Private Of Fathers and Abuse

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz looked up, blinking at the sound of his name, trying to banish the lingering phantoms of grief from his mind. He saw Cora reaching out to him with a hand, and a confused expression crossed his face. Was she trying to steal some of his food—no, that was stupid, Cora would never do something so uncouth. Then was she reaching for his hand, as a gesture of comfort? That made more sense, she'd done that before—

Then she flicked him in the forehead, with enough force to actually sting a little bit. He let out a noise that was some cross between surprised and insulted, backing his head away lest she do it again.

"Hey! What was that for—"

"Gatz, why do you think I'm here?"

But in contrast to the flicking of his head, her voice was still soft. It was funny, really: when they'd first met, Gatz wouldn't have thought she was capable of anything other than cutting words and projecting a spiny exterior. He was very, very glad to have been wrong. Cora had shown him so much kindness in the few months they'd known each other. Kindness he didn't deserve.

Except... maybe he did.

It was hard not to immediately refute her words. How could he not feel alone, when his family was dead and buried. Except... here Cora was, having tagged along on a trip she really had no business being on. But she'd come anyways, just to make sure he'd be safe.

How many times had Valery Noble reached out that very same way? Inviting him over for dinner, taking him to lunch, bringing him along on missions—the list of ways she tried to spend time with him just went on.

If he went to Briana for help right now, she'd drop everything to offer it.

If he went to Inanna for guidance, she'd give it.

If he went to Lossa to talk, she'd listen.

Gatz leaned back in his seat, expression pensive. At some point tears had started to fall from his eyes—not a thing of sobbing, but a silent affair. Because, yes, Mom and Dad were dead. Klein too. But somehow, at some point in time, he had started surrounding himself with people. Good people, who had only ever offered him kindness, understanding, and help.

And he had more of them now than he'd ever had in his life, family or not.

"I think," Gatz spoke at last, voice hoarse, "that I would really like to make her macaroni salad for all of you."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched Gatz carefully. A rigid noble upbringing made it difficult for her to express her own emotions in a healthy way, much less to help someone else with their own complicated feelings. A few long moments passed as Gatz processed things, and Cora slowed her chewing.

What if she'd only made things worse? It wouldn't be the first time, and she couldn't begin to imagine what it must've been like to be in Gatz's shoes. He was always hard on himself.

Then he spoke, his voice raw.

"I think," Gatz spoke at last, voice hoarse, "that I would really like to make her macaroni salad for all of you."

Oh, thank Ashla.

Cora put down her fork, and in a slow gesture, reached across the table to place her hand on Gatz's shoulder.

"I think that's a lovely idea, Gatz."

She squeezed his shoulder before removing her hand from his person and wrapped it around her mug. Cora smiled from behind the rim of the cup, then took a short sip.

"I can aid you in preparing the ingredients, if you so desire."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora reached her hand out to him again. Gatz eyed it warily, assuming she was going to flick him again. But, instead, it found itself resting on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. It was... reassuring, in a way he wasn't used to receiving. That alone almost made him start crying again: because Cora was the first person to ever ask about his parents. The first person to let him talk about them.

The first person to reassure him that he wasn't alone, because she was here when he needed her. No lecture. No shutting him down. No walking away from him. No yelling at him for bringing it up.

Just a gentle reminder.

"Thank you," Gatz whispered.

And still, Cora didn't stop there. She even went on to offer him help; to offer to assist him in putting the recipe together. That made that lump in his throat come back, but this time he managed to swallow past it. There was only so much crying Gatz was willing to do in front of others. That, and... the tears that threatened to spring forth were grateful tears, but he didn't want Cora to get the wrong idea and assume she'd said something that hurt him.

Better to just dry his eyes with the back of his hand.

Then, in an attempt to be the Gatz that Cora knew and was often exasperated by, he spoke up:

"...Cora, have you ever chopped a vegetable in your life?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The silence that fell over them was not an uncomfortable one. Sometimes, no words were needed, and Cora was content to let Gatz have all of the space he required in order to sort his feelings. She would remain here, quietly, until she was needed. If she was needed.

His whispered gratitude brought an awkward, albeit genuine smile to her face. Not for his gratitude – though, she appreciated that – but because Gatz finally seemed to be a little more at peace with himself and with who he was.

Her eyes did narrow just a tic from behind that mug as he posed a question regarding her experience with food preparation.

