Private The Good Fam [Gûdjoti]

[Qora Tel Alam]

Space
Aboard The Good Ship
In-Transit to The Good Place
Rolin Doan Venyxa Tel Alam Isar Iren Tel Alam Artas Tel Alam Moksh Tel Alam


How exciting! A new member for the family! A young pup that they could help teach and train to his greatest potential! Qora was practically humming with enthusiasm and had to be reminded by Artas not to smother the boy too much, lest she scare him away. So Qora controlled that overpowering maternal instinct to coddle and instead turned it to one of her favorite pasttimes: providing for her Tel Alams with delicious homecooked meals.

So there she was, making-do with the meager selection of ingredients in the small kitchenette, whipping up one of the fam's favorite. They'd set Rolin up with his own room, and though he'd arrived into their midst with very little, she intended to provide him every opportunity she could to get the young man all the things he needed.

But first - dinner!

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolin was filled with…mixed emotions, to say the least, replaying the last 24 hours in his head, over and over again, still trying to come into terms with what the hell happened. First, he was ordered to scout ahead and locate the location of the ritual taken place, and assist in stopping it. Second, he attempted to assist the kriffing heiress to the Eternal Empire herself, only to be knocked around by the sith present, and ridiculed by said heiress. Thirdly, she just poofed out of existence, leaving him alone with the two sith once again. Which, somehow, ended up with him being given the good old "join or die" ultimatum.

Which brought him…here. To an old, rundown ship that looks like a potato surrounded by six sith who, according to them, want to teach him and "see just how much potential he's got".

By all accounts? It doesn't make sense.

Sitting at the edge of the bed of his new room, which he still is in shock of, Rolin sighed, patting the head of Buddy, who sat loyally at his side. Well, not like the droid really had too much of a choice in that matter. They were programmed to be loyal, no matter what. Never to leave Rolins side.

Rolins hand froze. Loyal. The thought of what he should do still plagued him, especially now that the threat of being impaled by a siths blade wasn't currently present. Well, it still was, but not immediately. They took all communication devices from him, unsurprising, and even took them out of Buddy. The most he could do now was wait, and attempt to make the most of the situation. The first thing would be gaining information. He knew they were aligned with the Maw, but didn't know of what tribe or allied order they were a part of. Hell, he didn't even know their names!

Rolin glanced at the door, considering finding one of the sith and simply ask, but quickly dismissed the idea. If one thing as an Initiate to a Knight Warden taught him anything, it was to obey orders. He had no doubt the Sith had even harsher rules and mandates. So he will simply sit and wait to be called upon, at the ready for whatever is to come.

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

The stew set to simmer, Qora left the kitchenette to make the rounds of the ship. Most of the others were catching up on lost sleep or busy with other things. Iren with his pets and study, Ven with filing her nails and preening, Dal with some spice-induced fever dream, Artas with working out or perhaps some meditation, Moksh with ... well, whatever it is Moksh does in his free time. Lately he'd been quite intent on the radio - curious lad.

So without anyone to stop her for whatever silly reason they deemed fit, Qora made her way to the room provided to Rolin and lightly knocked on the door before opening it. There were no locks on this ship that could keep her out. As Rolin would soon come to learn, the ship was Qora and Qora was the ship. Her bright electric eyes beamed at him within the doorway, dark lips cutting a smile that to any other Tel Alam would register as warmth. To a stranger unaccustomed to her ways? Poisoned honey.

"Hello dear," Qora began gently, folding black-gloved hands at her middle, "all settled in? I hope Venyxa hasn't pilfered all the pillows from the room, she does so love her comforts."

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolins head whipped to the door as soon as he heard the knock at the door, hand rushing to his side to where his lightsaber would normally be, taken for now and promised to be given back if he 'were a good boy' and pushing buddy behind him with his other hand.

Intense electric-blue met hazel, making him feel very small in the confined area with only one exit, of which the Sith was currently standing in front of. Beyond the eyes, he noticed that the sith was oddly beautiful. Her features lacking the darkside corruption he would have expected, as well as any scars, cybernetics, eye patches, or any other identifiers he would associate with a villain. But what was most concerning was the woman's smile. It was one of a predator that knew their prey had no chance of escape.

