Skinship

[Vlora Eldar]

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noun; bonding through the intimacy of touch between a parent and child.​

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Shogun, Te Veman's Temple, The Courtyard, Afternoon
Aliit | Interacting with [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Kilum Bralor"] ~ When The Wolves Cry Out ~ "When the wolves cry out, echoes in the old walls."
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Shogun had, in the time following the Veman's arrival, become rather bustling.

Mailed figures wandered around the once-empty courtyard of the old temple, various stalls occupied with food, medicines, beskad, whatever it was the fiery warriors required. Vlora, as a weapons merchant, had her own such stall, one she lounged in with booted feet propped up on the counter unceremoniously. Her products catered more towards those looking to do a little exploratory mining, as it were -- Though she doubted any were actually interested in doing that, considering how reverently her kinsmen treated the world. As they should, though. If Mantis was to be believed, Mand'alors slept here.

Various thermal detonators lined the counter-top, a few buy'ce-donned heads turning in curiosity, but it didn't matter. They'd buy them, they wouldn't. Such was the merchant life. Worst case, she had to donate them to the cause. No doubt someone would give her a crate of drink for that, at least.

Marbled eyes scanned the dusty plaza. White lips parted in a sigh. This was going to be a boring day, wasn't it? Her head reeled back and she looked to the canopied 'roof' of the sheltered market, watching the old fabrics flap in the faint wind.

 

[Vellavert Bralor]

Rest for the wicked.​

Vellavert Bralor​

Location: Shogun, Grand Temple Courtyard​

-- Lamenting --​

Interacting with: Blatant Femdom - [member="Vlora Eldar"]

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Vellavert stood wistfully in the courtyard, not too far away from Vlora's stand and surely within the reach of her gaze, Vellavert himself had taken notice of the hybrid, something about her was comforting in a way, a woman cut from the same cloth in a world so far away from home, and in every way she was a foil. Silent, stoic, indomitable. These were traits to respect, which at least at first appraisal she possessed in bounds. It was strange, to be surrounded by other Mandalorians, for the first time not to be alone standing against the tide. It was a good strange.

So there he was, standing wistfully, his armor polished and lacking fur, a silken cape twirling and twisting down his right side, it was new, it was shiny, it was obviously intended to dress-up his armor for some kind of event, for some purpose or another. He never really felt anything in his life but a fool could tell today was for him, a very emotional one. Something wasn't right, he began to shift about nervously for some time before finally wandering off, making his way across various stalls and idly poking at their merchandise, stranges the lot fo them, but a creative kind. There was a special kind of inspiration to be found in the merchant's life until finally, he made his way to the stall he guaranteed himself to visit last, the only person here he at least knew the name of.

He didn't know really what to say, a combination of his own emotional distress and the fact that he simply didn't know who this woman was, so the old tried and true would once again be summoned forth from the bowels of memory "Hey there... Didn't know you were a merchant, makes sense. How much?" He didn't really want to buy any thermal detonators, he had more than enough already but, he needed to talk. He hated to talk but he needed to, to joke to laugh to distract himself to do something. Anything. Anything to make him forget that he's half of a person.

"I'm actually not really that familiar with them."
At least that was an irrevocable truth, they were explodey balls of magic death as far as Vellavert was concerned.
His discomfort emanated outward in a wave of anxiety and fear.

 

[Kilum Bralor]

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He wished he could be here under better circumstances.

He'd often thought about a day of being on a Mandalorian holy world. Maybe of showing the little ones what it meant to be one of their people. What it meant to him, and what it should mean to them, if they so chose. He remembered seeing them turn up on Ganath, wanting to be there, with him. They had chosen him, chosen the Resol'nare. It had made his heart swell and beat faster than any terrifying Sith or blaster bolt could have.

Now, it felt like it wasn't beating at all. It felt like it just wanted to come up through his throat and be regurgitated onto the steps of Shogun's temple. It was difficult to even think about, nevermind speak of. He'd barely said two words to his son. What could he say? How could he ever make it right? All he'd done his whole life was kill people, and all he wanted was for two people to stay alive. Fate, destiny, the Force, whatever it was, had decided to steal that from him.

All his hopes turned to ashes in his mouth. They hadn't even had the ceremony yet, and he already felt like giving up. He couldn't return to Ganath like this. Not this way. A dead man propped up by Beskar and bitterness. Eventually, Bralor stood up, his legs begging to shake as he did his best to hold them still, his fists clenching. He could do this. He had to do this.

Kilum entered the Grand Temple courtyard, and spotted him almost immediately. A sidecape bristled in the wind as it draped across his side, something that was more of a painful reminder of what today was more than anything. The veteran warrior approached Vellavert from behind as he spoke to a merchant, not speaking to him as he got close. All he did was place a hand on his shoulder and pat it a couple of times; it said a lot more than a simple reassurance, and hopefully he knew it. Kilum had never been good at explaining things, his feelings least of all.

