Private Elevated Episodes: How I Met Your Mother - Jungle Rehash

[Quietus]

[On Thral. Remember our bet?]

[That you'd ride me senseless if I killed Sagey in under an hour? ]​

[...no.]
[Try again.]

[ ]
[ ugh no. what is it ]​

[If I can grow this tree within a month, we have dinner with your mother.]

[UGH NO]​

[Ugh yes.]

[ we can talk abt this ]
[ what do you want ]
[ new ship ]​

[We can...but you already agreed.]
[What is it the kids say now ... no takems backems?]

[ idk you got the kids not me ]​

[Yeah but you're closer to their age group.]

[ feth u ]​

[If you insist.]

[in the new tree?]​

[It's going to happen eventually, why not?]

[im so glad we agree so lets just skip the dinner and get straight to it ]​

[We have a month yet. There's plenty of time for dinner.]

[ur breakin my heart smalls]​

[I can make a glue for that out of a few of these plants...]

[its thral its gonna kill me des]
[pls]
[think]​

[You'll be fine.]
[I've tested it on some tree-shits and most of them lived.]

[no tree sex for those that compare their LOVERS to tree-shits >:[ ]​

[What kind of food does your mother like?]

[idk]
[pie i guess]​

[Feth, I haven't baked anything in centuries.]

[oh wow really]
[ur gonna bake for my mother before me]
[wow]​

[You have literally never asked me to bake for you.]
[Ever.]

[she didnt either!]
[omg i cant beleive this]​

[This is different.]
[I need her to like me so she invites us back.]

[why do u care]​

[So I can show you how.]

[...]
seen 20:14
[im going to bed]
[txt me when u need me]​

 

[Aver Brand]

The last five days of travel to Thral (out of ten) were always the longest. That was life off the beaten hyperlane for you.

Aver uncrossed her legs and slipped gamely out of the chair, out of the cockpit, and towards the airlock. The hiss of atmospheric reentry was a familiar tune, and she could almost taste the humidity on her tongue as she waited for the landing.

The ramp rolled out and the mercenary with it, a gleaming smile plastered and frozen on her features as the waterfall spray dispersed and she actually, truly took in the size of the ‘tree’.

Oh kark me that’s some bullshet cheating.

She pointed an accusatory finger in the direction of her mate even as her legs began moving her towards the hint of stairs just peeking out of the shadows among the knotted roots.

Trust Qui to take a monstrosity that could pass for a mountain as inspiration for her new home.

Fething size queen.

 

[Quietus]

Treehome was a massive thing. The kind that made itself a living wonder of the world. From the ground to the very top of the canopy it was beyond what one could see standing from the base, high enough that the greenery of the branches could be lost and found within the mists of the nearby waterfall if you stood there long enough.

It wasn't anywhere near finished - not by a long shot. The steps Aver could see lead to the first of what would become several outboard dwellings and living spaces on the crust of the great trunk. In time, the trunk itself would become the walls of the main homestead. For now, it was simply hollow halls of magic growth.

Quietus was on the roof of the dwelling, unrolling reams of long, broad leaves tied upon lashes of vine. They served as a makeshift roof when layered up the slope - something Aver would recognize from quick patches on the previous tree home when time or supplies were short for a full repair. There was a storm brewing on the horizon and she meant to have a roof over her head and at the very least a hammock to sleep in before the sun dipped below the horizon.

Above her head the screeching of the bastards sent a flurry of other smaller birds exploding into the sky. Aver's flying mount swung out from the canopy and into the open air to greet her.

Somewhere along the water's edge Shai dozed along a flat boulder in the open sun.

 

[Aver Brand]

A sensible person would’ve had the good, well, sense to flatten themselves on the ground when a screaming bastard came a-swooping.

Or at the very least duck.

Aver, naturally, decided that the best course of action was to instead mount the screeching beast as it made to land. With the heavy thunder of broad wings expanding the pair took to the skies over the edge of the plateau. The hard flips would’ve turned a lesser stomach inside out, but the mercenary had already had the unenviable experience of clutching at her entrails as they literally threatened to spill, and this was not it.

When their flight path finally evened out enough to enjoy the sights, Aver righted herself and took in the giant tree from her lofty vantage point. It was the sprawled Shai, tongue lolling out in the heat, that drew her eye first.

But the ice blues then invariably found their green counterparts, even through the blooming canopy and the fine mist rolling in from the waterfall. She could feel those eyes boring into her half the galaxy away.