Rolin sat, rigid, staring at the woman, mouth ajar. Slowly, he closed it, searching for the right words to say at the moment. The words she offered were…oddly polite. Gentle. Rolin was not one to throw common courtesies in someone's face if they were offered, his grandfather at least taught him that much. Even if they were a murderous Sith.

But right now, he wasn't even sure if he should stand or remain seated. And now he has been staring at her for at least a good minute, kriff.

"Um…hello?" Rolin said, more of a question than a greeting. "I'm…fine. There is…" He quickly glanced behind him. "…one pillow?"

There was a beat of silence.

"…how are you?"

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

One pillow. It would suffice.

But if that wasn't a scared little cornered puppy she didn't know what was. Qora's smile softened with momentary endearment, hiding the rising impulse to coddle the boy and let him know he had nothing more to fear. Her gaze swept over him in consideration, eyes honing in on the glint of metal behind him - the droid. Poor dear, having to watch her dismantle the droid to remove the communication array. Qora held no regrets for the act - if it meant the protection of the family then it was a necessity - but she had given him back his droid exactly as it had been before.

Minus a few pieces and parts.

Qora stepped into the room, her lithe frame shifting from the doorway to the small desk area off to the side where she gracefully deposited herself into the chair. There, one long, dark leg folded over the other, she settled her hands in her lap and watched him with her queer smile.

"I am quite well," the woman replied, "and I am very glad to have you aboard our ship, Rolin."

Some sensitive information may or may not have been extracted from his droid during the dismantling process. She could neither confirm nor deny that the information that may or may not have been extracted would be of exceptional use or detriment to certain galactic parties.

"I am Qora and I look after this family. Now that you are here, come hell or supernova, that means I look after you, too. So if you need anything," Qora's eyes drifted momentarily through the empty room, "all you have to do is ask and I will do what I can or what I must."

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolin gaze followed Qora as she moved to the desk area of the room, eyes locked on her form, watching for any subtle movements or deceptions.

Behind him, Buddy peaked from under his arm, optics staring at the woman. If their optics could narrow in distaste, then Buddys no doubt would, feeling quite miffed and 'violated' at being dismantled and worked on by someone that wasn't their master. But the droid did not say anything, not wishing to escalate the situation with any choice words they wanted to share with the sith.

Rolin, unaware of the one sided staring contest, simply blinked at Qoras words. Then his eyes widened. It took a second for the realization to hit him, that she knew his name, and he never once offered it to her. He glanced to the small droid at his side, and, for the first time, was thankful that he was not very high up in the Wardens or Eternal Empire. Any information he knew and that the droid would have seen was of minor consequence in the grand scheme of things, Rolin himself not deemed important enough as of yet. He didn't even want to think of what would happen if word got out that sensitive information leaked because of him.

He failed enough as it was, letting himself be taken by the Sith, the Eternal Empires enemy.

Rolin exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to calm down and not panic, telling himself it wasn't a big deal, and that he wasn't a traitor and still had the chance to redeem himself. To turn this around somehow.

But first, he needed answers, and to earn the Siths trust.

"…Thank you, Qora. I appreciate that. I do have a few questions, if you don't mind? To start, which tribe or order are you? I…know a bit about how the Sith and Maw work, albeit from an outsider's perspective, and some of the Tribes. But I do not recognize anything that would tell me to which you-er, we? Belong to."

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

"Of course."

Qora's smile persisted as she waited with seemingly unending patience for the young man to settle into the fact that he was now having a conversation with a Sith. His struggles, though mostly internal, were something of a breath of fresh air. So many who stood at odds with the Darkside practitioners gave so little chance for discourse or discussion.

Mostly they just rolled into monologues about how they intended to defeat the Darkside. Qora wasn't convinced the majority of those people had any understanding of what they spoke about. How could they if they barely took the time to learn anything but their own agenda? Indoctrinated thought was the same on both sides of the coin, even if it looked different. But the boy was proving himself the exception to the norm.

