Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Comforts of Lost Time

Niamh had spent a long time away from Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron when she had lost him on Arkania, until he found his way to her by chance.

Now, she had learned she almost lost him again to the Sith.

Her hands shook as she stirred the pot of melting cheese in the Commenor Palace kitchen, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She had lost many years with her son, but in the few years of his childhood she was able to spend with him, she learned his favorite food was mac and cheese. Now, wanting to raise children with refined pallets, Darlyn never had to eat food from a box.

Which is exactly why Niamh was here now, making it from scratch.

Four different flavors of cheese, all being melted with the freshest milk and butter she could find, waiting to be combined with freshly made pasta noodles. She prayed this would help her son's depression that he was in after the events at Concord Dawn. Mixing the cheese and pasta together, Niamh seasoned it with fresh ground pepper, before taking it to Darlyn's room. Knocking on the door a few times, she waited a moment before walking in.

"Darlin'? A stóirín? Are you awake? I made you your favorite... At least, when you were little... Are you hungry?"
 
For his part, Darlyn wasn't exactly, active at the present time. With his work for the day essentially done, at least the essential bits, and what he didn't have time to handle distributed to Ministers as necessary, he had retired to his room for the day. Perfectly normal, if you ignored the fact he'd spent at least 30 of the previous 48 hours laying face down in the largest possible pillow nest he could form to block out the sounds outside of his room. He actually wasn't aware his Mother had decided to visit, a fun fact about not leaving his room and focusing on the pillows he was submerged in was that he wasn't the most aware of his surroundings. So it actually caught him off guard when he heard his Mother walk in.

Hearing Niamh Jones Niamh Jones , he almost felt worse. Rather meekly, he reached out his hand and tried to muster the willpower to Force Push her out of the room, even if it would only be rather weak and half hearted if he could manage it. As it was, he couldn't muster the motivation or willpower, so he dropped his arm on the bed and moved his face so she could hear him. "Go away, I want to be alone."

Then he caught the smell, and after a moment he sighed quietly. "... I don't suppose you can just leave it by the bed for me and leave me alone?"
 
Niamh walked over to Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron with an almost amused smile. Such a teenage way of trying to avoid his mother, it was kind of endearing. When he suggested she leave to food for him and go, she couldn't help but laugh.

"A stóirín, I know what happened to you. Do you really think I'm going to leave you alone again? I've left you alone once, and you suffered for it. You're suffering again now, so let me at least be here with you?"

She smiled, almost pleadingly, at her son as she sat on the edge of the bed, warm mac and cheese in her hands.
 
"What I think is that you have my pasta hostage and are making aggressive negotiations. So I really don't have much power here since we both know I can't just threaten to fire, shoot, stab, maim, or electrocute you to make you leave the pasta with me in peace." He sighed and turned his head a bit, so Niamh Jones Niamh Jones could see his face, even without him sitting up. "... Did you use the fancy pasta that's all curly or did you use the rancor shaped noodles?" HE couldn't quite see the pasta, since he still didn't want to sit up, but at least he wasn't trying to get his Mother to leave. Surely that counted for something to her.
 
"Yes."

Niamh, admittedly, was proud of herself for having just a bit of the usual sass(?) that Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron gave her. She ran her fingers through his curls as he looked up at her, and hummed in thought. Setting the bowl of pasta on the bedside table, Niamh pulled her son up into a hug, and leaned back on the bed.

"Before you complain, the pasta is too hot to eat right now anyway, so for a minute let me hug you and make sure you're alive, okay?"
 
He groaned when she pulled him up into a seated position, forcing him to lean against her shoulder. "I'm alive, can't you tell from my delightful commentary? My positively endearing demeanor?" He grumbled against her, not stopping her but not reciprocating it either. HE just sort of sat there and let her do what she felt she needed to do. "... You done yet? I don't mind you coming if you're going to give me food but I really don't feel like just, sitting and talking and crap like that. Too much effort involved."

Not to mention he was worried Niamh Jones Niamh Jones would be able to make him actually talk about how he felt if he let her keep him from busying himself with food or naps. Last thing he wanted was to let everything spill, especially if it was where she could hear. He didn't want her to feel the same way everyone else in their species would about him if they really got to know him.
 
