their undoubtedly thirsty companion, who would need some water upon awakening. Settling her head back against the bench, the Bothan silently, patiently watched the myriad crowd of chattering, laughing aliens who walked around the restaurant as she waited for the alien to awaken.

@A'Runda

 

[A'Runda]

Although it would take longer then she probably expected A'Runda did in fact wake up from his slumber. Since his rest wasn't very long he only had a little bit of sleep. He dreamed of a time where he was back on Tatooine, back with his tribe, during a simpler time. However, he still felt as thought he could fall asleep again since there was still no new nutrition for his body to obtain as far as he knew. However, when he woke up he was looking up at the dim, under city sky. And felt like he was sitting in a chair. Feeling his back supported as he found himself in a slouched sitting position.

Letting out a sigh and blinking two or three times he realized he wasn't in the ally with the dumpster. His mouth agape he weakly turned his head to the side, seeing the Bothan girl from before. What was she still doing with him and why wasn't he at the dumpster anymore? Those were only a few of the questions going through the Tusken's mind.

Looking over he saw that the droid was with them as well, and it looked as though they had drinks. Behind the red tinted lenses of his goggles his eyes widened at the sight of fresh beverages. But he didn't currently have the energy to reach out an snag one, even with the force. Speaking of which if he was actually in a different time period then he had to keep his force using skills to a minimum. Gently he reached down where his light saber is... or was.

Feeling a sense of shock at its absence he patted himself down some before looking back at the Bothan. "What'd you do with it? Did you tell anybody?" He said with an annoyed yet weak voice. A'Runda sounded worried, like he was gonna be taken in by the authorities now and she was some kind of Force Sensitive bounty hunter. It's not like she needed to restrain him, he wasn't going anywhere.

[member="Last-Nerd-Bard"]

 

[Nerd Wizard]

Riskyr was patient, quiet and completely aloof from the rest of the Undercity as it walked around all her and her currently-unconscious, newfound companion. Most of them paying the two (three once the droid returned, his blue-violet photoreceptors sizing up the crowd at regular intervals due to an exaggerated sense of caution) virtually no heed at all. The Ualaq Aqualish glowered at the three from the shadows across the street, but a friendly (sarcastic) wave from the teen managed to get him to sulk back into the darkness.

Taking a healthy draw from one of the disposable, unadorned gray cups that the droid had returned with, the Bothan's sleepy-eyed, bored gaze finally widened, her head turning excitedly to the side as the strange, lightsaber-wielding alien that lay resting next to her. Though his lightsaber was currently hidden away beneath the arm of her overcoat, the Bothan would be sure to give it back. For the moment, she settled for watching the being curiously as he took a few short moments to come to his senses proper. As he focused upon her, the Bothan politely nodded and smiled at him, though she remained too transfixed on the makeup of his headwear and the goggles that adorned him to bother saying anything, at first. Just off to the Bothan's side her droid could be seen, now sitting next to her and with his head swiveling to the side to gaze over the goggled alien, still remaining eerily silent as he did so. However, a mere moment later, the droid returned to surveying the crowd.

"Uh, hi, officially..." The female smiled at the alien, her gray-furred right hand lifting to offer a shy, gentle wave of her digits. Upon hearing the creature's concerned words for his possession, the Bothan offered the male a left-sided smile and raised a single finger to her lips, giggled softly as she did so. "Hmm..." she continued, "What kind of a show of respect would it be to the greatest tales of the Old Republic if I were to take a well-made lightsaber and give it over to the Imps, hmm?" The female clucked her tongue and used her free hand to brush a stray lock of her short-cut scarlet hair away from her turquoise eyes, even as she smiled widened on the left side of her mouth, only, giving her the appearance of a childrens' holovid animation. "It's right here..." The teen lifted the arm of her hoodie, revealing the freshly-cleaned hilt, bright and unmolested, under the fabric.

"However..." the Bothan offered the alien a friendly smile, "I've got a ton of questions... First, what species are you? Also, where did you manage to find this?" The Bothan paused, then coughed into her right palm, before once again looking eagerly at the male, "I'm a storyteller, you see... I'd like to talk to you for a bit, after you, of course, have some water... If you even drink the stuff, that is..." The Bothan chuckled softly, even as she used her free hand to grasp the top of the unused cup she had set to one side on the bench, next to her thigh, and raised it up in offering to the male, a sweet and hopeful smile on her muzzle, "If you want it... Also, my name is Riskyr Trafnal... You got one too, right?"

