Private Between the Noise

[Aiden Porte]

"Put me down! I swear to the stars, if you drop me I'm going to haunt you. I will become one with the Force specifically to ruin your life."

Aiden was slightly puzzled about her comment. He glanced down and then back up to her. "But...you wouldn't die from this fall?" Aiden spoke as he looked down and then back up again, as if maybe he misjudged his height.

"This is not consent, you confetti menace! And this isn't how fun works. You can't just force people to have a good time! That's how cults start!"

What a jerk....

"Your face is a confetti menace...." The Jedi Padawan whispered, although she might've been able to hear him.

He didn't care...

"Hey wait up, I want to ride it too!"

"OK! Who's sharing with me and the bear?"

The Padawan had set Isla down as he glanced around to Yasima. "How about this? Philip rides with Yasima. Eerie can ride with Isla, and..." The Jedi Padawan glanced around as all there was, was Michael Angellus , Cerys Dyn and little Nien. It looked as if Michael was going to get a treat and Cerys was holding Nien like he was a plush toy.

"I'll stay down here and watch as the Ferris Wheel of doom goes round and round."

The Jedi Padawan nodded his head and beckoned his hand forward. "Go ahead!"

Isla Reingard Phillip Slate Eerie Omera Yasima Zyntra

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Cerys didn’t know how she'd become the unofficial mount for a pint-sized, sugar-fueled green philosopher, but there he was—happily perched in the crook of her arm, offering cotton candy to anyone who so much as made eye contact. Including Michael.

“Hey little guy,” Michael said, “you can see everything better on her shoulders.”

"A new world, it is," came the bright, proud answer. "Nien, is my name. Good to meet you. Cotton candy?"

She gave Michael a dry look, one brow lofted in quiet warning.

“If you teach him to start quoting you, I’ll start making you carry him next time,” she muttered under her breath. But the words lacked any real bite.

Her eyes lingered on Michael for a moment longer. There’d been a time she’d sized him up with a quiet, critical mind—during the obstacle trials, before the Netherworld mission. She remembered the way he seemed afraid of his shadow. But this Michael seemed to have grown at least a foot taller in confidence and self-assuredness.

For a moment she thought he was stubborn.

But then, she decided... maybe she hadn’t given him enough credit.

"You’re walking better than the last time I saw you," she said aloud, tone crisp and clinical, but it might’ve been the closest thing to encouragement she knew how to give. She hoped the many meanings of the comment would be caught. "Progress. It suits you."

Then Nien’s voice broke through again, small and sweet and entirely inconvenient.

"Why is your face like that? Troubled you are."

Cerys froze like she’d been caught mid-crime.

“I—what?”

She stared at him, as if the audacity of his perception might be revoked under scrutiny. It wasn’t. He simply blinked up at her and smiled again, like he knew something she didn’t.

"I am not—troubled," she said, a touch too defensively. "This is just a normal face. My normal face, I am perfectly—"

Her words stalled as he offered her another tuft of candy. She took it with a sigh, chewed, and mumbled, “This should be illegal.”

Then, quietly, like it might vanish if she admitted it too loud—

“…Thank you.”

She shifted her gaze toward Michael again, her stance slightly less rigid now.

“If you are getting me food, make it that thing on a stick...the purple and green thing, please and thank you.”

The moment hung in the air like something fragile. But she didn’t flinch from it. From the offering of connection.

She would try this once.

| TAG: Michael Angellus Nien |

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[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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"A new world, it is," came the bright, proud answer. "Nien, is my name. Good to meet you. Cotton candy?"

The little one, he looks a lot like those of old lore that I read. Oddly, he only sounds like the one. Strange how this journal entry is beginning to sound like him.

”Nien”... nice to meet you, friend. You can call me “Michael”. Also, thank you for the offer, but I am allergic to the sugar that is the base for many sweets today. This was not entirely untrue, artificial sweets make me sick, and that is not an opinion. Still, it was nice of him to offer, so my smile was genuine.

"You’re walking better than the last time I saw you,"[/COLOR]

Considering how I had just explained how my ankle was broken the last time, I could not help but wonder…

"Progress. It suits you."[/COLOR] … that I needed to be more patient and let her force out a compliment.

Thank you, it is a result of being in a true learning environment. Not wanting to dwell on what I had learned about myself and how simply it came about since joining the Academy, I felt hungry again. The “eats” stalls within eyesight all served sugar based garbage. Unfortunately it looks like I will be going to the “Nerf Burger” stall.