At her urging, Selvie sailed lower in gentle loops, until finally Aver all but stepped off its arched back and onto the roof.

“Well…”

The mercenary stood there in all her glory, t-shirt and sweatpants and hair mussed from a long space jaunt. She made a show of casting her gaze about the abode before retrieving her hands from her pockets to indulge a truly theatrical sigh.

“...I know when I’m beat.” Her mouth quirked to the side as she abandoned the posturing in favor of helping her mate set up for the evening.

Still cheating, though.

 

[Quietus]

Those green eyes had tracked her progress through the sky while she worked, a smile pushing up into her cheeks at the jubilance of the other woman's heart. Say what she would about her preference for technology and the grit of Point Nadir, Aver was never this happy there. Not like this.

She continued about her work, rolling out fresh layers of bundled leaves along the girding of the roof. Sweat dripped down her face and off her chin, her skin dewy from the mists beneath the cover of her robes. Still couldn't be out in direct sun, and even Aver might pick up on the use of the Force to help her endure, warding off the affliction of her raging sun allergy.

Silently, Qui glanced over as her mate deposited upon the far end of the thatching and said her piece. She grinned and said nothing, her amusement evident enough across their link. Her warmth at Aver's return as well. She was glad to have her company again, and her help. The storm was rumbling across the far south horizon, dark and looming and rumbling in its fervor. Qui modeled the rigging attachment of vines, knotting it in the open for Aver to see, then tossed her a roll of leaves to start the next row down.

They'd have this done in no time at all.

Later...

The cooking fire in the mud stove churned a pot of broth while Quietus cleaned, cut, and peeled root vegetables to pass off to Aver to chop. Into the pot they went.

Eight nests in all around the outside of the trunk, Qui explained her plans for the development of the tree, the inside of the trunk mostly hollow, with interconnecting layers and levels of veins running across. Still thinking about what all to include...

 

[Aver Brand]

You’d think a pair of avowed carnivores would turn their noses up at beets.

The proprietor of the most expansive and expensive chain of haute cuisine restaurants all across the galaxy begged to differ. She’d’ve suggested slow-cooking them in an oven to a buttery consistency with a fine honey glaze, but the technology of this place was…

“Limited.” Aver twirled her knife at their surroundings, then more pointedly at the stove.

Well, ‘stove’. Proving her point, here.

“You didn’t forget about my genius idea, right?” She arched a brow at her mate before appropriating the blade as a crude drawing tool, etching a sketch into one of the fireside stones.

“Moon-slash-sunbathing terrace up here. And…” Aver expanded the drawing to include the nearby waterfall, “I’mma put a hydropowered generator upstream. For y’know, a proper kitchen, and an antenna that can actually pick up holonet, and for defensive measures obviously, and…” the mercenary flashed a coup-de-grace grin at her mate, “for that fancy forge you wanna build.”

 

[Quietus]

Quietus raised a nonplussed brow at the woman, diligently working at peeling while she listened. There was a measure of faint amusement to the arc of her brow. Seemed her mate had bigger ideas for treehome than originally planned. An installation for communique and holofeed had been the only necessity listed before ... what seemed forever ago but had only been about two years.

Now there was to be a real kitchen, defensive measures, fancy forge?

I have all the technology I want, she replied with a smirk, at my condo on Coruscant.

Unless of course you are intending to live here on a more ... permanent basis. Then I suppose we can come to some kind of compromise.

 

[Aver Brand]

The victorious smirk immediately soured into a scowl.

She plunged the knife into the dirt next to the stove and crossed her arms. It was a defensive pose, hackles raised like Shai was wont to do when faced with something exceptionally unappealing.

Aver knew it. Qui knew it. Even Puppy knew it, sprawled unconscious as she was in the cool shade of the mountain.

A red tongue peeked out to wet red lips.

“Like a more permanent basis wouldn’t drive at least one of us insane?” She arched a retaliatory brow, meeting those smug greens head on. “What would I do all day, anyway? You?”

“And I can’t exactly run a crime empire from halfway across the galaxy.”

The last one was a bit of a copout, though. There were only about two and a half people in the organization that knew she was the boss. Her physical presence on Nadir was more a matter of convenience and practicality than anything else.

 

[Quietus]

Quietus gave the woman a facial shrug as she picked up a fresh root vegetable, topped and tailed it, then flushed it in a basin of clean water, It's a big planet. You've never been bored here before.

