When they were kids, Makai took the lead in talking for Myra when she was going through her trauma-induced muteness. It had been difficult to communicate without speaking, and Makai certainly got a few things wrong in translation. Still, eventually, the younger Dashiell found a methodology of gestures and nonstop talking to get to the root of the matter. Part of that process was how he would convey reassurance either with words or the innocent pats or hugs the rather enthusiastic Dashiell had been around his friend, much like the slow, comforting rub the pads of his fingers took now when they slid from her shoulder to her nape. It was his method of telling her not to worry that it was okay.
When Myra found her voice, she did not come with a filter. Unlike her adoptive mother - and often encouraged to do so - As Myra grew into her preteens, the girl tended to flare up and speak her mind, often without filter or consideration. Ironically, this led to more fights and miscommunication between Makai and Myra than when she was mute. More often than not, a joke or a passing commentary on Makai's behalf would set Myra off, and due to his trauma with his mother, often led to the younger Dashiell blanking out, leading Myra to believe he was ignoring her or didn't care.
This all culminated in that terrible set of circumstances back on Oulanne. The crashing storm, miscommunication, Myra's fiery words, and Makai's walking off all resulted in the pair stubbornly not interacting for years. In the wake of Makai's presence, Myra threw herself into becoming the Arceneau-Kuhn heiress. With that came the knowledge that, unlike her mother, who had decades of experience maneuvering conversation, Myra needed additional help not just due to her brashness but because of the ongoing trauma of her agoraphobia and panic and anxiety attacks.
Casteel was the perfect foil for such interactions, becoming her Companion and allowing her the practice to navigate the battlefield that was high Core World society. He was there to fall back upon when needed, masterfully guiding the conversation and ensuring that Myra would not cross the line that would pass propriety. It had been a skill that she desperately tried to work on since her debut at sixteen.
Yet, as the four gossiping magpies continued their bashing of the Dashiell's, their family, and Makai, Myra couldn't help but start seeing red. Swallowing another drink from her lemonade, the young woman held that glass with a white knuckle grip. With the heat of the day and how she was drinking that lemonade to keep her mouth occupied, it wouldn't be long before its strength would enact its sway. In the meantime, it was the reassuring squeeze of Makai's hand when it drifted back to her shoulder that allowed Myra a few seconds to collect herself.
Just breathe, Myra told herself, reminding her of what her mama once said: Don't let your mouth run like a boarding house refresher. It was better to be thought of as a fool and remain silent than to speak and remove all doubt. The tight grip on her glass relaxed, and she took a breath, attempting to appear calm.
With ongoing amusement, the corner of Makai's mouth curved up, giving the perfect impression of confident cool-headedness, swinging his proverbial gravball bat to redirect the question back to the chittering hens. "Who should Myra date then if not me?"
He flashed that perfect little boy smile that exemplified the eye candy Dashiell men were known to be, bringing attention to his gorgeous arctic eyes and pleasing tan, scales, and all. Sure, perhaps they were considered new money and the salvage industry uncouth, but Makai's conversational serve brought to the fore again that the Dashiells had some redeeming qualities.
It certainly had Rose, Sophia, and especially Blanche all riled up again, but Dorothy's no-nonsense study over her tall glass of lemonade said she wasn't impressed.
"Oh, there isn't anything wrong with young love!" Blanche insisted, the widowed Zelteon patting Makai's knee. Myra felt her eyebrow twitch as the action brought attention to how short Makai's swim trunks were. There had to be at least seventeen centimeters of toned, tanned thigh exposed - wait, was that a patch of scales?!
"I highly encourage spreading your wings before settling down, especially with someone as handsome as yourself!” She added towards Makai while Dorothy snorted.
"A family that can contribute and formulate robust ties through the bonds of marriage. An heir or heiress of a considerable measure with a legacy of their own. The Arceaneau Kuhn name cannot be brushed to the sidelines. You'll need a partner to handle such a dynasty's pressure and responsibilities." The Chandrilan continued, clarifying her point, adding, "Take Casteel Mer'taal, your Companion. He would be favorable had he had an inheritance and sway like his older brother, perhaps if he made a name for himself independently. Or the San-Soran heir from Naboo. Neutral prospects without ties to any of the major galactic players."
Myra immediately flushed at the mention of Casteel. Sophia, however, took the moment to add with glee, "Oh, of course! The Mer'taals from Anaxes! Hasn't Casteel served as her escort for a number of years?"
"Since her debut," Dorothy answered, giving Myra no chance to interject.
"Right! Such a beautiful event, and oh, the holos did no justice to your dress!" Rose exclaimed, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
"Now that's a man that would make any woman look twice! Tall, blonde, blue eyes. Dances like a dream and his voice… "Blanche gave a shiver of delight," like a tall glass of lemonade on a hot summer night on Zeltros!"
The incredulous widening of Myra's eyes would continue to grow.
How did they even know all of this? Clearly, Myra underestimated affluent ladies' free time, with an uncanny ability to scour the tabloids and news for information and gossip. Not to mention a memory as long as a Bantha.
