21 September 2017 @ 07:24 pm
The first time Baze attempted a serious whittling project, he went at it recklessly.

It only took five minutes before the knife blade slipped from the wood and opened a gash in his thumb. He stubbornly continued carving, but ended up getting blood all over the balsa wood. Another ten minutes passed before the blade skipped off a knot and sliced his index finger. More blood. More carving. At that point, the wood was slippery, so he had to stop.

He applied bandages to his fingers and waited a day before trying again. But try again he did, and learned how to properly protect himself with a Bar-provided thumb pad for his blade hand.

And he learned more than that. He learned that cuts made with the grain will peel away smoothly; cuts made against the grain will give resistance and eventually split. He learned the pull stroke, the push stroke, and straight-away rough cutting. He learned to whittle slowly, to use the strokes as a meditative practice.

Though his carved fish and eggs and demon bunnies are still crude, he thinks he can whittle in his sleep.

Today he's leaning against the bar, holding a block of balsa wood in his left hand and his pocket knife in his right, with the blade facing towards him. He braces the thumb of his right hand against the wood, and squeezes his fingers in order to draw the blade towards his thumb. His strokes are short and controlled.

He's getting wood shavings everywhere. Someone might want to tell him to clean up.

(OOC: Chirrut may pop into any and all threads!)
14 September 2017 @ 09:20 pm
Cassian's been taking the medicine that Barry got for him, the day one and trying to work. Curled up on the couch with a datapad along with tea and soup has worked fairly well. Though he's been cold, he's stopped wearing his jacket, it catches the glitter too quickly. Instead he's under a blanket that's striped with the colors of a sunset.

His datapad is on his chest as he's been doing research into the history of the Empire, the number of failed assassinations for Palapatine makes for hard reading. At some point later in the day, he falls asleep, he would never think of doing this if he were healthy but this cold is draining.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor, glittersnot
OOC: Catch him asleep or awake
12 September 2017 @ 04:12 pm
Chirrut spends hours tending the tea plants today, replanting groupings of three or four into individual plants, arranging and re-arranging the pots to best find the warmth (and supposedly light) of the sun, making sure the watering system would cover the new arrangement of plants... there was a lot to do. It is peaceable work and the time flies by.

Baze isn't in his brewery when Chirrut is done, so he meanders upstairs to get cleaned up. While he cannot see muddy fingerprints, he has it on good authority that they're highly annoying.

The pain catches him once he's inside. Sudden loss, sharp and aching as a stab through the chest turns any scream into a shocked breath of air, almost silent in its agony.


That sense of knowing where Baze is, that he's alright... it's gone. He's gone.

Chirrut isn't sure how long he spends on his knees, frozen in that moment, too stunned to figure out what comes next. He can only barely remember a time Baze wasn't by his side, not too far away. He's still not, Chirrut knows in his head, but his heart doesn't want to listen. His heart is too busy screaming.

Finally he picks himself up, dusting himself off by habit. Downstairs, he should head downstairs, ask Bar, she'd... well, she'd have the best chance of knowing. Then maybe X, if he doesn't find his answer. Then... Too much, that's enough of a plan. He turns back to the door, but... no.

Muddy fingerprints are annoying. He's been told this.

Washing his hands doesn't take long. There's... there's no rush now.

When Chirrut gets to the Bar, he is greeted with a note, written on paper that would have been painfully precious in NiJedha. To anyone watching, his expression does not change as he reads it over and over again, tracing the raised ink with gentle fingers.

This? Baze died for this? So senseless. Baze deserved more.

Chirrut has a quiet word with the Bar, and is rewarded with a stack of books and a copy of his reader, which he takes to one of the chairs by the fire, a rat following behind with a cup of tea. Not Sapir - a surprise tea. For Baze. The books are on brewing beer and moonshine, a project he's wholly unsuited for, but he intends to master.
09 September 2017 @ 12:17 pm
Tea. Baze needs tea.

The morning started with a killer headache and a tickle in his throat. Now he's cold, and can't quite seem to get warm--even after working up a sweat doing morning forms.