Aver had spent extended stays on Thral with her in a much, much, much smaller treehome. Much as they had shared time together, they also had their own things they liked to do. Aver and Selvie were often out exploring the landscape from the skies. Quietus spent a good deal of time foraging, crafting, and creating the things she needed to survive out here.

It was quiet out here, in its own right, but just as dangerous. They both knew that well enough.

We can build you your own dwelling on the tree if you like.

She finely chopped the plant and scraped the pieces into a bowl, moving to take up another.

Or not. It's your choice, of course.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver made a face. “First time for everything.”

Not that Qui wasn’t making some sense. She was just loath to admit it. On the other hand, if she did, she’d have a grand excuse to then go wipe the inevitable smug smirk off her face. Preferably with—

“My own?” Her eyes flicked from the chicken scratch back to her mate. “What’d be the point of that? If I’m here, I’m here for… mm.”

Aver cleared her throat and leaned back on her hands. The crackling fire put her on the edge of comfort, but once night rolled in and the humidity drained from the mountains, she’d appreciate its soft warmth.

After a few moments of thoughtful lip-chewing, Aver nudged Qui with her foot.

Do you want me to?

 

[Quietus]

Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk.

A rhythm had formed of chopping. The blade falling in precise succession before skating across the wooden board, adding the slices to the bowl. One more should do it. Qui picked up the last of the root plants, topped and tailed it, rinsed it in the water basin, then went to work chopping since Aver was so keen to ignore her chopping duties by carving pictures into the stone.

She shrugged, Doesn't hurt to have a place of your own. Make what you want of it, get away when you need space.

Well, she could do that by leaving the planet, too, but that was rather dramatic for simple annoyances or want to be alone for a time.

Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk.

The last of the pieces were swiped into the bowl and the bowl offered to Aver to add to the pot being that she was closer.

Do you want me to?

Qui retook her seat at a small wooden table and picked up a metal cup filled with ... uh, something Aver had poured earlier. Probably whisky, if she had to guess. Des didn't drink enough alcohol to really know the difference of the dark liquors by taste alone. She narrowed her eyes faintly at the question, wincing slightly at the burn in her throat before quietly setting the cup down beside her.

Of course I do, she replied with no guilty tone of admitting something she'd been hiding. Quietus had thought that had been quite clear all along. But I also want you to want to on your own. You still have things you want to do out in the galaxy, I'm not going to ask you to give that up.

 

[Aver Brand]

Her (borrowed) knife scraped idly at the rough doodle as she listened to Qui work. It was the essence of peace she’d only just glimpsed some twenty-odd years prior, mellowed by sten smoke and tamed with ripe fruit hand-fed by a beautiful woman.

She took the bowl in silence and dutifully overturned its contents into the boiling pot. Despite her token protests, Aver couldn’t deny the smell of stew was starting to tickle her tastebuds.

Probably the fault of whatever fresh cut of meat Qui had slipped into the broth first thing.

Aver grinned as she turned just in time to catch her mate scowling into the egregiously expensive dram of whiskey in her hands.

“I’m afraid,” she said, because there really was no way around it. Blue eyes flicked up, then to the side, to watch dusk wrap its pastel cloak over the misty horizon. Thankfully, the faint amusement still clung to the curve of her lips.

“I got no idea what I’d do with myself in retirement.”

That is to say, Ygdris had never known a time where her hands were idle – and the ways Aver could pick up the slack weren’t particularly appealing.

But she’d tried very hard to avoid thinking about that.

 

[Quietus]

I'm afraid.

That line alone caught her attention. How long had it been now? Nearly 30 years? Taken three decades to get the woman to come to terms with her own self and feel confident enough, comfortable enough in her presence to admit such a thing without fear of judgement.

Ten years ago this would have been an argument that eventually lead to that painful, resentful admission.

Twenty years ago this would have taken an entire evening of soul-searching in the dreamscape without any promise of revelation.

Any longer? It wouldn't have been said at all because Aver would have refused to acknowledge anything of the sort.

Des tilted, a look of droll understanding, not entirely void of a simple amusement at the current state of her mate. Gods how much she'd grown emotionally. Plus there was something very attractive about the merc in her vacation-clothes. Bit like putting a sunhat on Shai and calling her cuddly.

