Private A Godless Endeavor

[Loske Treicolt]

The situation, as inconvenient as Frank had been, was funny. She tittered at both of their expense.Like treading a riptide before getting pulled under without control - Frank was the unwanted coast guard. She huffed slightly at Cedric’s question, and bit down on her lip to prevent speaking out too quickly and incorrectly. Despite their ethereal link being swollen and ablaze with mutual emotions, it didn’t read minds.

Did she still want to go to the festival?

What did she want? She waaanted to get some space from Frank and the three little Anari, and protect this perfect little moment. Bundle it up with a bow. There was a fret now though, that if she ignored the intent and just kept them in the steamy hull of S.S.Bruno it would be too much an attempt to try and cultivate what had interrupted and it would feel unnatural and forced. And there was an audience. And the festival did only happen once a year. Que sera sera and all that.

Ah feth decision making was the worst! Especially when her cognitive load was so unbalanced.

May as well be herself and talk through it.

“I..don’t..but I also do?” With his hands on hers, he probably felt similarly. Her heart was still thumping, but it was slowly waning back to its regular pace. “I think I’m obsessed with kissing you, so we should probably go.” She took this time to gather herself somewhat, and tuck some of her damp hair behind her ears, although she took zero initiative to put decisive space between them again. Which was the opposite of a let’s-get-going motive. "It's only once a year, after all. Coincidence has been fortunate to us thus far."

 

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It was the answer he’d expected, and probably the right one, but damn did Cedric not care for it. Nonetheless he acquired, cracking a pleased little grin as he leaned in to peck her on the lips one last time, after the kissing comment of course, before pulling away.


“I suppose we’d be missing out on something worthwhile if we just stayed here, he admitted, opting to frame the situation from a cultural perspective rather than one of an honest sort. Jedi justifications and all that. “Frank can watch the babies. I think he’ll make for a good nanny,” he added, snickering as he dealt his punishment onto the droid for its interruption.

“The Imperium can wait another day,” he added as he stepped toward the entrance of the ship. “And as much as I like you without them, you should probably put on some clothes. Don’t want Chandrila’s male population to crash their speeders anytime they drive by.”

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Well. Trading one worthwhile for another, really.

The comment was fair. She quickly shimmied back into her garments, though they weren't much cleaner than when they'd started. She also took the time to replace her stained bandages with the ones she'd meant to minutes ago. The bacta Frank had sprayed helped seal the wound, and it was coming along nicely. It was more like a reminder-tape job for herself, so she'd get her blood properly worked on when they had the resources available.

Meanwhile, Frank was sour about the nanny comment. His protocols far exceeded observational roles. He also was dairypoor.

"We're at an imbalanced juncture." Loske observed, yanking her boot on while hopping forward and depressing one of the seals that would cue the ship's ramp to snake out from the body. With both feet back on the ground, she stood a little straighter and down the ramp. "The first time we met, I ended up out of my socks." And P Placeholder 0128 'd healed some pretty nasty burns, thanks to Arguash. "Then there's" she gestured backward, as if that said enough.

"I think you owe me." Her flirtatious streak hadn't entirely ebbed. "How are the Graysons at paying their debts?"

 

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"We always pay on time."

---

The journey to the festival of waters was a relatively short one. The shuttle had been packed to the brim with people, a result of the festival and a lack of transports Cedric suspected, and he'd been more than eager to get off.

They arrived outside what looked to be some kind of villa by the silver sea. Hundreds of beings meandered around hastily erected huts and shopping areas. Others danced to the beat of edm music that exploded from loudspeakers that seemed to have been placed for miles around. Others still wore fancy clothing, and danced at the foot of the villa to a far more traditional orchestra.

The shuttle deposited them off in the middle of the beach, and promptly left.

