(no subject)

[iprotectyou]

Three cases of moonshine. That's what Wilford ordered. Three cases of twenty-four liters each, and at twenty bucks a liter, that comes to $1440. Not too shabby. That will go a long way towards paying rent on his two workshops--for beer brewing and fireworks making--and Chirrut's tea room. Distilling has taken a couple of months, but Baze feels the job was absolutely worth the time and effort it took.

Carting the seventy-two one-liter mason jars--all labeled with "Baze's Bacta"--down from the distillery workshop takes a dolly and a couple of trips. Baze hefts the cases onto the bar top, grunting. He leaves a bill of sale and his business cards for Wilford.

Then he posts a business card on the bulletin board, as well as a note: Come check out the new training hall! In the Staff Hallway, near the gym.

Baze has been keeping a secret from Chirrut. It's not a bad secret--nothing that will cause him harm--and is actually fairly good, as far as secrets go.

Baze has been preparing a set of rooms. Well, Bar prepared the space, all Baze had to do was ask. He heads upstairs to meet Chirrut, and eventually leads him to the Staff Hallway by the elbow, gently teasing him about his impatience. Baze thought about asking him to wear a blindfold, for effect, but rejected that suggestion out of hand. Baze has his Security badge attached to his hip, proud that he's now a part-time member of the team.

"How much farther, Malbus?" Chirrut says, smiling at him despite being led around.

"We're here," Baze says, releasing Chirrut to open the door. Brown stone surrounds a large, open space perfumed with herbs seemingly burning somewhere outside the room. Light filters in from large windows and shines from electric torches built to mimic natural lighting. The floor is soft and spongy, covered in grey training mats. Weapon racks--some filled with staves and some without--line the walls. The ceiling is high, and all that's missing is the smell of clean sweat and the sound of wood cracking against wood.

It's their training hall, straight from the temple, meant to take the place of Baze and Chirrut's outside sparring circle in the winter months. Baze intends the hall to be open to the public, to fill the room with people looking for an honest fight.

(OOC: Catch Baze at the bar alone, or both of them in the new training hall!)

Comments

[cottoncandypink]

A few hours later, when Wilford comes in for lunch and to get away from the hell that is trying to run a studio like a rapidly sinking ship, he gets the cases and the bill.

He mulls it over for a few moments while making sure that everything looks good, and will do the job he intends it to do. Satisfied, he has a rat go fetch a cart so he can take this stuff home and leaves an even $2,000 for Baze, assuming they have tips in space and that Baze will understand that he's not meant to give change.

Once he's done counting out the cash, the rat returns, and Wilford loads up the moonshine to take it back to his dressing room.

[iprotectyou]

Baze, having worn himself out sparring with Chirrut, returned to the main bar for dinner. He polishes off a plate of chicken Alfredo while watching Wilford inspect the moonshine, and heads over to him when he starts loading the jars on the cart.

"I trust everything is to your satisfaction?" Baze says, grinning.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford looks up from his work. "We'll know after the party," he says, hopeful. "This isn't going to kill anybody, is it?"

He's tried your moonshine, Baze. He knows what it was like in its developmental phases.

[iprotectyou]

"Not that I know of," Baze says, reaching out to pat one of the jars of moonshine.

"And if it kills you, you'll at least come back."

[cottoncandypink]

"It's not me I'm worried about. It's the dozen other bozos that'll be there."

Many of them extremely squishy, from the way Jim makes it sound.

[iprotectyou]

"Oh, right, the people from here," Baze says, scratching his beard.

"Well, as long as they don't drink more than their livers can handle at any given time during the night... You're providing food, right?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Oh, yeah," Wilford says, not realising how literally this is going to be taken. "I'm not stupid. But I don't want to be boring either."

[arkadia]

Eden can't get up into the rafters today, so he meanders over to Baze on foot, settling next to him at the bar.

His jacket is draped over his shoulders, and the skin along his knuckles seems to have been replaced with a streak of silvery-white crystal.

"Hey, did you see the new patron? He was cool. Also, dead, now," Eden chirps. "Don't know where the body went though."

[iprotectyou]

"New patron? What? What happened to your hand?" Baze says, eyes widening as he looks Eden over.