Because, let's face it, a little illness never stopped Baze Malbus.

He huddles around a cup of honey lemon ginger tea at the bar, sipping it resentfully. He'll beat this. He always has.

Baze thinks that, until he sneezes into his arm. Purple glitter explodes from his nose and mouth, and he stares at the smear of glittersnot on his sleeve, wide eyed.

"What the kriff?" he says, and sneezes again. This time, the glitter is orange.

Who knew that the dead could even get sick?

(OOC: Baze is currently infected with the Glittersnot illness! Feel free to contract it from him or from anyone who runs into him. Chirrut will NOT be hopping into threads.)
06 September 2017 @ 02:53 pm
It had to be done - it seems that in this case, the rumors that hair continues to grow after death are very true.

Either Baze got tired of listening to Chirrut huff about the untidiness of his hair, or Chirrut got tired of listening to Baze tease about how he'd soon be able to wear a ponytail, but in the end the result is the same. Chirrut is sitting cross-legged on a chair in the middle of the bar, with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, while Baze wields a wickedly sharp pair of scissors to bring the increasingly unruly (and currently decidedly damp) mop of hair on Chirrut's head under control once more. Chirrut keeps his hands busy by repairing a split seam in one of his robes, carefully mending the damage done in one of their sparring matches.

"If you twitch like that again I'm not going to continue. I almost took your ear off!" Baze grouses, straightening Chirrut's head to his liking.

"The Force will protect me." Chirrut replies with a mock-serenity that does almost nothing to hide the laughter underneath.

(Tinytag: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus)
02 September 2017 @ 08:56 pm
Ibani stalks into Milliways in something of an irritable temper, dressed in her armor, red lightsaber still lit.

Tattoine is blazing hot and dry enough to suck the life from your bones, and the karking sand is somehow finding minute gaps in her armor and then sticking around to irritate her. And then a group of thugs had attempted to mug her and Khem Val in the spaceport.

That had been a novel experience for all of three seconds, then merely irritating as she was forced to kill them. "I've been planetside for less than a half hour and Tattooine has already lived up to its reputation as a blazing hot, crime-ridden, hell-hole full of sand."
02 September 2017 @ 01:18 am
After the party, Cassian felt restless and went back on base to get some mending to do. It has to be done and its the kind of chore that he can do and look over data. He's set himself up at a table to repair a shirt and the sleeve of one of his jackets, his stitches are neat, not pretty but they don't need to be.

Also on the table is a datapad and he's reading through records, mainly histories as he's trying to fill in the holes and know questions to ask his archivist connection. Later he watches an older holovid he found in the library that he remembers from when he was younger, the conversation with Jay about James Bond reminded him of it. There's a brave young man who pulls himself up from obscurity with brave piloting and lots of luck, in the episode that Cassian's watching, he's trying to be smart at a party with senators and the girl he likes. He did like the martini but ended up ordering a caf with some whiskey in it.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor
20 August 2017 @ 01:34 pm
Baze is excited. He's been brewing beer for weeks in his upstairs workshop--refurbished after that unfortunate explosion--and he's ready. He enlists Chirrut to carry the bottles of stout and hard apple cider and red ale and--Baze's favorite--moonshine downstairs to the bar.

"... Such a complainer!" Baze says over his shoulder to Chirrut. They're halfway down the stairs with their second box of pre-chilled alcohol each. "Had I known how old and decrepit you were, I wouldn't have asked you to help."

"Next time, Malbus, I am making sure you get smaller bottles from Bar. You could store a week's worth of water in these and have space left over!"

Baze laughs, and carts their prizes to the counter. He quickly sets up what he and Chirrut need for their bartending shift--grated tang bark, boiling water, and a written menu--and then pats Bar, sending her to bed. The board reads:

Happy Hour with Baze Malbus and Chirrut Imwe
Dark Side
Light Side
Emperor's Blood

Hot chocolate with tang bark
Peppermint tea

All proceeds to go to the Joe Manco fund for Bound patrons

(OOC: This is "normal" Baze and Chirrut! No AU pups, please!)
17 August 2017 @ 06:39 pm
Sooner or later, everyone gets sick.

