Lynn Caromed
With song and steel!
The sun was still shining when we stepped off of my Constable and onto the grass - it knew not, cared not for the dark errand ahead of us. Callous, unblinking, it's merry gaze mocked us with every step. The wind blew cheerfully between my calves, setting my skirt to flutter. It wanted to flee, to leave this place on the same winds that had borne us here, and oh that I could set it free and ride with it from the duty ahead! It was not to be.
Dark hours were coming. A long day of sound and fury, of pain and hatred and the mocking laughter of those who should be closest. Duty insisted I lend my presence, and so I would. But even a seasoned warrior as I must, in our lives, look the hideous visage of pure terror and death in the eyes, and acknowledge that it was one and the same with our own souls.
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"Auntie Lynn! Auntie Lynn!" A small human child - likely around five years old - dashed over to the leg of a handsome, dark-skinned woman in a yellow sundress. He disregarded her heels and hugged with impunity, until she leaned down and scooped him up.
"Noishe. You are looking healthy." Lynn commented with her usual stoic flatness, as the young boy squirmed slightly and fussed. "Where is your father?"
"In tha baffroom. Are you gonna teach me about Beskad t'day?" The boy asked hopefully.
Lynn raised an eyebrow. "Do you have someone you need to kill, Nephew?" She asked dryly. Noishe looked somewhat taken aback. After a moment, he shook his head. "...as I thought. Do not be so eager, dearheart. Find your father and tell him I'm here." She suggested blithely, before kissing the boy's forehead and sending him on his way with a pat on the behind.
The Mandalorians were known as warriors without peer throughout the Galaxy. Throughout history. A large part of that lie in the roots of the Mandalorian culture - as it was, in essence, as much a religion as anything else. What most people outside the Mandalorians failed to realize, however, was that there lie as much emphasis on family and cultural unity as there was on strength. A Mandalorian who could not contribute to her clan was worthless. A Mandalorian who did not contribute to her family was contemptible.
Which was, in essence, why Lynn was here on her family's estate. Cultural unity and togetherness. Pavilions had been set up to establish a decent foundation for the Caromed's extended family to meet - an event that warranted a great deal of food, alcohol, and medical supplies. Normally, a family reunion was a cause for celebration. And indeed, for most of the Caromeds there, it was.
But even a long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away, a woman was allowed to be wary of coming out to her parents and irritated that she'd been given two weeks advance notice to fly halfway across the Galaxy to be home for her mother's annual 'let's upstage last year's reunion at my sisters' festival. Lynn watched Noishe retreat into a crowd of half-familiar faces and almost-there names, pausing to stare at one of the brawls going on in the sparring circles, before dashing off towards the Caromed house. Her parent's house. As big and imposing as it'd been the last time she'd been guilted into coming home.
Uncomfortable in just a dress and sandals - without a single weapon on hand! - Lynn sought to project authority by putting her hands behind her back. She glanced to her left, and for the first time in this scene, cracked a smile. After all, someone very important was coming. Had it not been for her presence, Lynn would likely have found a reason not to come.
Dark hours were coming. A long day of sound and fury, of pain and hatred and the mocking laughter of those who should be closest. Duty insisted I lend my presence, and so I would. But even a seasoned warrior as I must, in our lives, look the hideous visage of pure terror and death in the eyes, and acknowledge that it was one and the same with our own souls.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Auntie Lynn! Auntie Lynn!" A small human child - likely around five years old - dashed over to the leg of a handsome, dark-skinned woman in a yellow sundress. He disregarded her heels and hugged with impunity, until she leaned down and scooped him up.
"Noishe. You are looking healthy." Lynn commented with her usual stoic flatness, as the young boy squirmed slightly and fussed. "Where is your father?"
"In tha baffroom. Are you gonna teach me about Beskad t'day?" The boy asked hopefully.
Lynn raised an eyebrow. "Do you have someone you need to kill, Nephew?" She asked dryly. Noishe looked somewhat taken aback. After a moment, he shook his head. "...as I thought. Do not be so eager, dearheart. Find your father and tell him I'm here." She suggested blithely, before kissing the boy's forehead and sending him on his way with a pat on the behind.
The Mandalorians were known as warriors without peer throughout the Galaxy. Throughout history. A large part of that lie in the roots of the Mandalorian culture - as it was, in essence, as much a religion as anything else. What most people outside the Mandalorians failed to realize, however, was that there lie as much emphasis on family and cultural unity as there was on strength. A Mandalorian who could not contribute to her clan was worthless. A Mandalorian who did not contribute to her family was contemptible.
Which was, in essence, why Lynn was here on her family's estate. Cultural unity and togetherness. Pavilions had been set up to establish a decent foundation for the Caromed's extended family to meet - an event that warranted a great deal of food, alcohol, and medical supplies. Normally, a family reunion was a cause for celebration. And indeed, for most of the Caromeds there, it was.
But even a long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away, a woman was allowed to be wary of coming out to her parents and irritated that she'd been given two weeks advance notice to fly halfway across the Galaxy to be home for her mother's annual 'let's upstage last year's reunion at my sisters' festival. Lynn watched Noishe retreat into a crowd of half-familiar faces and almost-there names, pausing to stare at one of the brawls going on in the sparring circles, before dashing off towards the Caromed house. Her parent's house. As big and imposing as it'd been the last time she'd been guilted into coming home.
Uncomfortable in just a dress and sandals - without a single weapon on hand! - Lynn sought to project authority by putting her hands behind her back. She glanced to her left, and for the first time in this scene, cracked a smile. After all, someone very important was coming. Had it not been for her presence, Lynn would likely have found a reason not to come.