Cedric quickly turned to his companion. "This is a bit packed," he grinned, "Anything that appeals to you?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

People were everywhere. It was like all of Chandrila occupied the sprawling shoreline. The environment was intoxicating. Not a single face wasn't painted with some spectrum of elation. Libations were in hand, and all around everyone was moving and jiving to something. Dancing on the silver waters themselves were impressive hologram displays. Or was it real? She couldn't tell, but in the few seconds she observed the water dancing, she chocked it up to impressive either way. It followed a repeatable rhythm of twirling and twisting around an invisible barrier, crashing and colliding into infinite swirls before fanning out into a fountain. Some folks near the shoreline seemed to be dashed here and there with some excess spray.

"Oh wow."

Cedric and Loske were in the eye of the storm, the cacophonous sounds of the more intense glimmik beats mixed with the more classical notes was tricky on the ears. That, mixed in with the general noises of the crowds and the crashing of the waves nearby was all pretty overwhelming. Probably a good place to try and buffer everything out and focus. Some sort of Force Zen.

"Everything."

There was blue lighting overhead - contained tubes that made all the crowds look as if they were underwater.

As chaotic as it could have been, there was a meticulous sort of order to it. In typical Chandrilan fashion. People decorated in blue garb were stationed here and there, and while they looked pleasant, they were clearly on duty for crowd control. Their hands were clasped behind their backs, but their toes were tapping.

Between the noise, sounds, and activity, her senses threatened to get overwhelmed. Without much by way of explanation, she lashed a hand out to P Placeholder 0128 's own, and side stepped a cluster of other people who'd been on the shuttle. Something on the other side of the first immediate group of people smelled delicious - and they were like...the only people without anything in their systems by way of inebriation. Other than the poison in her blood, but..that didn't count.

She stopped at one of the first tents, where a woman with short-cropped hair greeted them with a smile. The cart-keeper's lips were stained with a colour that looked quite similar to what she was selling. "What's this?" Loske asked, with a point to the liquid in an elongated bottle.

"Only the best of Blue `439. From my home city." The wine was called Blue, which of course made Loske partial to it. Great name. Also, it was a pretty obvious title, given the stain on the woman's lips. It was closer to an indigo than a violet.

"Did you make it?"

"My family did!" She stated, puffing her chest with pride. "We have a vineyard in Nayli."

With a shrug, Loske signalled two fingers for the quantity and reached into her pocket to produce the amount of credits the woman requested for the vintage wine. "Are all the shops here local flavours?"

"Nothing but Chandrila for all these aisles." The woman gestured to the right and left, only stopping to pour and take a step back to ogle her measurements. Her hands were a little shaky, but their goblets were pretty evenly satisfied.

"Any recommendations?"

"Sure - Destota's got a great shop down there." She pointed in a direction over their shoulder, and a few stalls away "Best Pakarna you'll ever have. Most of the stalls after his have some great grappaberry desserts. And you of course have to try some Raava tonight. There's.....a lot around."

 

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Cedric was more than happy to let Loske take the lead here. He took his hand in hers, and found himself led toward a grouping of stalls and trailers hosting food of various kinds. Loske spoke with the woman, and Cedric busied himself with reaching out into the depths of the empyrean. The energy of this place reminded him of a battlefield, but there was no violent edge to it. It was the sensation of organics living to their fullest, one he'd come to be quite familiar with in times of war, but was woefully inexperienced with in a civilian setting.

It put him on edge, though he did well to hide the apprehension from his bond with Loske. He had no desire to leave - he just needed to get used to the ebb and flow of things. He envisioned it akin to walking through the undercity on Coruscant, only without the threat of being mugged or murdered in the process.

"Wherever the good liqour is," Cedric intoned as the woman finished her explanation on what was nearby. "It calls to me."

He cracked an amused little grin as he nudged Loske with his shoulder. "You ever been to a place like this?" He asked, as he certainly hadn't.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Obviously not very loudly, since you had to get directions."

The goblets were exchanged for credits, and Loske had to buoy her grip on the little vessels when Cedric nudged her, so as not to slosh the wine.