There was a lot of them to get through.

[member="Vlora Eldar"] | [member="Vellavert Bralor"]

 

[Vlora Eldar]

Shogun, Te Veman's Temple, The Courtyard, Afternoon
Blood, Thicker Than Water | Interacting with [member="Vellavert Bralor"], [member="Kilum Bralor"] ~ When The Wolves Cry Out ~ "Distant are the calls on the winter’s wind."
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"You could not afford, Bralor."

The response at first seemed a little rude, but the smirk across bitterly white lips clarified that it wasn't. Truthfully, he was one of the only other Veman she recognized, too; but not like that mattered much. In the end, those seeking weapons would pass by her eventually, and she'd get her due.

The hybrid went to open her mouth and speak but another armoured figure stepped out, hand on Vellavert's shoulder. Orange eyes flicked from younger to, seemingly, older, "Su cuy'gar." She greeted quietly in Mando'a, uncrossing her arms and taking her boots off the countertop. Seeing those with more maturity obviously seemed to be a reminder to herself to straighten out, head tipped, "New to Veman?" She asked quickly, sharply, those near-glowing eyes boring into the newcomer's buy'ce.

Curiosity killed the lothcat, but satisfaction brought it back. If this was to be a new home, a new start, she ought to start out knowing as many vod as possible. They were, after all, meant to fight on the fields of battle together, honour eachother after death; being on rocky terms, no matter how abrasive she defaulted to, wasn't going to save anyone's souls. Fingers tapped on the stall counter swiftly, out of habit, boredom, as she waited for Vellavert's 'friend' to reply.

 

[Vellavert Bralor]

Rest for the wicked.​

Vellavert Bralor​

Location: Shogun, Grand Temple Courtyard​

-- Lamenting --​

Interacting with: Blatant Femdom - [member="Vlora Eldar"] || Daddio - [member="Kilum Bralor"]

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Vellavert's voice shook colder than the frozen wastes of Hoth as he spoke before, but now in some way the man seemed to calm, shivers of anxiety turned to pained breaths. Sure, this woman was a stranger but comfort can be found in even the smallest of distractions, he could only lightly respond to her statement of pricing in jest "Why does everyone always say that?" It was true, they did, not necessarily of absolute real cost but in the terms of sheer mark-up. Perhaps it was simply the cost of near-perpetual nonsensical galactic war? It didn't matter, there was no time to ponder such thoughts any longer.

A cold hand, fallen upon his shoulder.

He didn't need to turn around, he didn't need to look, or speak, or ask or think. He had been expecting and awaiting it, he knew in every second of every moment who it was and why they were here. He had been waiting for them after all, for his father, for their duty this day. A breath colder than the dark expanse of the void filled Vellavert's lungs as he moved to face his Father, who was undoubtedly in as much pain now as he was. The Echani scanned the man before him, returning the gesture in kind, Kilum was all he had left and damn them all if a little display of vulnerability was unwelcome. His hand not only me tKilum's shoulder but pulled the man closer into a short embrace as he spoke solemnly as both a greeting and clarification "Hello Father."

Kilum was always silent and stoic, but he was as sure as the sun would rise he needed family right now, how could he not?

 

[Kilum Bralor]

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He was never good at this.

Not being close with another, and certainly not being a father. He was trying, but it was not a talent that came to him naturally, especially with children like his own. They had their mother's stubbornness, both of them. This entire trip over, he had debated whether or not he had failed. Whether he ever had a chance to avoid failure at all. It mattered little now; he could only look to the future, the one that was currently trying to hold him. Though there was a pause, eventually Kilum's hand moved around, patting Vellavert on the back. It was hardly affection by most standards, but it was a big step up in what he usually offered.

There wasn't much he could say. There wasn't really anything he needed to - for one such as him, that small gesture said much, and he was never a big talker anyway. He pulled back from his son's embrace, squeezing his shoulder once more before his hand returned to his side, the grayish helmet turning to look towards the chalk-white merchant. "Su cuy'gar."

As odd as it seemed, the older Mandalorian often preferred basic. He thought in that language, and the imprints meant that he was generally just...more familiar with it. He had been born knowing it, so it had always stuck truer to him. It was the language of his heart, he supposed. He tried to think of how to word his reply to Vlora's question; there were many ways that he could, and he wasn't that good at weaving a story.

"In a way. Kilum." He placed a hand on his chest as he spoke his name, as though to indicate who exactly it belonged to, or what he was actually saying in the first place. "What about you? Have you been here longer?" Now that he considered it, Kilum knew very little of Shogun. He had barely heard of it before, and was never taught of it when he was being shown how to be a Mandalorian, how to live the way he did now. Perhaps he had a lot more to learn.

[member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Vlora Eldar"]