She offered a hand in the open air, a gesture of wanting to give the woman support, comfort, and also simply wanting to more easily squeeze her rear without having to move, No one said you had to have everything figured out right now. And retirement doesn't mean you stop doing things completely. I still run the Beastiary, I've simply moved the main bulk of the operations on to someone else.

 

[Aver Brand]

They shared the look of dry amusement for long seconds, and Aver felt her lips quirking into a smile all of their own. The funniest thing was, it didn’t even feel like a bodily betrayal – she had kept a much, much tighter rein on her expressions, once, but that seemed like (and was) lifetimes ago.

She accepted the gesture of invitation with her own firm grip, pulling herself from her cross-legged perch next to the fire. The movement brought them flush, and her smile turned sharper as she caught the glint in those green eyes. Retirement be damned, the Queen of the Wilds never lurked too deep under the surface.

And if she did say so herself, Aver was rather adept at coaxing her out.

Yes, darling, but the Bestiary ain’t exactly a crime syndicate. There ain’t a whole lotta people I can delegate onto before one of ‘em tries to clean me up afterwards. Although…

Aver made a show of surveying the rustle and growl of the jungles below (and the skies above, and the plains further beyond the trees, and… well, you get the picture), then tapped the side of her nose with a barely restrained smirk.

“Thral prob’ly is the best retirement spot if you’re expecting lots of… visitors.”

 

[Quietus]

An arm looped around the mercenary's middle and a nuzzle was given to whatever body part happened to be within range. An arm or, as luck often had it, a breast. The Queen of the Jungle smirked into the material of Aver's shirt, arm tugging her closer just because.

Maybe not, maybe so. What happened to your brother? Can't you delegate to him?

 

[Aver Brand]

A rough snort escaped her as she rested her chin on the crown of a platinum head. Qui repaid her by snuggling her cleavage, and all was well in the world.

“My brother,” Aver sharpened that word to a fine point, “would rather blow his brains out on my desk than sit behind it.”

 

[Quietus]

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown? she wondered, smirking to herself as she reached for a piece of dried fruit in a bowl nearby, Or is leading not his style?

 

[Aver Brand]

Broad shoulders rolled into a shrug, and Aver replied on a sigh. “Fuck if I know.”

She released her mate to steal her glass from the table, downing the amber dregs on her way to check on the stew. Wouldn’t do to let all that delicious meat stick to the pot and get burned.

“I think he just hates the place,” she said, crouching to inhale the spice and game wafting above the fire. Blue eyes found green over her shoulder as Aver half-turned, mouth twisted into a pensive pout.

“How did you deal with it?”

The memory of a Beastia returning from the summary execution of a rebellious tribe leader was far from unwelcome. Warpaint drawn in the heat of bloodshed, the smell of fire and iron clinging to bone-armor and tattoos, the calloused hands that fell upon her with the same fervor they would wield a knife…

Aver released a low breath.

“The… crown thing, I mean.”

 

[Quietus]

Quietus was content to recline where she sat, quietly chewing dried fruit and listening for her mate's reply. Slow days in retirement, everything from conversations to cooking, hunting to maintaining her home and needs. Nothing would hurry her now except, perhaps, one of the ravenous beasts of Thral. Living this, she was not want to urge an answer out of Aver, much like she never had been. The Mercenary was a creature of her own design on every possible level. Not one to be bent or broken, or even ushered into answers she wasn't feeling forthcoming to give.

So she waited, tuning in to the sound of the woman's heartbeat while she tuned in to the scent of their dinner over the fire.

I think he just hates the place.

Can you really blame him? a faint brow lifted. Nadir was as unwelcoming, if not moreso, than Thral. There the residents were packed like fish in a tin, peak violence levels of compaction. Here, at the least, the violence was in an effort of natural balance.

The reticent woman made a sound of thought.

Which one? she returned with a smirk. Desdemona Shamalain had worn many crowns throughout her lifetime, each a different animal from the one before.

I made sure I had people I could count on working beneath me. People I knew would carry out my orders without fail. When they failed they were replaced, but I was never without. Made all the difference.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver directed a good-natured eyeroll at her mate over the hissing firepit, the corner of her mouth stubbornly quirked upwards despite the blonde’s antics.

That, it seemed, was quite permanent.

Don’t sound much different from me, then. She gave a good swirl to the broth, then brought up a spoonful for a quick taste-test. Bumkark nowhere or not, Aver would eat her boot before cooking subpar food.

How long were you Beastia for? Elected leaders were for chumps. Did you ever have any real competition?