I am looking to get something to eat, but that is not me trying to get away from you, if you wish to continue our conversation, I welcome it. It’s sad when you have to spell it out for people, but I seem to have to do this all the time.

”Purple and Green thing on a stick…” got it. That actually looked good, make that two...

 

[Nien]

"This is just a normal face. My normal face, I am perfectly—"

"A pretty face it is, Cerys Dyn." The young Nien smiled as he raised his hand and placed it carefully on her shoulder. While Nien was fairly new in the ways of the force, with him things came rather easy when it came to reading the emotions of others.

Especially her Cerys.

The young creature new the truth behind Cerys. He saw it completely the day she rescued him in the Hangar. That was when he knew he would follow her anywhere, and while small he was. He would protect her just as she had protected him that day. A day that was full of pain and suffering had turned to smiles, laughter and hope.

”Nien”... nice to meet you, friend. You can call me “Michael”. Also, thank you for the offer, but I am allergic to the sugar that is the base for many sweets today.

"Sorry I am, I shall find something more suitable for everyone next time. A pleasure to meet you, Michael." The tiny figure that was Nien waved after Michael as he went on to find himself a tasty treat.

“This should be illegal.”

“…Thank you.”

"See!" The young creature giggled slightly as she took another piece and he even though he saw the smallest of smiles form. That might've been wishful thinking, however he would forever wish that for his friend.

"I sense a shade of happiness." Nien leaned in and gave her the strongest and best of hugs his little body could muster. He hopped back into his hover tram as he directed it after Michael Angellus

For being a little guy, he could eat quite a bit, and of course he wanted to see these....carnival rides that he heard everyone talking about more.

"Cmon Cerys!" Nien said as he looked back to her before moving forwards once more.

Cerys Dyn

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Cerys blinked, slowly, at the little hand resting on her shoulder.

"A pretty face it is, Cerys Dyn," Nien had said—without irony, without sarcasm, without any of the barbs she'd spent a lifetime sharpening defenses against.

She didn’t know where to store that. There was no compartment in her mind labeled pure, unsolicited kindness.

So she just stood there, caught in the stillness of the moment, like if she breathed too hard she might crack something sacred.

Michael, thankfully, provided an out. "Thank you," he said after her earlier remark, "it is a result of being in a true learning environment." Then, with an almost apologetic edge: "I am looking to get something to eat, but that is not me trying to get away from you…"

Her brow lifted slightly, but not in mockery. If anything, she understood too well. Explaining yourself. Always explaining.

“You’re not that easy to get rid of,” she said flatly, but it was the closest thing to reassurance he was likely to get from her. “And you don’t have to narrate your exit.”

She turned slightly as Nien hopped down into his hover tram, waving at Michael and calling back to her: "C’mon Cerys!"

Of course. Of course he wanted her to follow. And of course he said it like that—bright and sure and soft in a way that didn’t give her time to say no.

She exhaled.

“I’m coming,” she muttered, loud enough for both to hear. “But if I end up stuck in a spinning teacup with someone vomiting cotton candy, I’m holding both of you responsible.”

She caught the eyes of passersby as she followed after the hover tram, her arms folded, expression neutral—but the edges of her mouth had softened.

Just a little.

Just enough for someone looking closely to say, "Maybe she was having fun."

| TAG: Nien Michael Angellus | EQUIPMENT: One heart hijacked by a child |

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[Isla Reingard]

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Isla wobbled slightly as her boots touched the ground again, like she'd just returned from low orbit and was reacclimating to gravity. She straightened her jacket with the ceremonious air of someone trying to reassemble the shattered remains of their dignity.

"Thank you for the forced airlift," she muttered to Aiden without looking at him, brushing invisible lint off her sleeves like he'd gotten his fun all over her. Then, under her breath, she added, "And your face is a confetti menace," mimicking his mutter with the precision of someone who memorized comebacks for sport.

As Yasmina called out, Isla turned toward her, blinking as the teen hoisted the bright blue teddy bear like it was her emotional support war beast. A part of Isla - okay, a very loud part - perked up at the invitation. Not the bear part, necessarily. But Yasmina. Her coolness seemed effortless, magnetic. It made Isla feel like a thermal detonator: small, anxious, but with wildly unstable potential.

Before she could volunteer, Aiden started assigning seats like this was some kind of tactical op. Isla blinked at him. "What, are we storming the Ferris wheel now?" she asked dryly.