"What new patron? Who died?"

[arkadia]

"I didn't get his name, but it's okay! He died how he lived. Angry. And on fire. And tall."

Eden will always remember you, Angry On Fire Person!

"My hand got burned, that's all. It'll have healed in, like. A while. I don't know how long it takes burns to heal."

[iprotectyou]

"That wasn't a patron, Eden," Baze says, offering a hand to him, so Baze can inspect this crystal for himself.

"That was a monster. I saw you fight him. Good job."

[arkadia]

"Monsters are patrons too," Eden said, holding out his hand. "S'just that he preferred rage over milkshakes."

The crystal over his knuckles is seamlessly interwoven with his skin, such that it seems that the flesh was just spontaneously transmuted into it.

[iprotectyou]

"I... hadn't thought of it like that," Baze says, cocking his head to the side. He gently takes Eden's hand into his own, running his fingers over the grown crystal.

"Why do you grow crystal instead of, I don't know, bleeding?"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut freezes three steps in. He... knows those echos.

The smell is wrong, but... not entirely incorrect.

"Baze?" His voice sounds faintly unsteady to his own ears. He knows what he wants to call it, but... to say it, and be wrong, might do more damage to his heart than he has the strength to withstand.

[iprotectyou]

Baze leans on his friend. No, kriff that, Baze picks him up and swings him around, dragging him onto the mats. Baze sets him down on the spongy material, so he can feel for himself where they are.

"It's the hall, Chirrut!" Baze says, entirely too gleeful. He sobers, and takes Chirrut's hands, though Baze is still bouncing a little on the mat.

"Bar made us the training hall."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut's thoughts hum like a swarm of bees, difficult to track other than the resounding chorus of being home. It steals his words, and with that lack he tightens his grip on Baze's hands in return.

And then sweeps an ankle behind Baze's feet and shoves back, hard.

It's traditional.

Or something.

[iprotectyou]

Baze falls flat on his ass. He cracks up, throwing his head back and fully giving into his amusement. He's just so glad. He hooks his toes behind Chirrut's kneecap and jerks, trying to unseat him.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut lets himself fall, not fighting the nudge, and lands heavily on Baze.

And casually taps Baze's face with his elbow, laughing.

The mats are slightly wrong as well, but they're new - he never knew them when they weren't carrying the collective sweat and blood of generations, despite repeated cleanings.

[iprotectyou]

Baze is also giggling. He wraps his arms around his friend and nuzzles his cheek with Baze's nose.

"No more sparring in the bitter cold of winter," Baze says, grinning.

"We can visit our own temple rooms whenever we want."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi lingers in the bar, waiting to talk to Baze alone.

He comes over to where Baze is sitting. "Baze, can I buy you some tea?"

[iprotectyou]

Baze turns his head to face the pilot. If he's not here to apologize, Baze doesn't want to hear it. But tea is a good start.

"If you like," he says, gruffly. He almost folds his arms, by dint of habit, but stops himself just in time.

[imthepilot]

Bodhi orders a pot of Hot Date Chai, rocking the pot to help it seep. It has a sweet, spicy smell that suita the cold weather.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted the other day." he says quietly, frowning. "I was upset and out of line."

[iprotectyou]

Oh! Well, that's a surprise. After Baze left Bodhi in the cells, the Guardian had a good, long cry on Chirrut's shoulders. Baze swore to himself those would be the last tears he cried for the pilot.

"I forgive you, Bodhi," Baze says, tearing his gaze away from the hypnotic rocking of the teapot to look at him.

"Thank you for apologizing."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi's smile is swift and surprised, not sure that Baze would forgive him so easily. And very happy that Baze has. "And thank you for telling Galen. I know that most have been hell for you but I really appreciate it."

He pours the tea, releasing the sweet scent of dried fruit and chai.

[iprotectyou]

"You're welcome. I couldn't leave you to rot alone in there," Baze says, wrapping his fingers around his teacup and taking a gulp. Mmm.

His words are sort of a lie. In the mood Baze was in, he certainly could have left Bodhi by himself, but tbe Guardian would have felt inordinately guilty and rectified his situation.