"No, never." She admitted, extending one of the drinks toward him since he seemed to really want something to sip. Fair enough, given their interaction with his father just a handful of hours ago. She, on the other hand, was starving as usual. "But I think I love it." A cheesy grin sprawled from cheek to cheek as she stepped away from the makeship shop, letting others pool in to express their interest. "Look how happy everyone is."

The observation hung in the air while she sniffed at the aromatic vintage, feigning appreciation before taking a sip. At least this was the first time she didn't instantly recoil at the intensity of a foreign alcohol. It was sweet, rooted in berries.

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"Normally I'd have picked up on it by now, but your presence can be a bit...deafening to my senses." It wasn't the best, but Cedric was proud of it. He took the drink she offered with an easy smile, bringing it up to his lips for a cursory taste. He'd never been one for wine, but this was a bit of a special occasion. It lacked the bitterness he'd come to crave from clear liquor: it'd do the job though, nonetheless.

"They do look a little positive, I'll admit," he added as he made a show of observing the crowds, channeling arrogant noble energy as best he could. It didn't counterbalance the festivities however, and he eventually chose to submit to them.

"Maybe we should throw celebrations like this on Coruscant," he paused to consider, "Well, actually I think a lot of people would end up getting murdered. Might have to eighty-six that thought," he took what amounted to a swig of the wine glass. Some of the nearby Chandrilans looked at him as if he were crazy: Cedric gave each of them a wine-stained smile.

"Could just stay on Chandrila," he added suddenly, shrugging. "Disappear here. No predators, no gangs, no war. Just us and Frank, and the Anari." He paused to consider, his gaze travelling off into nothingness as he delved into his thoughts. "Could be nice."

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske wasn’t quite so resilient to alcohol as her counterpart, and took far more timid sips by comparison. She’d blame her chemical constitution for their inability to metabolize alcohol up to a typical standard.

“Crowd control would have to be pretty invested.” She agreed to the threats that countered the potential for the ecunemopolis planet where the Imperium’s palace sat.

She was starting to walk toward the aromatic beckon of the tents on the other side of the sea of people, side stepping here and there, when Cedric’s whimsical theoretical caught her off guard. There was a pattern starting to form -- after a particularly long, emotional day, Cedric tended to get a little too farcical with his ideals. Last time he’d requested zero heroics, in a trade for a guarantee of life. This time, he was suggesting an insulated existence. A secret to be explored and kept.

“You think keeping Frank in the equation would be nice?” She simpered her first reaction out. Was he genuinely entertaining that as an option? It countered everything they’d been talking about earlier, what with the Jedi Order and all that, but it did sound wonderfully romantic. Settling down. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

Her response was indirect - settling down on a core world planet seemed...way too findable.

“Have you ever been to the Outer Rim? That part of the galaxy is more hospitable for people looking to just...exist.”

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Whether he was being serious or not wasn't something Cedric considered. He simply opted to remove the filter from his words, letting his internal thoughts spill out freely. It was a rare luxury that he truly only ever enjoyed in the company of Loske Treicolt or Dak . No one else could be trusted to keep his private musings to themselves, not even Alyson.

"Could just outfit the guards with stun batons. Start shocking everyone. Could even be part of the festivities," he snickered, reaching out to take her free hand in his own as Loske led him down the tents. "Of course I would. He's family to you, isn't he?" Cedric lofted a brow, though he already knew the answer to that question.

It felt like he was in a dream. As Loske knew, Cedric's life had been one of terrible conflict. Privately, he'd craved the things normal people enjoyed. He'd wanted family, peace - someone in the galaxy that could love and accept him as something beyond a Jedi, or a politician. To see him as the man he was. It was there, as they walked down that trail, that Cedric realized Loske was that person.

"A few times. The lack of law always confused me. Never got how things ran there," to the right was one of the big edm concerts. To their left was a path that led toward the orchestral groups, where people were dressed in suits and listened to slow jazz that appealed far more to Cedric's ears.

"I could try it out though." He squeezed her hand. "Maybe a cottage somewhere. Start a farm, live simple." It was a lovely dream.