She turned to Eerie with a cautious smile. "You okay riding with me? I promise not to talk too much. Or at all. Unless we get stuck at the top. Then I absolutely will panic."

As the carriage lowered with a mechanical hiss, Isla stepped inside and sat, hands folded neatly in her lap, back ramrod straight. Her foot tapped just once - nervous energy leaking out in small, traitorous bursts.

She watched Aiden below, arms crossed, smug and grounded. "Watch us go up," she mumbled to herself, just loud enough for Eerie to maybe hear.

The carriage jolted. The ride began to rise.

Isla tried to look unimpressed.

It didn't last.

Aiden Porte | Yasima Zyntra | Phillip Slate | Eerie Omera​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Isla Reingard Eerie Omera Aiden Porte Yasima Zyntra

Phillip sighed to himself. He didn't exactly see how a Ferris Wheel could be enjoyable. It was just going round and round in a circle. But if the others were going to do it, he wasn't going to stand back. Honestly, the only part he wasn't a fan of was riding it with other people. For now, he just clambered up into the little carriage to take his place, resting his chin atop of his hand to stare off the side of the carriage and prepare to look at the people below him.

It was funny in a way. He wasn't able to settle down because of the loud noises and all of the people, but the heights? That wasn't something that concerned him. Of course he glanced over towards Yasima who he had basically been assigned to sit next to and gave her a short shrug.

"If you need more space for the bear, just tell me."

And with that, he went back to being silent. As a nervous habit, he reached up to grab his glasses so that he could rub them against his shirt sleeve...before realising that his glasses were currently broken and discarded. He sighed to himself at that and flipped his hand over so that he could raise his chin atop his knuckles instead.

 

[Aiden Porte]

"What, are we storming the Ferris wheel now?"

Aiden couldn't help but turning a bit red at that comment. "Yea, my apologies on that."

What a jerk....

Aiden did his best to contain his laughter as he took a deep breath. Maybe he was trying to hard, he didn't want to let Lorn down. Also he didn't want to let Isla Reingard down. But he also wanted to make things enjoyable for the other Padawans.


The more he thought about things, he probably should've just made them cookies or something like that. They were far more popular with his Jedi peers than perhaps his fun planning skills.

The ride began as he watched them go up slowly, stop, then more individuals got in and before you know it, the ride was beginning to start full swing.

He hoped, that this would bring them some semblance of a fun time, or even a smile. They were indeed Jedi, but that didn't mean they couldn't have fun and enjoy the life a bit.

If only for just a while.

Phillip Slate Yasima Zyntra Eerie Omera

 

[Yasima Zyntra]

Location: Carnival
Gear: Yasima's Embrace, Knife made by father, datapad
Tag: Isla Reingard Aiden Porte Eerie Omera Nien Cerys Dyn Michael Angellus

Yasima got on the gondola bench with Phillip Slate one after the one with Isla Reingard and Eerie Omera in it so their feet dangled towards the back of their heads. The pair sat down and were quickly whisked backwards and up around the wheel. "The bear says thank you." she laughed and nudged him to try and snap him out of whatever funk he was in.

She half turned in her seat causing the whole gondola to rock back and forth and make the wheel arms shudder, she wanted to see the other girls, they were about her age and she felt she wanted to be friends with them. Her village was small and there were not all that many girls her age to talk too, particularly not fellow Jedi.

"What do you think? Awesome right?" she said to the two other young girls with a big grin on her face. The seat got higher and higher and quickly they could see the tops of all the stands and the colourful whirl of the helter skelter tower.
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[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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It was nice of little Nien to apologize, but it was not his fault. No worries, little friend. We all have our crosses to bear.

The little guy looked hungry too, so while I was at the stall, I simply asked for a third “skewer” as they called it. If the kid didn’t want it, I wouldn’t waste it. So, once I found where they were heading, I soon followed. I bring food.

Offering one to each of them, I went on to enjoy it while watching the sentients riding. What is a “Ferris Wheel” It’s just “up and down”.

 

[Eerie Omera]

Eerie let out a slow breath as she watched the carriage to the ferris wheel come to a halt in front of her. She gave Isla Reingard a quick glance before stepping into the carriage behind her. The young teen sat across from the nervous teen. Was she nervous? Eerie couldn't tell, cause the other girl was too good at keeping her feelings in check. "I don't mind if we ride together. Or talking, that doesn't bother me either." Man, she was bad at making new friends.