@A'Runda

 

[A'Runda]

As she smiled at him he had a inquisitive expression behind his garb. No matter how in vain since it was covered, it was still there. 'Greatest tales of the Old Republic?' She must not be someone who has fallen for Imperial propaganda. From the short amount of time he has been here it seems like they did a pretty good job at tarnishing the name of the Jedi, not that he was actually one of them.

Despite the tiredness he was under he prepared himself for whatever incoming barrage of questions the Bothan girl may have. After she finished asking for the moment he took the cup and nodded to her. Then it seemed as though he began to pour the water on his over his respirator, yet non of it went beyond it. Tusken respirators were made so one could drink with them being worn. It would be impractical to constantly need to take off ones mask to drink where he was from. He quickly downed the whole cup and let out a rather quenched and content sigh.

Looking back to the Bothan girl, who couldn't seem to stop looking at him. "My name's A'Runda." But then he remebered she gave her last name. He didn't really have a last name, not in the traditional sense. "Uh, A'Runda Rok'urkus..." That second part was the name of his tribe. Another way to identify a Tusken. "And I'm just a human, sorry to let you down. Also..." He gently reached with his hand some and summoned his lightsaber hilt with The Force to his palm. It quickly leaving her custody and into his for him to quickly conceal. "I didn't find this, I made it." Then he quickly looked around to make sure nobody saw what he just did. Looking back at her he leaned in some to speak to her. "Listen, Riskyr was it, where I come from water's sacred, so for now you can consider me in your debt. I'm guessing you have even more questions now, but if you wanna discuss further I'd recommend somewhere less, public. If you have a place I'd say we go there." Then he leaned back into a more casual position. He needed to remeber he was an un-welcomed guest during this time. But what she did for him he considered a great act of kindness, one he won't easily forget, and if all she'd want from him is to talk, he could easily do that.

[member="Last-Nerd-Bard"]

 

[Nerd Wizard]

The Bothan twitched a single tapered ear as she quietly, patiently listened to the alien in between his sips (if they could be properly called that) of the water he had been given. It was at this point that the Bothan's other companion, the 88-series administrative droid, its head still swiveling to and fro as it watched the crowd like a paranoid mynock, chose to make his presence known. An electronic, oddly monotone voice interjected in Basic, "Mistress," it began, its violet-blue photoreceptors, rounded and seeming to brighten as it spoke, "We would, of course, have the utmost privacy behind the Temple itself." The droid intoned, "The crowds celebrating the Emperor's birthday will ensure that security at the Temple ruins will be somewhat lax."

At this, Riskyr's eyes brightened and the left corner of her mouth began to tug gently upwards as she raised a scrawny leg up, resting her elbow on her raised knee and her goatee-bearing muzzle on her palm thoughtfully. She smiled crookedly at the alien again, even as he whisked his weapon back, as if by magic, into his palm and quickly hid away the recognizable object. "Hmm... Thanks, Sevenkay." With a chuckle, she then turned to her companion again. "Well, first off, you can shorten my name to 'Risk', if you want... Easier to remember that way. Also, humans are cute and give great hugs, should the need ever arise for one." The Bothan rolled the tip of her tongue somewhat crudely and childishly along the front of her blunt, ever-so-slightly yellowed teeth (poor brushing habits among teens, let me tell you...) and seemed to be considering some new questions.

Finally, after a few moments during which she listened to the oddly-dressed human noisily finish up the rest of his water, Riskyr, the Bothan shifted her resting leg, arm and chin towards him once more. "Well, first off, let's get a cab... Somewhere more quiet, along the lines of what he said..." She gestured to her lanky, steel-blue droid as it got to its feet, her arms lowering back down to her sides and her foot hitting the duracrete beneath as she, too, got to her feet and stretched her arms above her frazzled head of scarlet hair, tan fur ruffling along her lanky arms with the action. Her Chandrilan-accented voice seemed to be issuing a challenge as she spoke to the masked human, "You wanna help me break into the old Jedi Temple Archives? The place is so full of holes that, if we're careful, we might be able to get in and out unseen... If nothing else, we can just talk while hiding out behind the place. I'm open to suggestions once we get there." The Bothan offered him an adventurous smile, even as she extended her gray-furred right hand out to grasp his and help him up. "I gotta ask why you dress like that.. No human I've ever met would willingly go outside looking like that."