"I'm sure that I have, at some point." She waved him off as if it were a silly notion, when in reality, she couldn't name the last time she'd chopped a vegetable. Because Cora hadn't, but she was convinced that she had. When you went from the life of a pampered noblewoman to a Jedi, you were bound to miss a few steps in between.

"How hard could it be, anyway? All you probably need is a...knife. And a vegetable."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

He owed Cora. He owed Cora so much. The worst part? Gatz knew Cora wouldn't accept the idea of him being indebted to her. "Friendships aren't meant to be transactional" and all that. But... he wouldn't be here now, a Jedi in the making, without her. He'd have collapsed from exhaustion and starvation if she hadn't intervened. He'd have flunked out of the Order if she hadn't put aside time to tutor him. Hell, her presence on this trip of theirs might very well save him from an early death.

And he'd never have returned at all, if Cora hadn't reminded him, that day on Ukatis, that he wouldn't have to struggle alone.

How did a man pay back his loved ones? Gatz didn't know. He didn't know how to pay Valery back, he didn't know how to pay Briana back, and now he didn't know how to pay Cora back. It left him feel guilty, and like he was taking advantage of her friendship. But despite that... for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone.

"I promise one day I'll manage to do something for you."

It was quiet, but it was a vow. First impressions aside, Cora had never shown him anything but kindness. Now, sometimes that kindness was hidden behind a haughty attitude and cutting words... but those were just Cora-isms. She wouldn't be Cora von Ascania if she was sweet and soft all the time.

He did, however, treasure these quiet moments when she let those prickly mechanisms fall away. They were glimpses under the armor she'd been forced to don because of her father and her abusive piece of shit ex-husband. They were... they were her. A version of her he suspected few were fortunate enough to witness.

"How hard could it be, anyway? All you probably need is a...knife. And a vegetable."

"Well, that's not incorrect, but—"

Whatever Gatz was going to say next was cut off by R4 speeding into the room at ridiculous speed. So fast, in fact, that the stupid hunk of metal couldn't slow down in time, and slammed into the rear wall so hard that he bounced off of it. He somehow managed to land on all three of his wheeled struts, chittering in unintelligible binary as his dome spun disoriented circles.

"Of all the astromechs in the galaxy, and I get the one with brain damage."

<You're brain damaged! Also we're here.>

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"I promise one day I'll manage to do something for you."

"Gatz, you pulled my little sister out of a pile of rubble."

Cora mirrored the quiet tone of his voice. Even now, a year and change later, she could still recall how rapidly her heart beat when she lifted the debris that had trapped Fantine. Just as viscerally, she felt the relief that washed over her when Gatz had extracted her body.

She didn't say anything else and let that thought sit. Gatz didn't need to be berated, not right now. Cora attributed part of this to her fatigue, and she sipped at her caf once more.

Maybe she could manage a little prickliness, especially when Gatz pressed her on the question of whether or not she'd ever prepared a vegetable. A brow arched, but before she could prepare a response, R4 wheeled haphazardly into the room and slammed directly into a wall.

Cora grimaced, but the astromech seemed to be undamaged. Or at least, he hadn't accumulated any additional damage.

Probably.

"Oh, Ashla."

A thought struck her. They were on Nar Shaddaa, and she was expected to blend in by wearing yesterday's clothes. Which might actually work, but…

"I am not dressed for this."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Gatz, you pulled my little sister out of a pile of rubble."

"Yeah, but that's not—" Gatz furrowed his brow, "I mean, who wouldn't do that? There was a person under rubble holding another person. Anyone would have helped you with that. So that—that doesn't count. Probably?"

Gatz was having a hard time disproving Cora's point. Oddly enough, he often had trouble disproving Cora's points. She was, unfortunately for him, usually correct. And, frankly, if he had a little sister and someone unburied her, wouldn't he have considered that a personal favor?

"It's still not enough," was what Gatz decided on, "not after all you've done for me."

Much to Gatz's amusement, Cora then expressed her worry over what she was wearing. Leave it to a rich girl to make a fuss over her clothes on Nar Shaddaa. Except... again, she was kind of right. She looked like an amalgamation of a Jedi and a Princess, not some spice runner or poor bastard just trying to eke by on a moon ran by crime.

"'Oh Ashla' is another dead giveaway," Gatz commented, "criminals don't make expletives out of Jedi religion."

