Private And All the Rest

[Corazona von Ascania]

Nova Point was one of Coruscant's most high-end commercial districts. Home to galaxy-famous restaurants and luxury brands, only the wealthy could afford even the most casual outing along impeccably clean streets.

It was also quite a distance from the Jedi temple. Not too far, but there were certainly more economical, space monk-friendly options closer to home. Nova Point was dedicated to hosting rich brats with entirely too many credits to spend.

Which, in Cora's mind, made this the perfect option for their excursion. She'd insisted on repaying Makko for his aid in escaping her bounty, a difficult situation that had drawn them deep into Coruscant's underworld. Even though she was as unfamiliar with the lower districts as he was, Makko's quick thinking and former lifestyle had kept them out of immediate danger. A fact that Cora was both grateful for, and resentful of how it highlighted her relative helplessness. As harrowing at that experience had been, it had given them the chance to explore their connection.

Maybe she'd chosen the affluent district as a way to feel more in control this time around. It certainly felt that way, but as she brought them to a stop at the shopfront for the lavish brand MODIFIED, Cora's thoughts shifted to the tattooed ex-gangster beside her.

"This is where I bought that coat—the one that I lost." While running from bounty hunters, he'd insisted that she remove the garment in order to avoid being easily detected. Her gaze slipped to his face, allowing herself to linger on his expression. Cora knew that he'd come from the slums of Denon, but she still struggled to imagine that sort of life . "They sell a lot of trendy clothes here. If you don't like anything, we can always move on- this entire block sells clothing and accessories."

After months of donning training garments and more spartan clothing, Cora had agonized over what to wear. Every social situation she'd been in had required a carefully chosen outfit, and today she'd settled on a white sundress overlain with a thin olive coat.

"Or we can grab something to eat. There's quite the selection of eateries a few streets over."

She smiled awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands. It was difficult for Cora to know how to approach Makko without bickering.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko tried to hide that he felt awkward. There were two factors at play here. He didn't care that she saw him feel a bit out of place here. Makko was unapologetic about his background. This place made him feel nervous, but she would know why.

On the other hand after putting his body on the line the thwart a kidnap attempt through pure stubborn resolve he did not want her to see him feeling nervous about this trip. He liked Cora and after another break for training and guided meditation and jedi things he felt some pressure to recapture the mood and rapport between them from that lift back to the surface.

"If we're here we should hit the shops I guess," he said.

Maybe he should have taken her to a bar first. The night before. Or even right before for a few glasses of courage.

"Man they have big security guards here."

It was all glass doors and glass displays. Bright and airy and open. Yet every door was closed and behind it was an impeccably dressed security guard. They weren't there to protect the shops from theft, they were there to make sure the right people were allowed in.

Makko had worn simple jeans and a patterned short sleeved shirt. Unfortunately the shirt only showed off more tattoos.

"Bet you'd love the shopping districts if Denon too," he declared. "Where do you wanna start?"

Fashion was important on Denon. It was identity, it could be affiliation. All walks of life wore a great variety of clothing, probably more than almost any other city. People often wore clothes to fit in, on Denon they wore them to stand out.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Do they?"

At Makko's comment about the security guards, Cora tilted her head briefly in thought. She'd never noticed them, likely because she'd never been hassled. They'd never looked at her with a discerning eye or made her feel out of place. They'd simply been a fixture in her life.

She spared the security team a glance now, noting how though they hadn't moved, their focus was squarely not on her.

Ah.

Fingers twitching with indecision, Cora reached out to give Makko's hand a brief squeeze. It was a gesture meant to reassure, similar to how he'd comforted her through the jungle storm during their training session. Her gaze flickered to the closest security guard, then back to Makko.

"Menswear." She insisted, leading him towards the appropriate section.

Soon they'd find themselves in front of a backlit display of streetwear, the type people would pay far too much to look casual in.

"See anything you like?" Cora had drifted towards the racks and was now rubbing the sleeve of a tapered leather jacket between two fingers. A well-dressed associate approached them, but Cora deflected her politely.

"I've never been to Denon before," She informed him while sliding garment hangers back as she searched for his size—or what she imagined his size was. A brief glance at Makko reminded her that she'd seen him with this shirt off, and she returned to her search with a dusting of pink on her cheeks. "I'd certainly love to peruse their shopping districts."

"Do you think you'll ever go back?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Everything was very spread out here. Back at Denon shops were often a few meters wide but very deep. Clothes piled onto hangars and strewn across shelves. Here and entire rank might carry a single design of shirt but be surrounded by enough space for ten people to look at the one shirt.