The carriage jolted forward, causing Eerie to tense some. Okay, here we go, things will be alright. Her mismatched eyes turned to Isla. The girl seemed calm on the outside. But...Eerie could see some cracks forming in that mask she put up. Small amounts of nervous energy leaked from the girl. Maybe that terrible thought of getting stuck at the top was getting to her. Honestly that was a valid fear.

Closing her eyes, Eerie breathed slowly, counted to ten, then breathed out slowly. A small battle mediation she had learned from her mother. Repeating the process again, she pushed nearly all of the nervousness from herself. Opening her eyes, she looked at Isla. "It'll be okay. I know, whatever happens, we can overcome it." The teen straightened her back and squared her shoulders. An attempt to seem more confident in her statement to reassure the other girl.

 

[Isla Reingard]

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Isla sat with her knees pressed tightly together, hands clasped like she was holding onto the very concept of composure itself. The gondola creaked as it swung gently, lifted higher by the rhythm of the wheel. Below, the lights of the carnival stretched out like a fractured galaxy - blurred, blinking, beautiful in that chaotic way she never quite trusted.

Her eyes drifted sideways to Eerie, who sat calm and composed, breathing like someone who knew what to do when the world tilted sideways. Isla envied that. Not just the control, but the belief that things could be okay.

Then Eerie spoke - "It'll be okay. I know, whatever happens, we can overcome it."

Isla blinked. Slowly. The words hit her chest in a way that was oddly disarming, like someone had knocked on a door she didn't realize was still locked. She looked at Eerie, really looked at her, and felt something settle - just a little.

"Thanks," she said, her voice soft and almost uncertain. "That's… nice. You say it like you believe it."

Then, the voice of Yasmina, bright and bubbling from the next gondola. Isla turned in her seat, clutching the safety bar with both hands like it might judge her if she let go, and peeked over the edge to see the other girl grinning back at them.

"What do you think? Awesome, right?"

Isla smiled before she could stop herself.

"It's terrifying," she called back, "but like… in a fun way. Sort of. Maybe. Ask me again when we're back on the ground and I know I've survived."

Her heart thudded in her chest, not from fear, but from being here. With them. The others. Talking. Existing like a normal kid for a moment. She wasn't sure if it felt natural yet, but it felt… possible.

And that was more than she'd expected tonight.

Aiden Porte | Eerie Omera | Yasima Zyntra | Phillip Slate​

 

[Nien]

“But if I end up stuck in a spinning teacup with someone vomiting cotton candy, I’m holding both of you responsible.”

"Why would a teacup spin?" Nien asked innocently as he caught up to Michael Angellus

The young creature glanced up towards Michael. "What know you, about these spinning cups of tea?" Then Michael offered him a delicious looking treat on a stick. Nien's eyes lit up as he took it with much excitement. "Thank you, Michael." He smiled as he looked from Michael then to the Ferris wheel.

What is a “Ferris Wheel” It’s just “up and down”.

"And around it goes as well!" Nien said with much enthusiasm as he took a bite of his food given to him by Michael. At the current time he seemed more interested in the food then the ferris wheel. The young Nien then heard the laughter from the fellow Padawans up in the air. The creature giggled lightly, it brought so much joy to him to see the happiness of others.

Cerys Dyn

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Laughter echoed from above, trailing down from the glowing arcs of the Ferris wheel. The silhouettes of Padawans—her peers, in the loosest sense of the word—rocked gently in the carriages, shouting half-jokes into the wind, free and foolish and loud. Cerys watched them, jaw tight, arms folded.

This was what passed for discipline now?

They were supposed to be Jedi—guardians, scholars, peacekeepers. Not squealing over candied fruit or waving prize bears like they'd won a war. It wasn't just immature. It was dangerous. That kind of comfort bred complacency. And complacency got people killed.

Her eyes shifted to Michael, who stood a little apart like she did, and then to Nien—who absolutely didn’t.

He was radiant.

There was no other word for it. The lights of the carnival reflected in his wide eyes like galaxies, and when he bit into the skewer Michael had handed him, it was with reverence—as if the meal were sacred and the moment eternal. And then he looked up at her. Just looked. Like she was something good in his world.

Something safe.

Cerys inhaled too quickly.

It was subtle at first, the tightening in her chest, the way her fingers pressed a fraction deeper into the crook of her arms. Then her breath came too shallow. Too fast. Her stomach flipped like it knew something her mind refused to admit.