Jedi weren't exactly welcome on Nar Shaddaa. If they wanted to make it to Roche's favorite bar unabated, then they'd need to blend in. That was easy enough for him—he was scruffy enough to pass as a smuggler. Because he'd been one for over half a decade. But Cora... even disheveled from sleep, she still looked far too put together to pass for Nar Shaddaa trash like him.

"But you're right. You're too pretty and too well-dressed. You're likely to stick out like a sore thumb. Unless..." Gatz trailed off, grimaced, and then ultimately decided on a course of action, "...how do you feel about wearing another woman's clothes?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Gatz deflected that his involvement in saving her little sister's life wasn't anything special. Cora gave him a wary look, but it lacked any actual bite.

"Don't make me flick you again."

Then, he honed in on her speech patterns. Cora had the gall to look mildly offended.

"Well, what do criminals say?"

It wasn't as if she hadn't heard legitimate curse words in her lifetime. She just tended not to use them.

Cora couldn't say much regarding her looks - she tried to be neat and clean, well put together in whatever circumstance she found herself in. It wasn't atypical for a Ukatian noble, but perhaps it was a bit much for the Shaddaan scum she was supposed to emulate.

Gatz's suggestion had her scowling through another sip of caf.

"Why do you have…ugh, don't tell me that you've kept garments from your various…conquests. Those poor women."

Her upper lip curled in disgust at the probable origin of Gatz's collection of female clothing. Unless…

She shook that thought away.

"Something clean. And not too revealing. I'll just have to burn my skin off, after this is all over."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The threat of another of Cora's deadly flicks had Gatz shutting his mouth, though with a smile.

Not alone, he reminded himself, not any longer.

Gatz found himself pondering on how Cora should act. Because it wasn't really something he'd thought about before. He'd never played the part of a smuggler, he'd simply been a smuggler. It had come almost intrinsically, and he'd never really taken the time to breakdown how he and his former colleagues acted. How they spoke. How they lived.

But he knew that Cora didn't come close to the way they were—the way he used to be. Now, that wasn't a bad thing. Gatz rather liked that Cora was a woman born into means, if only because it influenced her attitude and her demeanor. But she couldn't blend in on Nar Shaddaa, and the last thing you wanted on the Smuggler's Moon was to stand out.

"They curse. Properly." Gatz shrugged, "not your style, so... maybe just avoid expletives of any kind."

"Why do you have…ugh, don't tell me that you've kept garments from your various…conquests. Those poor women."

"Well... because I laundered them and expected them to want their clothes back. But then they never came and got them. What am I supposed to do, throw out someone else's clothes?"

Though, two years out of this life, maybe that was the proper answer. It wasn't like he'd ever run into any of his former one-time lovers again. It just felt sort of... mean to do. And yet, keeping them was probably far more strange than just tossing them.

"They're in the back of my closet. Just go take a peek, and find something that suits you. Or, well, find something that you can live with."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

No cursing. Cora could get behind that.

She supposed that Gatz's explanation made sense on the surface, and she wasn't willing to probe any further into the specifics. That did little to lessen her scowl, though. With a long sip to finish of her caf, Cora rose and gave Gatz a disappointed shake of her head.

"This day is getting stranger by the minute," she sighed, "but thank you for breakfast. You're a talented cook, Gatz."

With that, she paced for his bedroom, stopping the moment her toe crossed the threshold. Only a short while ago, he'd caught her snooping in his Lady Velvet collection. There were layers of reasons why that was embarrassing, not even counting Gatz's silly lies. With pink cheeks, Cora resolved to find something halfway decent, then get the hell out of this place of sin.

Rifling through his closet seemed...inappropriate. Especially when the first item she picked from the box of 'discarded one night stand garments' was utterly heinous. Cora held the glittery pink piece out in front of her, extending it as far away from her body as she could, and shivered. She dropped it to the ground with a barely suppressed gag, having lost a little more respect for Gatz.

At least there were some less...loud options. Despite being of noble birth, Cora's personal style tended towards more simplistic, high-quality clothing. She could make one of the two work, here, maybe. After making her selection, she stalked to the fresher to change. A basic tan shirt, paired with a darker brown jacket and slacks would have to do. The belt was a nice touch, she thought.

Making her way back to the cockpit, Cora held both of her arms out so that Gatz could take in – and hopefully approve of – her outfit.