But it was only that. Reality and the obligations of duty could never allow for such simple happiness.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Was Frank family? She'd never really thought to categorize their relationship. He filled many roles. Confidant, news anchor, tutor, fatherly-figure (when it came to scoling), coach, best friend. Loske, who'd not had a family of her own, assumed that the nuclear unit would also fill those traditional gaps in someone's life. So, yes, he was her family. "Yeah.." she drawled her thoughts out loud. "He really is." They were near inseparable.

"There are some unspoken laws." Loske had spent the better part of a year in the Outer Rim and Wild Space when the Alliance receded back to Sullust. "General apathy for anyone other than oneself keeps things afloat, I think. I don't know. Politics aren't my thing."

"Careful Imperator," She feigned a testy tone while pulling up to one of the stands with steam rising from it. "Your empty dreams could end up breaking my heart." The Rim had much to offer, but not to Cedric. And then, by extension due to her admittance of wanting to stay with him, it wouldn't have a spot for her. At least, not a permanent one. With this whole Watchwoman thing, she could come and go as she pleased, which suited her remarkably fine.

The steam from the stall rose and curled from a bubbling cauldron of liquid that shone beneath the blue and silver lights. "Hungry?" The friendly shop keep queried, and Loske leaned in a bit, keeping her occupied hands back. He seemed to recognized the wine goblet, and grinned. "Ah, Merie sent you over here. I love that woman. Great friend. She must have promised you Pakarna?"

"She said the best Pakarna."

"Bless her."

"What's Pakarna?"

"Chandrilan speciality, do you like spice?"

"Does it pair well with this..uh, Merie's Blue vintage?"

"We do everything well together."

"Awe, cute. Two, please."

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Cedric felt the same about his droid. Dak had been more loyal than any organic being had ever been, and he'd been so without complaint. Perhaps one could owe that to the droid's programming, but Dak had existed for several thousand years. His personality was as complex as any organic being's, whether he wished to admit it or not.

"Well, that'd at least suit us, though I'll admit I'd probably end up trying to get elected mayor or something." He snickered, "Seems I always find my way into these sort of positions."

The smell of...well, something pricked at his nose. It wasn't unpleasant, and he found his curiosity piqued as they came up to the stall. "Who said they were empty?" He cocked a brow in challenge, "Maybe I want to sweep you off to some mountain town. Pop out a clan of kids," He cracked a playful little grin as he gave the man behind the stall a nod, before turning back to her "Or maybe I'm only with you for your body," he rested a hand over his chin as he looked off toward the sky, and shrugged. "Who knows?"

He went quiet as she spoke with the man. A brow was lofted at the mention of spice, but he assumed it was of the flavoring variety. The Chandrilans were a bit loose, but they weren't crazed enough to serve narcotics with their food.

Or so he thought.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Maybe chief librarian."

Two very different options. "I'll ask Dak. He seems like he'd know your motivations with things. " Her gaze was levelled at him until she rolled her eyes and freed her hand to make another exchange of credits for product. She handed one bowl and spoon over to Cedric, still balancing her wine, while keeping one for herself. "Thanks, Mister Destota."

The fellow grinned toothlessly, his eyes glittering with a mischief that would be discovered soon enough. There was a reason his soups were the best.

"Ok, hold on," She was having trouble balancing the whole needing-to-use-a-spoon and holding her wine glass at the same time. Stepping back out of the crowd, she sought a more recluse corner where she could concentrate. She unclasped her fingers from the stem, and the glass didn't clash to the ground. It hung, suspended with an invisible string, while she focused on spooning the soup into her mouth. This Force thing was coming along nicely!

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"I'd take that."

Chief librarian sounded pretty nice, all things considered.

Cedric bowed his head to Mister Destota as he handed over the bowls. Cedric eyed his own curiously, unsure as to why it had such an aromatic scent to it, but willing to take the plunge nonetheless. Part of the fun involved with the formation of a fledgling empire was all the opprotunities to try new things, after all.