It was quite relaxing in a way. No crowds, no pushing, no bartering. He would have liked more things in the way of line of sight to the security guards so he was less aware that he was being watched.

The metal hangers hissed against the rails as he took a look. A lot of the clothing carried nothing as vulgar as a price tag. Some did.

The colour on his cheeks came from a very different source to hers when he caught sight of a number.

"I dunno. There was this whole crackdown when I left and..." Makko shrugged, he was working through a lot when it came to Denon, Fractal State and his future. He would porbbaly bring that up somewhere he felt more comfortable.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Makko checked. "You really don't have to..."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Oh, right. I did hear about that." Cora frowned, recalling the banners that scrolled across numerous news stations documenting the crackdown. It had been notably absent from certain holochannels, likely those with sympathies to CorpSec, or had at least been paid off.

She swallowed down a sudden pang of anxiety from bringing up such a touchy topic. Good job, you fool.

"Makko, I'm sure." Cora glanced up at him, trying to assuage his wariness with an admittedly nervous smile. She wasn't worried about the exorbitant price of even the most modest piece of clothing. "I wouldn't have invited you if it wasn't. Besides-"

She held a jacket up to him by the hanger, trying to gauge the size compared to his torso.

"-I need to thank you properly for getting us out of that situation intact."

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

The corner of his lips twitched upwards into a smile.

"Well, if its alright..." he said. He'd asked again, but if she was absolutely certain that the best way to repay him was with retail therapy then he was absolutely on board.

He would just have to cover his eyes and ears when paying to avoid a piece of his soul dying at the cost.

Makko liked things with tech, lights and smart wearables and mood-changing colours, but that clearly wasn't in here.

He took the jacket from her and turned towards a mirror.

"Ooh, what's over there?" he asked excitedly, seeing a whole display of dark shades from a particular designer across the floor.

With one final check completed, his enthusiasm for decorating himself with ink, clothing, jewellery and gadgets was unleashed.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Hm?"

Cora followed his line of sight to another street wear display. "Ah, that's the Ralph Klein winter collection." Her gaze shifted back to Makko, noting how his apprehension seemed to melt into enthusiasm.

"Let's go check it out," She insisted, busying them over to the adjacent exhibit.

He seemed a little more at ease, which Cora was silently thankful for. She'd hoped that bombarding him with high end vices wouldn't be too overwhelming.

Perusing a rack of obscenely expensive tees, she compared two in each in hand; one was black, the other a slightly darker shade of black.

"Is this the sort of style you're into?" Holding them up, she tilted her head to try and compare which one would look better. "They tend to run a little form-fitting."

Not that he seemed to mind tight clothes.

A sharply dressed attendant arrived, bearing two glasses of champagne. Cora accepted one with a polite smile in thanks, draping the pair of shirts over her free arm.

The server glanced to Makko a bit nervously, but silently offered him the remaining glass.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"Thank you," said Makko.

"Just let us know if you need any more help," he said, before floating away.

Makko offered Cora a lopsided smile. "I tried not to look awkward then, but I think I looked real awkward," he admitted.

He looked at the tees and gave a nod.

"Yeah I like fitted tees and cool jackets," he admitted. He doubted the Denon style of baggy trousers adored with pockets, gadgets and tech was foojnf to be the same. "Doesn't have to be black. I like dark with a splash of colour."

He looked around them and took in the different collections.

"Looks like they stick with more muted colours here. Oh, I like your dress by the way."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched Makko interact with the server from behind delicate sips of pale golden champagne.

"Not really," She said lightly, swirling the flute in her hand. "Maybe a little." Came the admission with a reassuring smile. "You did fine."

A shading of pink dusted her cheeks at the complement. "Thank you, this is one of my favorites." A simple sundress, fitted at the bodice and flared breezily at the waist was a versatile piece. Now that he'd drawn attention to it, Cora felt uncomfortably warm in her coat. It was cooler outside, and stores tended to crank the heat in compensation.

Placing the glass and tee shirts down on the counter, she eased the jacket from her shoulders with her back partially turned towards Makko. Cora's long blonde hair had been brushed to the side, and the low-cut back of her dress revealed a string of thin, dark bruises angling up to just below her shoulder in a diagonal line.

The disturbing marks on pale skin disappeared when she shifted her hair to cascade down her back.

With the coat in her grasp, she took another sip of champagne and began perusing another rack of tees, pausing to consider a slate grey v-neck with a single red stripe lancing across the waist.