"This feels disgusting," she declared, "but at least some of the women you've had relations with don't dress like gutter tramps."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"This day is getting stranger by the minute," she sighed, "but thank you for breakfast. You're a talented cook, Gatz."

"You're... welcome?"

Gatz wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say or not. But at least half of what she'd said had been a compliment, right?

Some part of him probably should have been concerned with the idea of her going into his room, alone, to rifle through the box at the back of his closet. But Cora had already seen the things he was most ashamed of sharing with someone, so... really, what was the point? Oh no, she might see that he only had three changes of clothes these days. Or she might see some of things that some of the people he'd been with had worn.

Not really a big deal to him, now that she knew about his Lady Velvet collection.

Cora walked back out a few minutes later, and Gatz looked up, only to be stunned. He blinked, mouth parted, taking in the sight of a princess dressed like a scoundrel. She looked a lot better than she did, because of course she did. He tried to think of something to say, some word that was appropriate to use to describe how his friend looked, but honestly there was really only one.

"You look hot." He admitted, "and more importantly, you look like scoundrel scum!"

She still kind of looked like a princess, actually. But, like, a princess of crime and not of an agricultural kingdom. Damn, this façade might actually work. They might actually pass as partners in crime. Now... they just had to act the part. Long enough to get to whatever hole-in-the-wall bar that Roche was frequenting these days.

"Also: don't insult gutter tramps. They provide a wonderful service for many people in need of them. All you're doing is putting down your fellow working women."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

To Gatz's observation, Cora rolled her eyes. She supposed it was a good thing, at least, that she looked the part. Or well, enough of it as she was willing to do. Surprisingly, some of Gatz's amorous partners had a decently modest outfit between them.

"Working women?" She spat back, flustered that he'd included her in such a category and mildly horrified at the implication that he'd procured such services. "Don't try and guilt me over that. Sometimes women make poor choices."

Cora scowled while levying Gatz with a bombastic side eye. Honestly.

They still had a task ahead of them. From what Gatz had told her, Roche was probably in a tight spot regarding credits and crime. Hopefully, whatever they needed to do would be quick and relatively clean, so for now, she tamped down her disgust.

"Is there any sort of…" she rolled her wrist in the air, "...way I need to act? I've gone undercover as a commoner before, so I do believe that I can play the part."

That wasn't to say that she didn't prefer her assignments to require her to act like a high-class debutante. In fact, whenever the need arose, she tended to be the Order's favored choice. It was in her upbringing. But acting like scum? Well...

"Just tell me how to act."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Damn. No blush for his comment. Red Cora was his favorite Cora. But, Gatz supposed that she was always going to acclimate to him commenting on her beauty. It was a shame, and it robbed him of a source of amusement, but at least it meant she was comfortable enough around him to roll her eyes at him. That, in itself, was enough to put a smile on his face: because it meant he'd successfully wormed his way into the princess' small circle of those she cared about.

She was foolish to care about him, but he loved her for doing so anyways. Just like Valery, Briana, Lossa and the rest of the idiots.

"Don't try and guilt me over that. Sometimes women make poor choices."

That comment did turn his smile into a frown, though.

"For some women, that's their only ticket to a meal." Gatz explained gently, "don't begrudge them for surviving. Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose."

He let the topic rest there. Gatz didn't think he needed to explain further. Cora was snappy and quick to judge, but she was also compassionate and willing to reevaluate her stances once new information was given to her. Proof: she was friends with him of all people.

But then his smile came back, a devious thing, as Cora told him to instruct her on how to act. Oh man, that could be a hell of a lot of fun. If they hadn't been here on (supposedly) serious business, he'd have absolutely abused that power to mortify his favorite princess by making her commit several social faux pas. Alas, he had to be responsible and good today.

"I'll give you more pointers on the way," Gatz stood from his seat, "but basically: be selfish. You're only looking out for yourself. And put a grimace on your face—you know, like that disdained expression you usually wear!"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"For some women, that's their only ticket to a meal." Gatz explained gently, "don't begrudge them for surviving. Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose."

Pale cheeks flushed, this time out of embarrassment for what she'd said. Although she'd been raised a certain way, Cora knew better than that, by now. She couldn't judge a woman for resorting to unsavory means in order to survive.

