Amea Virou
Snowbound
The warmth of fire pushed against her skin and the heat of alcohol pressed against her insides. One of the sensations was a familiar feeling and the other one something new. Once more it was that time in the galaxy when another galactic year came to an end. It was usually a time of the year when Amea found herself alone, bottle-deep into a night of remorse and bad companion choices with a void to be filled by someone else. But this end-of-the-year was different. It was hopeful, exciting, and because of that, also utterly terrifying. The last few months had been a ride she hadn’t expected to be taken on, an exercise in trust and weakness. It was a danger, her brain told her. It was overdue, her heart screamed louder than her brain ever could. But the truth of the matter was, that in the end, Amea head found herself...
A relationship.
With a Corellian whiskey in hand, Amea went over a couple of photographs from the other day. The same smile that had spread on her lips at the start of the day’s celebrations still lingered as she thumbed it over. There was no denying that she was still drunk, in fact she was positively miserable and far gone, but she still wouldn’t have traded her current spot for anything else in the galaxy. Her throat swelled for a moment as she held back the joy and swallowed hard to calm herself down. In that very moment, one of the most beautiful women in the known galaxy slumbered in her lap. A burning hot tear cracked through Amea’s defenses before she wiped it away. None followed it.
On her screen lingered a photo of the two for far longer than the rest of the images. It was a little something they had picked up together, asked of a stranger to capture for them while they were at a market. In the shot there were just the two of them. Amea had her lips planted against Evelyn’s cheek as the camera immortalized the moment of what could undoubtedly be described as an Echani in a state of surprise.
No doubt, it felt odd to admit that she had grown softer in the days since they had met. From how Evelyn had pulled through to Amea, aided her when she didn’t dare turn to anyone else. The amount of trust — faith — that she had in this Echani was a welcome change, but that didn’t make it feel any less odd to her.
Amea pulled the pad closer to her face with a slow nod. This would be the one. She put down a small text on the image and slowly lowered the pad again. Her eyes set on the ceiling as she realized just exactly how cheesy this was, but some small part of her needed to do this. It felt right, almost. With her newfound courage and sense of social desperation she filled in the recipient, one Loske Matson.
Amea let out a frustrated sigh for a moment. Oh, right, Treicolt.
The moment of truth dawned upon her then as she let her thumb hover over the send button. Her eyes set on the lights from the pad. It was such a small and mundane thing to do, just a push of a button to let a friend know that she was still alive and kicking. And yet she had to worry. Would it come across as a bad thing or some sort of brag? Was Amea ready to take the step closer towards being some sort of… Normal person? The prospect seemed almost intimidating.
Yet again her eyes set on the ceiling. Amea could open fire on a Sith Lord without hesitation or regard for her own well-being. She could insult and challenge another such lord despite having a clear disadvantage at the cost of her hand. And yet, the idea of sending a small virtual message to a friend — someone she trusted at that — seemed so insurmountable. A long sigh blew from her nose and she let her body let the tension go. Her shoulder sunk, her arms fell down, and her thumb...
Her thumb accidentally nudged against the send key. Amea’s attention fell from above and down onto the pad again. A brief moment of horror froze her in place before she eased up to let the sting wash away under a thin layer of cold sweats. As she looked at the woman in her lap she realized that it didn’t matter. She had someone that would see her through this and anything else that happened. Someone that had the means to destroy her so completely and yet time after time again had chosen not to. Her hand swept through Evelyn’s hair. Maybe that was the part that scared her, she made Amea care less, and yet she some how cared more than ever.
This Life Day, for the first time in her admitedly short conscious lifespan, was one that she wanted to remember. To have that small glimmer of light, even if this whole thing would end up where most other attempts at something like it had ended up. It was the hope and the fear rolled up into one, and yet for now all that she could do was kick back and enjoy the ride. The pad was muted and she deposited it upon a nearby table. She had a sofa to fall asleep on, with the most wonderful person that she could think to share it with.
Evelyn Shaw
Loske Treicolt
A relationship.
With a Corellian whiskey in hand, Amea went over a couple of photographs from the other day. The same smile that had spread on her lips at the start of the day’s celebrations still lingered as she thumbed it over. There was no denying that she was still drunk, in fact she was positively miserable and far gone, but she still wouldn’t have traded her current spot for anything else in the galaxy. Her throat swelled for a moment as she held back the joy and swallowed hard to calm herself down. In that very moment, one of the most beautiful women in the known galaxy slumbered in her lap. A burning hot tear cracked through Amea’s defenses before she wiped it away. None followed it.
On her screen lingered a photo of the two for far longer than the rest of the images. It was a little something they had picked up together, asked of a stranger to capture for them while they were at a market. In the shot there were just the two of them. Amea had her lips planted against Evelyn’s cheek as the camera immortalized the moment of what could undoubtedly be described as an Echani in a state of surprise.
No doubt, it felt odd to admit that she had grown softer in the days since they had met. From how Evelyn had pulled through to Amea, aided her when she didn’t dare turn to anyone else. The amount of trust — faith — that she had in this Echani was a welcome change, but that didn’t make it feel any less odd to her.
Amea pulled the pad closer to her face with a slow nod. This would be the one. She put down a small text on the image and slowly lowered the pad again. Her eyes set on the ceiling as she realized just exactly how cheesy this was, but some small part of her needed to do this. It felt right, almost. With her newfound courage and sense of social desperation she filled in the recipient, one Loske Matson.
Amea let out a frustrated sigh for a moment. Oh, right, Treicolt.
The moment of truth dawned upon her then as she let her thumb hover over the send button. Her eyes set on the lights from the pad. It was such a small and mundane thing to do, just a push of a button to let a friend know that she was still alive and kicking. And yet she had to worry. Would it come across as a bad thing or some sort of brag? Was Amea ready to take the step closer towards being some sort of… Normal person? The prospect seemed almost intimidating.
Yet again her eyes set on the ceiling. Amea could open fire on a Sith Lord without hesitation or regard for her own well-being. She could insult and challenge another such lord despite having a clear disadvantage at the cost of her hand. And yet, the idea of sending a small virtual message to a friend — someone she trusted at that — seemed so insurmountable. A long sigh blew from her nose and she let her body let the tension go. Her shoulder sunk, her arms fell down, and her thumb...
Her thumb accidentally nudged against the send key. Amea’s attention fell from above and down onto the pad again. A brief moment of horror froze her in place before she eased up to let the sting wash away under a thin layer of cold sweats. As she looked at the woman in her lap she realized that it didn’t matter. She had someone that would see her through this and anything else that happened. Someone that had the means to destroy her so completely and yet time after time again had chosen not to. Her hand swept through Evelyn’s hair. Maybe that was the part that scared her, she made Amea care less, and yet she some how cared more than ever.
This Life Day, for the first time in her admitedly short conscious lifespan, was one that she wanted to remember. To have that small glimmer of light, even if this whole thing would end up where most other attempts at something like it had ended up. It was the hope and the fear rolled up into one, and yet for now all that she could do was kick back and enjoy the ride. The pad was muted and she deposited it upon a nearby table. She had a sofa to fall asleep on, with the most wonderful person that she could think to share it with.
Evelyn Shaw
Loske Treicolt