(I'll save further questions from the chatterbox for future posts. <3 )

BONUS:

7k-88's voice:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bgBjgkoMe0

Riskyr's voice and singing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WANtr4s5alE

In-universe, Chandrilan accents are Aussie accents, because it's cute.

 

[A'Runda]

The Tusken began to yawn behind his mask as the droid spoke, despite getting hydrated he was still malnourished and tired. Listening to her talk about getting a cap he wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't even know what a taxi was either, and they're the same thing. Such things didn't exist in a Tusken's world. Watching her as she talked he listened to her go on about her thoughts on humans. Personally he had a bit of resentment towards everything non-Tusken, even fellow humans. Being someone who'd been so involved in the culture.

"I don't know why you'd want me to break into there with you. I'm not actually a Jedi, those guys are a tough clan to get into from what I've heard." He said, bringing up a bit of a counter to her suggestion. Then he watched as she got up and reached a hand out to him. Feeling it would be impolite to decline he grabbed a hold and got up with her. With her help it did make getting back on two feet easier. "But uh, if you wanna go I guess we can, I am in your debt." He added.

Looking down at the Bothan girl he listened to her question about his attire. "It's part of my culture, as a Tusken I must not show my body or skin. To do so is horribly offensive and would be bad where I come from. I believe it's just another piece of culture that came from thousands of harsh years on my home world." It wasn't out of the ordinary for simple survival norms to be turned into hallmarks of Tusken culture. A'Runda could easily go on about all sorts of aspects of his cultural background. But as of now he'd answer the questions she'd ask. Looking at her droid, and back at her, he spoke again. "So, uh, lead the way Miss Risk."

[member="Last-Nerd-Bard"]

 

[Nerd Wizard]

The Bothan had been delicately and carefully scratching her scrawny backside in the most ladylike manner possible, one tapered ear raised as she politely listened to the Tusken's words, each spoken somewhat slowly, as the male seemed to put plenty of thought behind his every sentence. Despite her initial energetic mannerisms, the lithe female had by now settled into her standard habit of listening, as she did when amongst any crowd, no matter where she went. 7K-88, meanwhile, had continued to swivel his head, casting his blue-violet photoreceptors over the crowd, the droid's claw-like fingers resting almost idly over the butt of the blaster pistol that hung from his waist.

Meanwhile, on the topic of butts, the Bothan continued to idly pick at the seat of her loose-fitting breeches (some women are all charm...), the hanging fabric of her hoodie swaying awkwardly at her side as the teen continued to pick at the seat of her pants; a sheepish, toothy grin was directed up at the older alien, "What are you staring for? Surely..." She grunted, then sighed contentedly as the fabric of her underlying boxers slipped free, scratching over one side of her stomach as an afterthought, "Surely you've had that happen to you? You must have, at some point, with all of that cloth you've got on you..." The teen squinted up at the cloth-wrapped human, her turquoise eyes soon widening as an ominous sound reverberated between the two companions: a low gurgling sounded forth from the depths of the cloth-strewn human. The petite, lanky Bothan's jaw fell open, before the corner of her mouth turned up in time with a slightly embarrassed grin. "Well, I guess that means that you and I should at least get some food first - my Father would be so angry with me... Though, to be fair, all of that cloth, those goggles and the respirator over your mouth makes it hard to tell that you were, in fact, famished. Still, he'd be cursing me out if he ever heard of this happened."

Shifting down along her sides, the teen's hands slipped into the expansive warmth of her breeches' pockets, one of which returned with a palm-sized credit chip. "A full stomach and plenty of hydration would do wonders before our little escapade, I must say." The female's turquoise eyes shifted towards a line of restaurants down the platform, "My treat, A'Ru..." The Bothan huffed, even as the stoic and ever-patient droid's spindly legs fell almost in unison with the teen's own, a single hand lightly lacing her fingers, child-like, in the Tusken's clothed digits. The crowd was polite enough, despite a rather crass Ishi Tib, to let the three pass. "You probably wouldn't like my Dad... He's a medic, and he'd have had you out of those rags as soon as he saw you fall, if you hadn't gotten up quickly enough..." The female clucked her tongue, the fingers of her free hand idly rubbing thumb and forefinger through the wisp-like fur of her Bothan goatee. "On the topic of those clothes of yours... Why are they so significant to you? I don't think I've ever even seen a human who dresses like you, beyond that strange cult with the blue robes for men and pink robes for women Dad and I encountered on Serrano about a year ago..."

(Hope you don't mind our continuing this. <3 )