"Dak gets a lot of things, but romantic relations between organics definitely isn't one of them." Cedric mused as he followed after Loske like a lost puppy. A pattern was beginning to form where she took the lead on civilian matters, and he was more than happy to let go of the reins. "He'd probably say something along the lines of 'it's an organic prerogative to reproduce' or something like that, and then he'd wonder why we're such limited creatures compared to machines."

Yes, he knew his old friend quite well.

Cedric lofted a blow as the wine glass began to float. Normally he'd have said something about using the Force for mundane things, but the progress was impressive, and he had little desire to spoil the moment.

"You'll be throwing shipyards at people in no time," he grinned as he imitated her action. A spoonful was scooped into the mouth, and Cedric found the flavor to be a bit spicy, tangy and...electric?

Why was his tongue buzzing?

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Lose control
​

"So then the first option. The one with the clan of younglings." She pointed with her spoon at him, a triumphant grin evidenced at her deduction. She then swapped concentration between the soup and the wine - and let the bowl float while she took a finishing sip of her glass. Felt a little gluttonous, but much better. After the day's adventure, she'd been famished. The glass floated off somewhere safe, where it could settle and be disposed of properly. Her soup had enough attention now for her to finish it as well.

All around them, mirth was overflowing. Some folks were parading around, selling trinkets that replicated the swirls of water on the shores themselves, but in transportable containers. Hoops circled their hips and arms, all liquified. The suspension and manipulation of the element was impressive. People's dresses and suits were shimmering.

With a free hand, she reached up to her mouth, her fingertips brushing against her lips curiously. "Does your mouth feel funny?" She looked completely perplexed. She'd had spicy food before, but she'd never had a reaction that made her tongue and cheeks tingle. Usually it made her face hot.

Like with alcohol, any sort of substance was accelerated with her manufactured chemistry. It collided within her and manifested with a sudden dilation of her pupils. She gripped her empty bowl with two hands now. Cedric's silhouette started to melt, bathed in azure and silver, and find the same sort of rhythm as the pulsating beats that pounded through the audio system. It felt like the vibrations of the music were physically reaching out. The bowl was put away and she couldn’t shake the next thing she’d focus on. “Do you dance?”

Did she? She’d never!

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“Bold of you assume I want kids with you,” Cedric gave her a resting stare, though the slight shift at the corners of his Louth betrayed the stoic pseudo-insult for the jest that it was. He was considering opening that subject further when the buzzing in his mouth began to spread to his limbs.



It was a warm numbness, though it was not akin to alcohol. He both felt less, and far more, his limbs being filled with an energy that he’d come to associate with the Force, but it certainly wasn’t such. Realization slowly passed over the Jedi as he looked up toward the concert, and began to see tracers of light where they should not have been. “I’ve done ballroom dancing. Not much else,” he stated, not wanting to alarm Loske as he realized just what sort of drug they were on.


Psychedelia was something Cedric had researched. Some Jedi stayed that their use could open one further to the Force’s currents. All it did for Cedric was give him the jitters, dilated eyes, and an unnatural euphoric feeling in his gut that he was unsure whether or not he liked.

“But I assume we’re about to dance anyway,” he added, setting his bowl aside - really he just left it in the grass there. It was forgotten the moment it left his hands. “I think the spice that guy was talking about was actually spice.” He finally said aloud, “I’ve never done spice.”

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“Ballroom dancing.” The kiffar clone repeated, the words feeling heavy as they rolled from her tongue. She could almost see the breath they sailed on, and they dissipated just before hitting the ground, shattering into fractals that hardly resembled anything. Woah.

It was peculiar to try and think about someone’s life before you knew the person -- especially since in recent months they’d had such shared experiences. The Cedric of lore seemed a noble fellow, engrained in tradition and responsibility. Truthfully, that much was true today, but far less fanciful.

With a big, heavy blink, she looked back up at him. Her expression was curious, as if the contortion of her brows would get him to confirm or deny that he was seeing what she was seeing. Her delicate constitution was failing to metabolize in a productive way.