A small laugh came Niamh at Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron 's commentary as she cradled his head, running her fingers through his hair. Gods, how long had he not been taking care of himself? She frowned at how greasy his hair was, and sighed as she released him before handing him the bowl of mac and cheese.

"Arron Faolan Jones, when was the last time you washed your hair? Or washed your bed sheets for that matter."

Though scolding him, there was a tone of lightness to Niamh's voice. Like a mother who was exasperated with her teenage son who had put off chores in favor of fun and games, Niamh stood and actually took a good look at her son's room. Dust covered almost every surface, laundry lay scattered on the floor and furniture, and honestly the only thing that looked like it had been cleaned was Darlyn's bird cage for his pet dove.

"I'm cleaning this room, starting with all the dust you've let gather. It's bad for your lungs."

Rolling up her sleeves, Niamh grabbed the nearest mostly-clean cloth she could find, and started wiping down every surface, tossing all the laundry in a pile as she went. She'd gather all that when the dust was cleaned. As she worked, she started humming, though it didn't take long for her to actually start singing.
 
Darlyn purposely wrapped himself in his blankets to cover himself almost completely, with the bowl of pasta seated in his lap. "Love you too Mom, you know you really could do to tone it down a tad. I was going to make sure it was cleaned when I felt like getting out of bed." Of course that wasn't the point to make, he clearly wasn't going to be moving out of bed if he didn't have to and he knew it. Still it was his mother, how harshly would she point that out? Probably not at all right? In either case he just got to eating the bowl of cheesy pasta slowly, humming along with Niamh Jones Niamh Jones as she sang.

"Be careful around the lil' guy, he can get pretty antsy when he's around cleaning." On cue, the bird made a particularly loud coo, flapping his wings and making a bit of a fuss. Enough that he could easily be heard without shaking the bird cage. Darlyn nodded his head (still covered in the bed sheets) towards the bird to indicate that was exactly what he meant. And back to eating pasta and humming along with his mother singing a song he didn't recall ever actually hearing.
 
At first, Niamh didn't realize that Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron said that he loved her. She had the worst habit of hyper-focusing on chores, and missing when people spoke to her, you see. It really, truly, didn't register in her brain until a third of a way through the song, and her voice began to waver. She could feel the tears begin to sting her eyes, and she desperately tried to blink them away.

Cleaning furniture with tears will not end well for anyone.

She did look up when Darlyn's dove began to make a fuss, and laughed just a little bit.

"Such a fussy child, aren't you? It's okay little one, I'm not going to mess with your cage."

Walking over, Niamh cooed at her son's little buddy for a moment, before getting back to cleaning.

"Darlin'? Do you have any clean clothes to wear? I'm going to wash your laundry when I finish dusting."
 
Somehow he hadn't managed to notice the way Niamh Jones Niamh Jones reacted to his absentminded word choice, too focused on his food and fussy bird to take stock. He probably would've done some severe backpedaling if he had, instead he just watched his mother take a turn to calm the boy down. When finally the bird was calm again, he funneled his limited energy into eating as much pasta at once as possible. Managing to not choke to death on a mixture of cheap and expensive cheese covered noodles, he emptied the bowl in record time before laying back on the bed, still wrapped in his blankets.

He actually managed to muster the energy to open the bird cage with the Force, and his little buddy flew over, landing on his hand as he stretched it out for him to rest on. Listening to what she asked, he absentmindedly pet the bird's head and responded. "Well the most recent stuff I wore is probably by my bed. Probably a shirt and pants that are mostly clean there. But I'm willing to guess you're not gonna accept that, or just letting me lay here in my underclothes until you're done."

He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he could drift to sleep. "There's a few suits and dress shirts in my closet I haven't worn yet. But they're not exactly 'lay in bed quietly' type clothes."
 
Niamh glanced up when she heard the bird cage open, and smiled as the dove landed on Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron 's hand. Such a sweet little bird. A laugh did escape her lips as Darlyn suggested she would let him lay in his underclothes.

"Well, you'll have to change clothes at some point. After all... I was thinking of showing you some pyromancy later. That is... if... if you want me to? I... I know Auburn would probably be a better teacher but... I... I'd probably... be better about the... religious undertones..."

Though she wore a smile on her face, her voice shook with nervousness. Niamh stood straight, and faced Darlyn, wringing the cloth in her hands as she stared down at the floor. Realizing she was clinging it a little too tightly, she tossed it on the pile of dirty laundry, and rubbed her forearms.