She shouldn't be here.

Not because it was undignified. Not because it was inefficient. But because the weight in her chest at the sight of that child's joy was too much.

She cared.

She cared.

It was a vulnerability she hadn't authorized—something that had slipped in quietly, like sand through armor seams. If she stayed any longer, she would start to believe she deserved this warmth. And she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“I need to check in on something,” she said aloud, a practiced lie offered with absolute calm. “You two stay here. Enjoy yourselves.”

She turned before either could protest.

Didn’t look back.

Didn’t dare.

| TAG: Nien Michael Angellus |

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[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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This skewer was not the best choice of a dinner option, but it is “carnival food” so I did not know what I was expecting. Either way, I was trying to make sense of what the fun of this “ferris wheel” is, other than the horndogs who want to try and make out with their dates on the crescendo.

Cliche’

Little Nien seemed to be enthralled in his new snack, it was endearing to watch, and makes one forget that he is probably older than I am in years, but still considered an “adolescent”. However Cerys looked around like someone just flatulated in a speeder and … and there she goes. Don’t worry about her, little guy, she’ll be back. Probably not.

 

[Aiden Porte]

As Aiden turned back, it was now just Michael and little Nien, Cerys had just walked off. He let out a small sigh as he faced forward again, looking up to the group. He laughed and crossed his arms as he watched them continue their venture around. It was good to see some of them smiling, and even looked as if Isla Reingard was about to smile, or laugh.

Perhaps both if they would be so lucky.

Wait, that is a smile.

Aiden thought and he couldn't help but smirk and laugh. One would think she was trying to suppress it, but he knew a smile just as well as anyone. The Padawan also noted he would have to break Philip out of shell, or perhaps he was still upset because of the glasses. Aiden wasn't about to disagree as that was completely his fault. He would be buying a replacement for him incredibly soon.

Aiden hoped if anything they would open up a bit more with each other. Have some fun and learn more about each other. And if he could guide Isla through this evening of fun perhaps Lorn Reingard could breathe a bit easier this evening.

Eerie Omera Phillip Slate Yasima Zyntra Michael Angellus Cerys Dyn

 

[Nien]

Don’t worry about her, little guy, she’ll be back.

"Why...." The young creature said as he turned to Cerys, watching her walk off. "Cerys, come back." Nien's small voice seemed to carry the weight of limitless hopes and dreams. There was such a youth and innocence in his voice. With all that in play, there was only a few that knew of the troubles Nien was put through to be here.

"Get her, I shall." Nien spoke to Michael Angellus as he directed his hover tram in the direction she went. He could still see her from afar, yet she had gained quite a bit of distance on him.

Persistent she was.

"Cerys, please come back. So torn, you are. Talk to me, you must."

Cerys Dyn

 

[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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I did not want to follow, but I would not leave the little one alone. So I did, if only to keep an eye on and be protective of him.

Nien | Cerys Dyn

 

[Cerys Dyn]

She heard him behind her.

"Why.... Cerys, come back."

His voice—small, clear, and completely unguarded—pierced deeper than any saber could have. She didn’t turn. She couldn’t. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her footsteps faltered just slightly before resuming their careful, deliberate pace.

"Get her, I shall," she heard him say. The quiet whirr of his hover tram quickened.

And then: "Cerys, please come back. So torn, you are. Talk to me, you must."

She stopped. For a moment, the carnival noise faded, replaced by a silence so loud it screamed.

When she turned, it was only enough to cast a shadowed glance over her shoulder—just enough for him to see her eyes, and maybe, if he was watching closely, the crack in her voice before it even formed.

“No,” she said. Not sharply. Not cold. Just… empty. “Not now.”

And that was all she could give.

She turned back, arms wrapping tight around herself as if she could keep the ache from spilling out. The laughter of the other Padawans, the lights, the joy—they all pressed in like ghosts she couldn’t touch. She felt like a stranger in her own skin. Like something brittle held together by the memory of rules.

She had never felt more alone.

It would be easier, she thought bitterly, if I weren’t a Jedi.

If she could just... be someone who accepted love when it was offered. If she could be soft without fear. But she wasn't made for that. She was made to survive. To endure. To keep walking, even when her heart begged her to stop.

So she did.

EXIT

| TAG: Nien Michael Angellus | EQUIPMENT: Guilt, loneliness, and the weight of her own walls |

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