"Chirrut doesn't often ask things of the Force, but as the fall edges its way into winter, he has been asking for one thing daily. He prays that this year, the winds don't come." (Warning for mention of past child harm.)

Baze and Chirrut have their first birthday after becoming Dads!

Ibani is finally, FINALLY, cleared for sparring much to the delight of her and her Dads!

How do you keep your Force sensitive daughter from being snatched up by visiting Jedi as a Padawan? You arrange for her to be somewhere else while the Temple has 'visitors'! Ibani embarks on her first ever field trip. Unfortunately, even in another time she's a magnet for trouble and weirdness. (Warning in the second link for a very vague spoiler for Ibani's future canon.)
16 August 2017 @ 06:44 pm
In one version of events, the young child Ibani stood in Milliways with a group of heroes ready to go back to her world and help free them all when something went wrong. Somehow, someway, she ended up on the other side of the Door with the door to Milliways shut and refusing to open again.

In another version of events, she grew to miss her mother so much she went back through the Door of her own free will, and was also unable to come back.

Either way, the years passed, her mother was murdered, and Ibani was taken for training as a Sith. For her, it's been 6 years since the last time she was in Milliways.

Which is why she's not expecting Milliways when she enters this time, dressed in the black robes of a Sith acolyte. She has a pyramidal holocron in her left hand and a Sith warblade in her right, blood still on the blade.

For a moment, just a moment, her eyes turn yellow with the Dark side as her anger boils. How dare this place turn up NOW, after she's already lost so much? After she's been forged into a weapon, after there's so much blood on her hands!

But she has better control now at 14 than she had at 8, so she takes a deep breath and puts the anger aside for a time when it will be useful.
14 August 2017 @ 09:53 pm
The shaking of the ground that happens under an eighteen-ton animal landing is formidable: it's noticeable even to those of us used to it, and the animals that cause it. Noriko, case in point, is very used to feeling incredibly tiny in comparison to her dragon, who is more than capable of carrying her in one taloned hand. Which is what he's doing, until he sets her down quite gently. He lowers his huge draconic head and Noriko leans herself fully against it, stroking the scaly, bone-spurred hide. Noriko might be overlooked against the massive riot of color that is the dragon: he's variegated blue in color, shading to orange along the length of his impressive wings, barred with black and white at the edges.

"Aki, look, this is where I was telling you about. It looks like Laggan, doesn't it? Short of the beach. Not sure how that got there."

Akihiko seems far more interested in protecting the human leaning against him than in exploring the outdoors--or contemplating letting her into the building he's certainly not fitting into--but Noriko will drag him around to it eventually, making him at least look around the place. Already she's considering wading into the lake once she gets out of her boots and stockings.

Feel free to stare! They do make quite a picture.
12 August 2017 @ 11:23 pm
The front door opens, letting the deep song of the temple bells through as they toll the hour. Soon after, it allows in two older men, both in the heavy robes of the Guardians of the Whills. Chirrut is giggling as he weaves through the door, laughing at the tales of the initiate class Baze had been teaching.

"You did this on purpose," Baze mock-grumbles when the warmer air of the bar alerts him to their change of venue. "I shouldn't have told you we were out of sapir."

"My friend, that's not a feat even a Jedi could master. But I will take advantage of the opportunity."

The two Jedhans--one a Guardian and the other a Master--living and breathing and thoroughly content with their lot, make their way towards the counter. Bar materializes two earthenware cups of tea for them, so they settle in on the stools.

(OOC: Chirrut and Baze are coming in from a universe where the Empire does not exist. The Temple of the Kyber still stands, and Jedha is a thriving tourism hub.)
12 August 2017 @ 09:41 pm
Cassian opens the door with a sigh, Eliot's found a good team, they just take up space. Behind him someone calls, "But how does he work, man?"

He closes the door and starts to the counter, stretching his shoulders and rubbing his arm which is still bandaged under his jacket.