Gods, why was offering to teach your son pyromancy so nervewracking?
 
Darlyn did lift his head up a bit at what Niamh Jones Niamh Jones mentioned. Teaching him some pyromancy? He wasn't really able to see her clearly from where he was laying though, and laid his head back down quickly. He didn't want to seem too eager after all, he still wanted to stay shut in after all anyways. His voice didn't 'smile' as he talked, but it had just a bit more energy to it as he replied to her. "I only have to change if I have to get out of bed. And you know I'm not all that religious anyways."

This was, quite stressful. Yet he felt a bit calmer than that morning, perhaps it was the dove, or his mother acting like a good mom. Or maybe it was the food, actually it was probably the food. Put him in a slightly less empty feeling mood, so even he felt a bit surprised when he continued. "But I wouldn't mind trying to learn not to burn or... something like that. Could be useful."

He'd have to get up now wouldn't he? Kark it, he hadn't considered that.
 
Niamh's shoulders dropped at her son's seeming disinterest. She went quiet as Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron did, feeling disappointed but not surprised. He'd been detached from his heritage for almost two decades, why would he have-

"Not burning? Oh my little darlin'! That's always the first lesson. Who would trust children with starting fires? ... Don't answer that."

A small laugh came from Niamh as she walked over to her son, and gently tugged the covers to encourage him to get out of bed.

"Come now, up up. You'll have to guide me to the least flammable area in the palace. But first, you're going to wash your hair... And don't think about protesting that, I can and will shove your head in the biggest sink I can find and wash your hair myself."
 
Darlyn immediately regretted his decision, as he was "practically ripped free" of the covers by Niamh Jones Niamh Jones . He groaned a bit and pushed himself up to a seated position, listening to his eager mother's suddenly much more energetic rambling. He almost wanted to smile now that he could hear her sounding so joyful, but still kept a neutral, if sad, face as he reached out for help to stand. Whenever it was given, he found his footing a bit shaky, as he had been a bit unsure after so long laying down, but managed to wave off her threat of washing his hair.

"I'll take care of it Mum." He mumbled out the words, before moving on his own way to the bathroom. He was quick to wash his hair, something not all that difficult to do. He was used to being tipsy when he was doing this after all, so being sober just tired and upset was a significant improvement. After a few minutes he left the room enough to summon the Force and pull said clean suit to his hands, and quickly changed.

When he left, he was wearing a nice clean, suit. He fiddled with the cuffs to get them just right, and walked up to his Mother. "Alright, this way." He paused as he reached out for her hand, before gently taking hold of her wrist and leading her through the hallways. Rather than somewhere without anything flammable, he decided to lead her to the reconstructed gardens. There was enough space, and fewer people would be around to judge them. Besides the point, it was the most calming place in the Palace for him, short of his whiskey cabinet.
 
Niamh smiled as she helped Darlyn Excron Darlyn Excron get of bed and went to wash his hair. Sure, he wasn't taking a full shower, but at least his hair and clothes were clean. She'd shove him in a bath after the lesson, no sense going to bed covered in soot and smelling like a campfire. She gathered up all the dirty laundry as she waited, putting them in a basket for later.

She was a bit surprised when she saw him reach for her hand, but smiled even as he grabbed her wrist instead. There was a bit of her "mommy's boy" left in him after all, it seemed.

Letting him pull her along, Niamh kept an eye on landmarks and artwork, to be sure she could find her way back on her own if she needed to. When they reached the gardens, she admired the flowers for a moment before pulling him towards the largest clearing she could find. Sitting on the closest bench, Niamh pat the seat next to her, and waited for her son to sit down.

"All right, so, to start with, I'll be making flames, and you'll be learning to not be burned by it, okay?"
 
Following the motion of Niamh Jones Niamh Jones , he sat down beside her and listened. She was the teacher here after all, best to listen closely to her. He had an idea what she was going to go for, but listening to her voice he couldn't help but wonder out loud. "I hope you don't plan on me just... shoving my hand in fire. I really don't want to have to get another team of gardeners to reconstruct the gardens a second time over." There was a half chuckle at his joke, maybe it was the fresh air and his Mother's company but he was certainly already acting in slightly higher spirits than before. "Hopefully you planned for the eventuality i set myself on fire by accident."
 

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