Yasha Cadera
Mom'alor
So there I am at my party and what do I see? A distinct lack of ice cream. A lack of Sakura Chocolate Ripple Ice Cream: my favourite. What happened to said favourite ice cream? After three weeks of my military intelligence scouts running around in circles, seven meditation sessions peering into the present and past of the Force (complete with nine 'aw I'm sorry you lost your concentration, honey!' pity sex sessions with [member="Mikhail Shorn"] when I got distracted with his lips blowing hot air at my neck and ear), I finally found out what happened to my ice cream.
It got dessert-napped by [member="Spencer Jacobs"]. Now, as Bucket suggested I could buy more ice cream and call it a day. But it's about the principle of the matter! Or something!
To be honest, Bucket bought me more ice cream and I've already eaten an entire box in the amount of time it took me to figure out what happened to the missing dessert. Alas! As I am a complicated and unnervingly emotional sort of being, I can have multiple reasons for coming to Spencer Jacobs and pretending to be in a huff. Okay so my pretending to be in a huff ended up sounding more like a plea.
What? I just got back from telepathically controlling wild zombie flowers with Spencer's wife [member="Ashin Varanin"] and with all the events of the last few months piling together it's time I stood up, took the lessons Ilias Nytrau and Lucien Cordel've been giving me and earn my stripes. I can't always hide behind the strongest person in the room, I can't always exit something unscathed or wrapped in bacta.
So it is, that dressed in loose trousers, a plain long sleeved shirt and my hair tied back in a ponytail down the back of my neck I am much the same looking Anders that Spencer brought to the Fringe from that park bench she found me on over a year ago. "Figured if I'm going to go all out and do this fighting thing, I might as well start with the biggest, baddest super massive weapon in the Galaxy. Besides. . . you ate my ice cream, didn't you!?"
It got dessert-napped by [member="Spencer Jacobs"]. Now, as Bucket suggested I could buy more ice cream and call it a day. But it's about the principle of the matter! Or something!
To be honest, Bucket bought me more ice cream and I've already eaten an entire box in the amount of time it took me to figure out what happened to the missing dessert. Alas! As I am a complicated and unnervingly emotional sort of being, I can have multiple reasons for coming to Spencer Jacobs and pretending to be in a huff. Okay so my pretending to be in a huff ended up sounding more like a plea.
What? I just got back from telepathically controlling wild zombie flowers with Spencer's wife [member="Ashin Varanin"] and with all the events of the last few months piling together it's time I stood up, took the lessons Ilias Nytrau and Lucien Cordel've been giving me and earn my stripes. I can't always hide behind the strongest person in the room, I can't always exit something unscathed or wrapped in bacta.
So it is, that dressed in loose trousers, a plain long sleeved shirt and my hair tied back in a ponytail down the back of my neck I am much the same looking Anders that Spencer brought to the Fringe from that park bench she found me on over a year ago. "Figured if I'm going to go all out and do this fighting thing, I might as well start with the biggest, baddest super massive weapon in the Galaxy. Besides. . . you ate my ice cream, didn't you!?"