"R-right," she agreed hoarsely. Cora cleared her throat and amended her earlier statement: "I didn’t mean to belittle women for trying to make ends meet. What I, er, meant was that any woman who would engage in such acts with you is making a…poor…choice…"

Oh, Ashla. It felt entirely too awkward to try and explain that she was actually making a dig at Gatz, not at the poor women who were trying to survive.

She waved a hand in a vague gesture, as if she were trying to shoo that piece of the conversation away.

With a sigh, she smoothed back her hair and followed after Gatz. When he encouraged her to be selfish, she scowled -

-right when he told her to. Cora huffed, offended. "I don't grimace." She paused, adjusting her face so that her lips pulled into a straight line. It looked entirely unnatural.

"But I suppose that I can try, for the sake of the mission."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The blush on her face told Gatz that Cora realized how rash her judgement had been. As he'd expected. Her prickly exterior didn't always show it, but Cora was more empathetic than most people he'd met. She was simply good people. Her haughty streak was nothing more than a quirk one had to become accustomed to. Gatz rather liked that, really. If nothing else, it meant conversation with her would always be interesting.

"I didn’t mean to belittle women for trying to make ends meet. What I, er, meant was that any woman who would engage in such acts with you is making a…poor…choice…"

Gatz frowned, actually a little hurt. He, embarrassingly, pulled at the collar of his shirt and looked downward at a torso wrapped in grotesque scars. His frown turned into something more depressed.

"You're probably right."

He stepped past her, and down the boarding ramp. His boots his Nar Shaddaa proper: rusting, creaking metal decks built atop rusting, creaking metal spires. The smell hit him immediately: like a dumpster, a sewer, and a dead animal all at once. Something so foul that the olfactory senses of most people who lived here had simply been eroded away, lest they be driven insane by the stench.

It was the smell of home.

"Roche told me to meet him in some hole-in-the-wall bar he frequents these days," Gatz explained, "it's not far from here, but it is in The Red Light district. Put a frown on your face, glare at anyone that gets to close, and keep your hands on your wallet."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Gatz frowned, actually a little hurt. He, embarrassingly, pulled at the collar of his shirt and looked downward at a torso wrapped in grotesque scars. His frown turned into something more depressed.

Cora's visage immediately softened with regret. Part of her had anticipated that Gatz would've fired back with something equally snippy, but she'd been dancing so close to the line that she hadn't realized when she'd stepped over it.

Force, he looked…hurt. That wasn't kind.

Her lips parted slightly, but then paused as the apology she wanted to give him couldn't find the right words to express itself. Before she could conjure up something suitable, they'd made it down the boarding ramp and walked into a cloud of what she assumed was rotting garbage.

Gatz seemed totally unaffected by the unpleasant scent of their surroundings. Putting a frown on her face wasn't difficult as Cora was already scowling.

"Was there a sewage spill nearby?" She muttered to Gatz. Hopefully there had been, or she wouldn't be able to survive their little excursion.

Cora's hand slid to press against the inner pocket of her jacket where she'd stored her wallet. It would likely stay there for the duration of their mission.

"…Is the Red Light district where…erm, you know…women of the night sell their…wares?"

She lowered her voice so that her question would stay between them.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

He forced himself past his hurt feelings. There was no point in letting himself be upset over what she'd said. Because this was Cora. He loved her. Because she was good. Truly, wholly good. Compassionate. Kind, beneath that prickly exterior she wore as armor. Without her, he'd have failed as a Jedi long ago. Without her, he'd never have found the courage to try.

So if she wanted to find him repulsive, well, he could let her. There were few friends in the galaxy as good as Corazona von Ascania.

"Was there a sewage spill nearby?"

"Yes. Everywhere."

It was honestly the best possible answer to her question. Waste and utilities weren't exactly priorities on Nar Shaddaa. Nal Hutta smelled even worse. Gatz wondered if the Hutts liked this smell, or if they could even smell at all. Or maybe taking proper care of sewage would just cost them too much money. The more he thought about it, the more that seemed the most likely explanation.

He'd only just begun to lead Cora to the bar when she whispered her question. Gatz snorted and snickered at the way she phrased it.

Lady of the Night?

"Prostitutes?" Gatz really was trying not to laugh, but he was failing awfully bad, "yeah. I mean, they're everywhere, but this is where they congregate. So, uh, don't be surprised if you get a few propositions as we walk. Women aren't always treated with the respect they deserve here. Just—just ignore them."