"Are things at the temple getting…easier for you?" There was a hopeful, yet probing note to her tone.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"Erm, yeah, I mean yes. Sort of."

Makko had been thinking about what to say to Cora about his life at the temple for some time. He wouldn't have stumbled over his words had he not seen those bruises across her back.

For a fleeting moment, he had assumed they were from the training or perhaps the fall through the chains at the Tangle. They all got bruised from time to time.

Sometimes they even took a lot of training lightsaber blows in a row because they were too stubborn to admit defeat.

Reality had stuck home. Struck him with almost the same sensation as a gut punch. Nausea, followed by pain, followed by a hot, pulsating anger.

Those were from her father.

Makko smiled at Cora. Those feelings would percolate up, inevitably being expressed to her in some way, but now was not the time. When it came to Cora everything was always so acute. Whether it was frustration or passion or anger or concern.

"I had a long talk with a Jedi here. Starlin Rand. He said a lot of sensible things. I think it's all a bit..."

He looked around them and dropped his voice before the next admission.

"...bit frightening for me, ya know?" he said with a casual shrug. "I don't really know much about the wider galaxy, Jedi Sith and everything. So it's been a bit of a leap of faith to trust them? But I'm going to try. I'm not sure the Fractal State really wanted to look out for me either."

His thumb rubbed the pale skin between his fingers and he became perilously close to drawing a parallel to the bruises on Cora's back.

"Hey though, shall we go try some things on?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A vague trickle of anger brushed against her senses, but when Cora looked to Makko, he was smiling at her.

Must have been my imagination.

"Yeah?" She asked hopefully. Cora knew about the troubled life that Makko had come from given what he'd described to her in bits and pieces. As much as she could gather, anyway.

The transition would be hard for anyone, but especially so for someone who'd come from gang life. The fact that he was trying brought a smile to her face.

From memory, she led the way to the fitting area—a far cry from your typical department store, each room was outfitted with finely upholstered chairs, a beverage machine, and an actual door. And mirrors. Wall to wall mirrors.

"I know this is hard, but I'm proud of you, Makko." She clasped his hand in a brief squeeze. "It's a lot to take in, but things will get easier."

She glanced to the pale scars at the webbing of his fingers, then back to him.

Cora hadn't shared his skepticism of the Jedi. She'd come from a life of privilege, and had jumped into the NJO with both feet first.

"You know that I'll help you, right? A lot of people helped me when I first joined. They're still helping me."

So used to doing everything on her own, Cora was gradually coming to accept assistance from others. It still felt strange, but developing a sense of camaraderie had been uplifting.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

It escaped him that they had armfuls of clothes to get through. Fancy clothing that he was desperate to try and as he started truly enjoying being pampered.

There was something so open and heartfelt in her reply that he stopped thinking about any of that. They had their own private area with its own changing room and viewing area. It also afforded him some privacy to speak openly.

He set the very expensive clothes down as a messy pile on one of the chairs and turned towards Cora. Two short steps and he surprised her by wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Where he had come from showing weakness was setting yourself up to be discarded by the gang. It was difficult for him to do, hard to admit that he was struggling. Her acceptance, her pride in his admission, made all the difference to him when he felt so alienated from everyone.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Oh," Cora said softly when Makko's arms enveloped her, wincing slightly when his hands slid around the tender bruises hidden by the fabric of her dress. She'd hadn't expected that, but his touch was welcome and it inspired a pleasant buzz of warmth beneath her skin.

It had been weeks since they'd had any semblance of alone time together. Which was her own doing, given how she'd wanted to keep their interactions quiet. Not out of concern that the Jedi would find out—though that thought made her anxious—but out of fear of her father and his reaction. Dating, however casual or serious, was not permitted in a family where strictly arraigned marriages were the norm.

The sincerity in Makko's voice surprised her, and she smiled. Tentative at first because affectionate touch was not her native language, Cora's arms settled around his back.

"I missed you," She admitted, voice muffled against his shoulder.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"I missed you too," he said, folding his arms together against the small of her back. He didn't even pause over the admission.

After the way she had taken his explanation, he didn't even have the heart to try and mock her in some way.

He took a few slow breaths before he started to feel a little awkward. They were still not entirely on solid footing for where they stood. It was his turn to be just as uncertain of his they proceeded.

Makko took a step back, looked away and found that every wall was a reflection of them from a different angle.

"Best get trying things on!" he said, letting that enthusiasm back in. He grabbed a few hangars at random and stepped through the curtain. There was only one mirror with the changing cubicle.

