Oil & Water
Location: Little Atrisia tea shop-- Courscant
Tag: Ishida Ashina
Sometimes Jem worried she was slipping. She wasn't. It was just a fear in the back of her mind; an itch of the darkness she was learning to live with. Everyone had insecurities, right? She had expected knighthood to fix that, but that had been a load of banta chit. Knighthood had not been a magic pill. Knighthood had changed nothing but the expectation that she start doing chit solo.
That's called trust.
Sometimes she didn't want that trust. Sometimes she wanted to be on Denon, bumping elbows in the thick smog of bacon grease if it just meant she had someone at her back again.
Reaching out was just so hard.
The holo message "Hi." was over due. She reasoned to herself that Ishida would understand. They had never been particularly close, and the space between them had felt more like a respect of her privacy than neglect . That understanding was part of why she like Ishida in the first place. Still, with the attempt floating out in the holosphere a worry intruded upon her thoughts, picking up pace as the cursor blinked at her. ...What if she had delayed a little too long in facing her? What if Ishida was done?
She sat in a bubble of tense vulnerability. And then a message came back.
"Hello."
~~~
Jem wasn't dressed for a tea shop. Dirt-stained jeans and a leathered jacket hardly spoke of class, but it screamed of a familiar slum-fighting investigator with its order patches and embossings. Jem lowered herself uncomfortably at the immaculately set table. "Erm," she squirmed, holding both arms over the place settings. She kept them there, afraid of breaking something as the server tucked her chair in.
"Thank you...?"
Tag: Ishida Ashina
Sometimes Jem worried she was slipping. She wasn't. It was just a fear in the back of her mind; an itch of the darkness she was learning to live with. Everyone had insecurities, right? She had expected knighthood to fix that, but that had been a load of banta chit. Knighthood had not been a magic pill. Knighthood had changed nothing but the expectation that she start doing chit solo.
That's called trust.
Sometimes she didn't want that trust. Sometimes she wanted to be on Denon, bumping elbows in the thick smog of bacon grease if it just meant she had someone at her back again.
Reaching out was just so hard.
The holo message "Hi." was over due. She reasoned to herself that Ishida would understand. They had never been particularly close, and the space between them had felt more like a respect of her privacy than neglect . That understanding was part of why she like Ishida in the first place. Still, with the attempt floating out in the holosphere a worry intruded upon her thoughts, picking up pace as the cursor blinked at her. ...What if she had delayed a little too long in facing her? What if Ishida was done?
She sat in a bubble of tense vulnerability. And then a message came back.
"Hello."
~~~
Jem wasn't dressed for a tea shop. Dirt-stained jeans and a leathered jacket hardly spoke of class, but it screamed of a familiar slum-fighting investigator with its order patches and embossings. Jem lowered herself uncomfortably at the immaculately set table. "Erm," she squirmed, holding both arms over the place settings. She kept them there, afraid of breaking something as the server tucked her chair in.
"Thank you...?"
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