I Need Some Subtitles... Oh, Wait... (Miria Lasedri)

[Watcher Three]

Watcher Three stood above the Spyglass' berth on one of the many small trade stations above Ryloth. It was undergoing the sort of repairs and upgrades that might have gotten him arrested if the Rebel Alliance had still had as much organization as they'd had before. They didn't, though, and everything illegal always came to Ryloth.

And he could almost see, he thought, his beautiful ship whirring and buzzing as the maintenance droids added some things, and moved others. He figured that maybe he should be drinking or eating to allay the locals' suspicions about him, since he'd been standing on that observation deck for close to ten hours.

Strategically, it didn't matter who knew that he was a droid, but he enjoyed his pseudo-humanity and didn't wish to have to deal with the fear or suspicion that being a replica droid often caused in other people. It was sad, and somewhat disturbing to him.

And then Watcher decided that it was time to stop thinking about droid philosophy and go get a fucking drink. Even though he couldn't really get drunk.

Oh well.

[member='Miria Lasedri']

 

[Miria Lasedri]

Spoiler

Stop it with the clever thread titles. You're making the rest of us look bad.

Ryloth was a planet largely foreign to Miria. But then, that wasn't say much, given that the majority of her childhood had been spent in an orphanage on Chandrila, where her only real method of entertainment was to sneak out and walk the streets of her own accord. Thousands of planets in the galaxy were unknown to her, other than the aforementioned world and those few miscellaneous planets she accompanied her mother to. Always on official business, always among senators and politicians of various standings, and rarely ever alone. That was her way of life, and she couldn't say she exactly minded it. After all, how many other teenagers could say their mother was the leader of the Galactic Republic itself? Only one fair-haired, ghostly pale girl with a tail to match had that honor.

And it was she who currently wandered Ryloth, or more accurately one of the stations situated in the space above it, wearing nothing more than a pastel pink sundress and dark shoes to match. Once again, as was common, she wasn't supposed to be alone. But never did any teenager ever bother with actually doing what they were supposed to. Sure, they might entertain the thought for a time, and perhaps get more than halfway with the task, but rarely would it ever get accomplished. And it was that logic, however flawed, that she would use in her own defense. It wasn't safe for her to go off alone, being the Prime Minister's daughter, but that had likely never stopped the children of those previous leaders, and there wasn't any good reason as to why it should have prevented her from enjoying her day. Oh, she would make an interesting politician, alright. There was no doubt about that.

With that probably flawed logic in mind she wandered about, absently wondering at what official business her mother could possibly have here, of all places. It wasn't as if anything particularly spectacular set the planet apart from the millions of others scattered about the galaxy like a child's dropped marble set. And on this station, of all places, where nothing of note was transpiring other than a few ships getting repaired here and there. But vessels like that were always getting touch-ups, and really, shouldn't there have been something more worthwhile to do? It wasn't that she didn't appreciate time alone to simply think and observe others without much fear of being whisked away by this or that official pledged to her protection. But even someone so well adapted to being alone chanced to get bored every once in awhile. And this was one of those times.

With her tail swaying absently behind her, she paused to observe the maintenance droids whirring about, deciding to content herself with this until she was inevitably escorted away to the next locale. Then her silver gaze strayed to the man standing above the ship. Maybe she wouldn't be bored for long.

[member="Watcher Three"]

 

[Watcher Three]

Spoiler

Never! I will direct all my snark into my thread titles

Just as Watcher had picked up a beer from a nearby serving droid, the prickling sensation started. It was really only something that happened to him as a defense mechanism when either his security system alert went off, or when... there was somebody with a large number of midichlorians? What the hell would somebody like a Jedi or Sith be doing on this dinky little station? Ryloth wasn't exactly a Core world, and this station was definitely one of the less known ones.

The blue-haired replica droid looked around in disbelief, his blind eyes searching for the person setting off the old mechu macture-made device in his head. He finally settled on a person who looked like a really dark puddle of Force Energy, as opposed to the tiny water droplet-ish signatures on the various people he always met who had next to no Force sensitivity. All he could tell was that he was either taking to a small guy or a girl, she was turned towards him, and that she had some kind of small disturbance in the air behind her - the kind either a tail or wings would create.

So, he was either dealing with a Force Sensitive kitty, a similarly powerful avian, or some kind of humanoid that had a bit of an unusual physical structure. She probably thought he was staring at her, but of course... He was simply trying to discern what she was. Oh, what the hell? He nodded at her in greeting, "You staring at me, girlie? I appreciate it, but I'm a taken and guarded man."

[member="Miria Lasedri"]

 

[Miria Lasedri]

Spoiler

Force save us all.

As he seemed to closely study her Miria did the same, neither of them speaking for long moments, each lost in their own silently observant thoughts. There was something different about him that she couldn't quite place, a minute trait that set him apart from the other sentients currently milling about this very same station. It was a detail most wouldn't have noticed in passing, and she almost overlooked it, deeming it a product of nothing more than her own overactive imagination. But the feeling still persisted, and so she began to think that perhaps it wasn't just her own mind thinking these things up on a whim. But it wouldn't do good to ask aloud and come off as rude, so she would disregard them for the time being. Perhaps her own sort of research could be done later.

It was he who broke the silence first, addressing her as he likely would any wayward child that happened by and looked on for too long. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - for him, she was far from the average teenager. Perhaps just as small in stature and big in ambition as any other, but the similarities tended to begin and end there. Her rarely ceased silence often set her apart from the crowd, allowing her to watch others while going unnoticed herself, for the most part. It also impacted her communication, as she tended to get her point across with a galactically applicable form of sign language. And it was that same form of silent words she put forth now, her hands weaving through the air in patterns that chanced to confuse most, "I wasn't staring. Merely observing." Besides, she could have asked him the same question.