“Yes.” She agreed, maybe a little slow on the response time. “Yes we are.” She’d noticed the slight responses earlier, though now they were magnified, in Cedric’s affinity for the softer, more melodious tunes. They wandered back the way they came. Her steps felt much lighter this time around, and she found herself gripping to P Placeholder 0128 ’s arm so as not to float away.

“Say spice one more time.” She giggled along to his external musings and rationalizing the experience. Another noticeable pattern - when things became different, he’d analyze them. Loske’d just...go with it. She’d never done spice either - she’d been around it plenty with the Outer Rim, but never partook. This would be why. Her escalation points were much higher than a typically birthed mortal, and throttling her reactions was nigh impossible. Any sort of euphoria was instantly met with a prick of nausea.

The river of people pooled into a sea, and they were back on the beach amidst other folks who’d tossed off their shoes and were sashaying in the sand. Still holding onto Cedric, she leaned down to follow suit of the locals, and was soon barefoot as well. The sand was surprisingly cool, given all the heat people were exuding around them. “Okay,” she took a step back and let the sand cake around her feet while the continuous sway of the crowds bumped into her now and then. “Show me ballroom dancing.”

 

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Normally Cedric would have had a bit of apprehension about dancing outside of a palace or something of the like, but Loske had a way of getting him to do things he normally would have shied away from. "If I fall, you can't laugh," he cracked an uncharacteristically goofy grin. His body felt both heavy and light at the same time: warm all over, yet partly numb.

He gave no protest as Loske dragged him off into the sand. There were hundreds of people arrayed along the beach, but they were all background figures for Cedric. Expressions went unnoticed, details faded into fuzziness. Loske was a stark contrast. The orange light from dozens of torches danced across her features - its light was of just the right color to trick his hallucinating brain into perceiving Loske as if her blonde hair was a main of wavy fire, like some goddess of old.

"I'm a couple years out of practice," he stammered a bit awkwardly - the spice made focusing on the sentence a little difficult. Cedric was all feeling, and little thought. Don't do drugs kids.

A dozen different kinds of music poured in from just as many directions. Some sections of the crowd jumped to electronic, others swayed to jazz, and Cedric found himself drawn to the classical that was playing from the south. The fun thing about psychedelics was that they tended to let one focus on one thing above all others, and the music he was uninterested in quickly became an unrecognized buzzing.

Cedric swallow the bit of anxiety building in his throat, and took a decisive step toward Loske. His head was bowed slightly, one foot placed behind the other, as he offered Loske an outstretched hand.

"May I have this dance?" He asked, with every bit of cheese he could must enunciated in his tone.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“I think if you fall, I think I go down with you.” Oh wow, meta! “So I get the right to laugh.” In her mind, her negotiation techniques were infallible. In the real world, she had no idea of the statement was delivered at speed or was even audible. It may have been gobbled up by the hungry musical notes that surrounded them.

“Ah I’m so excited.” She admitted, as if that were a secret otherwise kept. There was nothing subtle about Loske in a sober moment, there was absolutely no trace of tact now. He was obliging her and she was beyond delighted, eagerly sliding her hand into his and trying to assume a shoulder-to-hand combo she’d seen in holofilms.

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"Long as I can laugh with you." It all flowed rather well.

It wasn't something many knew about him, but Cedric was a bit of a private romantic. One tended to be when such things were kept from their lives almost in entirety. He was more than keen on indulging her, simply enjoying her presence as her hand slid into his. That stupid grin refused to disappear as he gazed down at her, slowly beginning to sway to the rhythm of the music.

His euphoria was only heightened by the spice, making every gesture feel important, every motion otherworldly. For a moment, Loske became his world, and he had no hesitation in surrendering to it. Those around them ceased to exist, forming a backdrop of life that was overwhelmed by the all-encompassing light of their bond.

"You ever done this before?" He asked, taking momentary note of her relatively short life. "Last time for me was back on Ession. Wasn't as good as this."

Loske Treicolt