In Milliways, there won't be anyone who knows him well enough to point out that he's lonely and maybe he'll see Ibani again and find out if she's doing better. He orders a beer before going to sit on a couch where he can stretch out his legs and soon is watching Tentacles of our Waves.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor, AU Week
OOC: Write up is here. He's loud and I love AU week, both EPs open until they scroll.
12 August 2017 @ 10:56 am
In one version of events, the slave child Ibani met a version of Baze Malbus and Chirrut Imwe where the Empire never came to power.

The next morning, the two Guardians learn a little more about her situation and a promise is made.

The trip to free Ibani's mother.....does not go as planned. (Warning for harm to children, children killing people, and brief gore.)

Once Ibani has fallen asleep after the ill fated rescue, Chirrut and Baze deal with the emotional fallout.

Then, then it's time for them to take Ibani home
Ibani shivers against one of the walls of Milliways, her body wracked with fever and hunger both. She hadn't meant to end up here, didn't know this was a place that existed, but it's shown up at just the right time.

She's somewhere between seven and ten, clothed in fabric with far too many holes in it, and wearing a slave shock collar around her neck. Her bones stand out too sharply against her skin and her eyes are fever bright and darting around the room.

She knows she must have food, must have fuel to fight the sickness attacking her body. Unconsciously, the Force reacts to her desires, resulting in a kind of fitful grasping like a drowning person clawing onto whatever they can to stay afloat.

Maybe, maybe if she gets close enough to one of the tables she can steal some food without anyone noticing. Yes, yes that's a good plan.
01 August 2017 @ 03:31 pm
Grapes. Pomegranates. Raspberries. Pineapples. Papayas. Pears. Strawberries... Not to mention the cheeses, chocolate, and glasses of wine.

The two infamous Jedhan residents of the bar lounge at a table today, enjoying a selection of fresh fruits--which were never available to them in life. Baze's favorite so far is the watermelon. It's just so juicy and sweet, and he's always preferred the color red.

Chirrut is currently trying to catch grapes in his mouth that Baze lobs at him. Most ping off his nose or forehead.

"Your aim is terrible." Chirrut laughs as another one of the delectable little fruits bounces off his cheekbone.

"Shut up, brat," Baze grumbles, pitching a handful at his friend's face.

They can be talked into sharing.

(OOC: Warnings for wholly inappropriate shenanigans involving discussions of Chirrut's stick in the Baze-Chirrut thread, due to Bonnie's one-year-old's mistake in speech.)
28 July 2017 @ 09:33 pm
(OOM: After Chirrut breaks his ankle during a sparring match with Ganymede, Baze forces him to stay still for two days. Thankfully, Ibani arrives to provide healing and a distraction.)
26 July 2017 @ 10:15 pm
OOMish: After a few rounds at the firing range, Cassian and Ibani explore the library and are reminded of the long reach of the Sith and their Empire.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor, contains mentions of the death and destruction that defines Sith and the Empire.
26 July 2017 @ 12:58 pm
Chirrut knows this feeling. The world becomes heavy and close and leaden.  Sounds fall flat, and there's a sense that something is about to break, held just out of reach. Back home, this feeling would be a cause for concern and preparation - water was both precious and dangerous on Jedha. With the ground too desiccated to absorb any rainfall, it would turn into murdering floods with barely any provocation.

But this isn't Jedha.

Baze knows this feeling, too. And he knows that thunderstorms have always been a bane to his friend with superior hearing. They stand together on the porch outside, waiting for the clouds to shatter completely.

The rain does not disappoint. It pours down, soaking the green, growing earth. Baze holds out a hand. "It's warm," he says, awe flooding his voice. "Chirrut, it's warm."

Chirrut, as always, follows Baze's lead, thrusting his hand out into the downpour. Delighted laughter fills the small space of the porch. It's not just warm, it is generous, fat drops splattering over his hand. This is rain that is glad, not the bitter driving creature that would storm up from Jedha's vast, barren plains.  

Since Chirrut is following Baze's lead today, he drags his friend out into the wet. They raise their hands, shake their hips, and throw their heads back to capture raindrops in their laughing mouths.