"How's your training going?" he asked, kicking off his shoes and pants, leaving them in a visible pile beneath the curtain. He pulled on some dark skinny jeans and swapped into one of the light tees.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"R-Right."

Cora cleared her throat gently as they disengaged, busying herself with readjusting the coat draped over her arm.

Her eyes shifted to the floor where Makko had piled his clothes behind the curtain, grateful for the momentary space and hoping that it would allow the flush to subside from her cheeks. This was all so new to her.

"It's going well." Cora's voice cracked a little, and she paused. "I'm fortunate to have Valery Noble as my Master—I've been learning a lot from her, and she is very kind."

In truth, Cora idolized the Sword of the Jedi. She was strong, confident, and beautiful. At the same time, she could be tender and empathetic—and a good mother to her young daughter.

"I…kind of want to be like her some day." Cora admitted while leaning against one of the mirrors, another blush deepening her pink face.

When Makko emerged, she automatically gave him a once over—because that was what you do in this situation—and promptly shifted her gaze away once she realized that she was staring.

"I like the jeans, but…" She picked her way through the pile of clothes, retrieving a heather gray tee with a small, artistic white design near the waist. Cora offered it to him.

"Try this?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

"Oh I met her once," Makko said from behind the curtain.

He had been caught by Valery sneaking through the temple towards Lossa's room. She had stopped off to get some things after they'd met at a club and then an awkward conversation about Makko's force sensitivity had started.

"She was the Jedi who first convinced me to stay," he said as he stepped out. That was one was of condensing the story.

He let who inspect the clothes and realised he was enjoying this a great deal. Makko took the offered shirt and did not retreat behind the curtain to change.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah this is better. You didn't have anything you wanted to try? We did have to lose stuff on that train."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

“You have?”

Cora blinked in surprise. “Oh, you must have met her on Denon, then. I hear she visits from time to time.”

That made sense enough to Cora.

She cleared her throat suddenly and averted her gaze when Makko made to remove his shirt right in front of her. The fact that they had some measure of privacy seemed to make little difference to her.

“Oh, uh.” She fumbled for her words, face going full tomato mode now. “I was just going to pick up another coat. The one that I lost…is the same as this one. Only on blue.” She waved it off quickly.

“We can just…pick it up before checking out.”

She chanced a glance towards him, fully clothed now. Cora nodded in approval, the beginnings of a proud smirk twitching one corner of her lips.

“I know, I have good taste.”

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Sometimes Makko was entirely careless in his actions. Sometimes he could be very nervous about saying or doing the right thing. There were other times when he was perfectly deliberate and entirely confident in choosing a path to get the reaction he wanted.

"You do," he replied, smoothing down the shirt. The fabric was nice, just a little stretchy. It probably wouldn't need much ironing too, which was good because he hated ironing things.

Makko placed a hand on her shoulder. After some time apart even that slightly familiar gesture didn't come naturally. He moved behind her, looking over her shoulder to the mirror.

"We do look good together," he observed, his reflection grinning back at her.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora reflexively tensed when Makko's hand came to rest at her shoulder. She swallowed thickly as he moved behind her, but her gaze followed his own to the mirror closest to them.

Standing there with her back to him, Cora realized he was kind of right.

"Yeah." She said softly.

They couldn't have come from more different backgrounds. Cora grew up wealthy, living on a spacious estate where her basic needs had been more than met. She'd never gone without a meal or a comfortable bed to sleep in.

In contrast, Makko had fought to survive the unforgiving streets of Denon, falling into the gang lifestyle for some semblance of protection.

And yet, they shared some grim similarities.

With that thought, Cora's eyes drifted to the hand clasped at her shoulder and the white scars between his fingers.

"Did you, uh…want to try on something else?"

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

There was a contrast to them. No one could miss that. He was still surprised that she not only tolerated him, but seemed to be enjoying his company. They both struggled in their own way and came at their troubles from different angles with similar stubborn streaks.

He nodded slowly to her question, but remained where he was. Makko took a deep long breath and looked at the pile of clothes. At least they had some privacy here, instead of dealing with the rush of a typical big value clothes store.

Someone was waiting to take anything they weren't keeping when they left. Even though he tried to put the price from his thoughts, Makko was even more picky than Cora because just a few items would be an eye watering total.

They stepped out of the shop with a few designer bags and Makko still shaken by the total.

"Wanna grab some food and then go looking for a jacket?" He asked. They had started to realise there was a lot to talk about. Cora had promised she knew a better shop for mens coats and he wasn't going to turn that down.

Even if his neck was still sweating from the credits Cora had casually slapped on a card.