Public ‘Vibe Writing’ : Aura Farming and Ego Stroking

[Braze]

​

Braze had settled along the rise of one of Dantooine’s grassy hills, where the tall grasses leaned soft into a rolling sea beneath the night sky. Night had spread across the world like a bowl of black velvet strewn with diamonds.

The pale-haired half Echani lay back in the cradle of the slope, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting loose across his chest. The temperatures were dropping, and a brisk chill was in the air. His jade-green gaze was turned upward, watching the slow roll of clouds overhead lazily make their path along the skyscape.

 

[Sevrin]

The old world still kept its dead buried beneath root and soil, beneath wind-worn stone and the long memory of places the Jedi had once touched. There were stories here still, half-swallowed by time; ruins picked clean, vaults broken open, and yet… Never empty. Enough lingered in the bones of the land to draw those willing to walk the dark seeking what scraps remained.

Sevrin prowled through the brush, one hand loose at his side while the other brushed near the stolen hilt he carried.

He had been following the faint residue of old Force-work, that might lead to a forgotten chamber, a hidden cache… or …perhaps another holocron left to gather dust in the dark.

Then something else touched his senses…

Sevrin slowed at once, head turning slightly as his attention shifted from the cold pull of relic-hunting toward something brighter in the Force. When he found the source of it across the slope ahead a smirk etched it’s self on to his visage.

There.

Braze lay along the rise of the hill as if the night had opened itself just to hold him there, pale hair catching moonlight, body at ease in the cradle of the grass.

Sevrin stood still a moment and watched the other for a small time.

The search for Holocrons, and other buried things… they could wait. This was far more interesting.

He gathered himself inward, masking the brush of his presence until it drew tight and silent, then began to move. He circled instead, tracing the shape of the hill with measured steps, letting the grasses hide the line of his approach while he closed the distance a little at a time. The night covered him well and the wind did the rest.

By the time Sevrin reached the rise, he was near enough for his shadow to spill over the pale-haired figure below.

The stolen saber came free into his hand as a sharp hiss split the hush as the blade sprang to life, its crimson light casting hard color across the dark while he angled its humming edge near Braze’s throat, close enough to threaten death.

Looking down at him, Sevrin smiled.
“Caught you.”

 

[Braze]

​

"Have you~?" Braze asked, one snowy white brow quirking as he looked up. He did not appear troubled by the red saber shoved in his face, so close he could feel the plasma radiating from the tip angled at his throat.

"Mm… and what exactly do you think you've won?" His expression barely shifted, though an irksome, almost knowing smugness touched the corners of his mouth.

"I had noticed something prowling the hill a while ago… I was curious whether you'd actually come closer."
He lifted a hand to the very tip of the blade, employing Tutaminis as he sought to press it gently away from his throat. "If you wanted my attention, you could have asked."

 

[Sevrin]

Sevrin’s expression soured at the sight of the smaller male guiding his blade aside with nothing more than a touch. How could he lay a hand against hot plasma like that? It was not an ability Sevrin recognized, and that unfamiliarity pulled him back a sudden step, drawing the blade up with him. The saber’s red glow dragged sharp across his features as he stared at Braze’s hand for a little too long, suspicion and sharpened curiosity settling where smug satisfaction had been moments before.

His jaw tightened. He did not like being surprised, least of all not when he had come in expecting control of the scene to rest neatly in his grasp. The stolen hilt remained firm in his hand, though his posture had changed now; less leisurely, more guarded, as though Braze had ceased being a pretty interruption and become something worth measuring properly.

“Well…” he said at last, voice lower now and edged with a different sort of interest. “That was new.”

 

[Braze]

​

Braze drew his knees toward his chest suddenly and hauled his feet back sharply over himself, letting the hillside catch the motion. He rolled through it in one quick sweep along the line of one shoulder, then came up again on his own two feet, balanced and ready, with bare hands drawn into a guard as he faced the taller, armed opponent.

“Oh? Was that not how you expected this to go? You seemed far more confident a moment ago. If you mean to test me, at least commit to it… come on, then; you’ve got the blade.”

 

[Sevrin]

Sevrin’s expression tightened, annoyance cutting across it before he buried it beneath a colder kind of focus. He had seen the bait for what it was… the smug little challenge, the lifted chin, the contemptuous smirk, the invitation to rush in foolishly and prove Braze right. He did not give in to the Jedi’s taunts, nor to the urge to retaliate blindly. Still, it got under his skin all the same. He liked control; all the more when it sat neatly in his grasp. Braze had spoiled that with one strange touch and far too much confidence for a lone, stargazing runt to have.

The stolen hilt shifted in his hand as he settled properly now, no longer lounging in the image of threat, but stepping into something more deliberate. Cautious now, though not deterred. If Braze was more dangerous than he had first appeared, then Sevrin would have to learn how.

Suddenly he pressed forward with sharper, murderous intent, testing Braze and forcing movement, meaning to see whether that pretty little trick would hold beneath further pressure.

 

[Braze]

​

Braze remained serene despite the sharp and sudden advance. The smaller warrior moved with the hill, giving only the space he chose to give, boots gliding through the tall grass as the slope broke upward, forcing Sevrin to follow him through angles rather than straight pursuit. In doing so, he conveniently claimed the high ground for himself. Pale hair caught silver where the moonlight fell.

The look on his face had changed now. The earlier smugness had all but vanished, yet something brighter, more genuine, had settled in its place: enjoyment. Sevrin’s focus had stripped the easy swagger from the encounter at last and, oddly, Braze seemed almost pleased by that. He slipped past the pressure and turned with it, watching in return and studying the shape of the taller man’s intent as carefully as Sevrin meant to study him.

 

[Sevrin]

Sevrin caught sight of the shift as it happened. The almost offensive hint of enjoyment that had settled across Braze's face, now that the exchange had turned honest, irked him. His own expression hardened into something fiercer as he continued to pursue the annoying little runt with a series of sharper attacks.

He paused when he saw Braze take the higher ground. Rather than chase the Jedi farther uphill, he adjusted, angling off with a cleaner line of approach, red blade humming low as he cut across the slope to spoil the easier use of the terrain.

Fire licked through the drier grass where the saber passed; the ground beneath its path softened and ran molten pouring down the hill as firelight flooded the hilltop in a bright blaze.

 

[Braze]

​

Braze stumbled back half a step, his eyes widening as sudden light tore across the hillside. He threw his arms up to shield his face from the inferno that surged to life in the night wind, heat washing over him in a violent rush. His footing shifted at once into a small Ataru-style backward leap, carrying him just clear of the furious line of Sevrin's aggressive advance.

He landed near the wood line that crowned the crest of the slope, boots striking earth as firelight spilled wild and bright across the hilltop. Behind him, dark trunks stood in uneven ranks; before him, the flames climbed higher, feeding on dry grass and racing with the wind…

The look on Braze's face changed then. The earlier poise gave way to troubled worry, as he watched the hillside come alive with the wrong kind of motion. Wildlife broke from the grass in violent bursts, small bodies scattering through the glow, while several birds tore suddenly into the sky, their wings beating hard against the firelit hillscape.


"Was your pride worth setting the whole hillside ablaze?"