Briefly she glanced to his ship, looking it over once more before returning to studying him. That same feeling of something being off with him still persisted, a thoughtful frown minutely creasing her brow. Perhaps he wasn't human, or at least not wholly so, something that was entirely possible given the vast amount of individuals that inhabited the greater galaxy. It hadn't crossed her mind yet that he was anything less than another organic, but in time maybe that observation would come. And he was likely still at odds with her species as well. Most were, especially with the addition of her tail. Her head tilted nearly imperceptibly to one side, hands continuing in those fluid motions, "I'm Miria. What's your name?" Her surname would go unmentioned. Such was better for everyone.

[member="Watcher Three"]

 

[Watcher Three]

Watcher tilted his head when no response came. All he could feel was movement in the air in front of where the girl was. He didn't know whether to try and say something about it, or just glance around, or even stare with something like polite skepticism. The final verdict was just to keep drinking his beer and see if the patterns she was making in the air actually meant anything. He tilted his head to one side, and felt one of his long bangs fall across his face.

Finally, he felt that he had to say something, or this would get extremely awkward. He gently put his beer down on the windowsill, sighed through his nose, and leaned back on the glass behind him. With a slight shrug, he explained his lack of reaction, "Wish I could tell what you were doing, there, but you might as well be flailing your arms around in the air for the explanation you're giving me right now."

[member="Miria Lasedri"]

 

[Miria Lasedri]

It was her turn to sigh quietly at all that he had to say. This man wasn't the first person who was unable to understand her sign language, nor would he be the last. That just meant Miria would have to compensate through other means, which this time meant verbally communicating all that she otherwise had attempted to sign. Just as always, her voice was quiet, only loud enough so as to be audible, as it always was whenever she deigned to actually speak aloud. He was, if she was counting correctly, only the second person she had spoken out loud to in her fourteen years of life. Otherwise she had signed, or written out all that she wished to say. "I said that my name is Miria, and that I wasn't staring. I was only observing." There was a difference, after all.

Her tail twitched as if announcing its presence by its own accord. But she didn't address it, not seeing that appendage as anything vital to this conversation. They were merely two individuals, each as equally curious about the other and wondering at each other's purpose on that particular space station. This was the most ordinary talk she had had in awhile, with one who wasn't an import politician or a senator of a planet that supposedly made them borderline royalty. Instead she was speaking with an ordinary person who likely couldn't care either way that her adopted mother happened to be the Prime Minister of the Galactic Republic itself. "What's your name?" It was a fair enough question, in her mind. The chances of him recognizing her with the reveal of her first name were slim to none.

[member="Watcher Three"]

 

[Watcher Three]

Watcher smiled at the girl, hopping down from the window to stand in front of her. The sigh was a little bit expected, as nobody who just looked at him could tell that he was blind. To most people, her voice would have barely been audible, but the Typhoon Commodore could hear her quite clearly. He thought about apologizing, but how was he supposed to apologize for not being able to see her gestures? It was kind of awkward. He replied, "Nice name, Miria. My name's Watcher. Watcher Three. As spy-like as that sounds, I'm not an Imperial."

He collapsed into a nearby chair and smiled wider. At least he was going to get to converse with somebody who wasn't his crew. Somebody new. That was definitely a good thing. And then he remembered his earlier thought, "Oh, it might be helpful if you know I'm blind. And, I can hear you perfectly clear."

[member="Miria Lasedri"]

 

[Miria Lasedri]

A solitary blink was her only response to the discovery of his sightlessness. It certainly made sense, in the grand scheme of things, but it was the last thing Miria would have guessed at. It was nothing new to encounter one that was all but oblivious to just how her sign language functioned, and most times she had resorted to writing down whatever she had meant to sign in a carefully penned script. Now, however, with his being blind, she would instead have to speak aloud. Being one that took solace in a careful sort of silence above all else, she was marginally at odds with the idea fo having to communicate verbally. But it wouldn't do good to appear rude to one that couldn't help his disability. "I don't think I'd be allowed to talk to you if you were an Imperial." Or maybe she would. There wasn't much she could say she knew for sure about her mother's political affiliations.

Taking a few slow steps forward, she sat down in a chair across from him, her tail curling to rest on her lap. A part of her idly wondered why he hadn't deigned to simply replace or repair his eyes, but she supposed there was likely some hindrance preventing him from doing so. Most wouldn't electively remain blind, or so she assumed. At the very least, she wouldn't deign to do so. "What brings you to Ryloth? It wasn't just the conversation in the space stations here, I'm guessing." That was some sort of humor, of what kind she wasn't particularly certain. She had never been like the children her age, and the same careless jokes and demeanor most teenagers carried about them came a fraction more difficult to her. But she would try, at least for once, to appear the average teen, if just for the sake of blending in as best she could given her rather unique countenance.

[member="Watcher Three"]

 

[Watcher Three]

Watcher took a bit more beer as he raised his eyebrow at Miria. Observant girl. Pretty clearly not much for banter, though.​

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"You're right, of course. Ryloth isn't much of a view from up here, but it's more fun being down there than watching it from up here. For a certain value of 'view' and 'watch'."​

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He heard a small rustling noise as she sat down, and he tilted his head towards her again.​

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"Are you covered in fur, or something?"​

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[member="Miria Lasedri"]​