Bless his youth - they'd not yet fully furnished another close-minded mook.

"We are of the Gûdjoti," she began, expression calm and focused, "it is not a clan you would be familiar with, for we are very few. Our traditions are perhaps not what one might call orthodox, so far as the doctrines of the Sith are concerned, though our goals share some similarities. To be clear, we have no true affiliation with the Maw," Qora's eyes cycled through an occule reset, black overtaking white, pooling blue, illuminating. She blinked and her eyes transitioned back to normal.

"They are simply a convenient ally for our present needs."

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolin nodded along, the situation still very much surreal, but the shock was subsiding, if only a little. The fact that Qora was speaking to him so casually helped. As well as her not being one of the two he faced on Panatha. Almost being skewered and forced to join their ragtag group of Sith proved to put a damper on any potential relationships, apparently.

Rolin paused, however, when he heard that they were apparently a fairly small clan. It was a relief for the immediate future, yes, to not be surrounded by a horde of sith. But for the long run…well, he'd get to it when he got to it, he supposed. He needed to focus on the now. Even if the thought of being branded a traitor still made his stomach churn.

He opened his mouth to reply, to ask another question, most likely what exactly she meant by 'not affiliated with the maw' when her eyes shifted, the whites of her eyes shifting to black, like ink on a blank page, shining a blue light, almost glowing. She then blinked, her eyes returning to their original state, leaving Rolins own wide in surprise.

"…Well, that was…" Pretty, he almost said, but somehow forced his stupid mouth not to. "…Interesting. …how did you do that?" He asked, staring at Qoras eyes, leaning forward, as if waiting for it to happen again, overtaken by curiosity. As well as forgetting what he was going to ask, for the moment.

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

Amusement and a mild hint of surprise. Her family had become so accustomed to the various oddities of her biology that rarely did one remark upon the innate but rather alien involuntary motions through which she lived her life. There was something about his curiosity that struck as terribly endearing.

"It was merely a blink," she offered him with a calm smile, "just not the kind humans are biologically capable of."

A breath, she shifted slightly in her seat before moving to stand and gesturing to the door, which opened without any command at all, "Come, dinner should be just about ready, and you needn't hide in this room like a prisoner."

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolin blinked, uttering a soft 'huh', before settling down. He has never heard of such a thing before, though the galaxy was a very large place. There would be plenty of species and subspecies of all shapes and sizes. Far too many to count, seemingly popping out of nowhere.

Then, at the mention of supper, Rolin's stomach grumbled, suddenly reminding him of the fact that he has not eaten since the night before his mission on Panatha, not having the stomach for any of the nutrient bars before he headed out, anxiety having killed any appetite at the time.

Rolin, face flushing with embarrassment, simply nodded. But then, a thought occurred to him, one that made him stay where he was.

"…will they be there? The other Sith? All at once?"

He wasn't sure if he could take being in an enclosed space with six Sith at once. Qora was polite enough, for the moment at least, sure. But the others? He honestly wasn't so sure about them. Especially the one with the tattoos, whatever his name was. Rolin isn't sure if he even saw the man blink once since he laid eyes on him. And every time Rolin tried to glance at the man, he was staring right back at him. Frankly, it freaked Rolin the hell out.

 

[Moksh Tel Alam]

Kitchen
Qora Tel Alam | Rolin Doan

I would expect it is hard to resent chores when you do not really have anything else you would rather be doing; another life you'd rather be living

An ideal You you'd rather be.

A well-trained dog, the acoustics of pots and pans signaled a break from the mystery that had occupied his moments before, and Moksh filled the void of the now-empty kitchen. He stood beside the pot, naked except for a pair of boxers – his body ripped and ripped apart, scar tissue of darkened grey marred his pale musculature: Animal claws and gunshot wounds. Chemical burns and what was clearly the results of a spiked tank tread wallpapered across his back. It could all tell a story, but not one Moksh knew how to tell.

From what vantage, what perspective would he even tell it?

His boxer shorts were the cartoonish mascot head of the Aldera Fighting Nerfs – a gift from one of the others, perhaps humorous in intention.

Moksh liked the Aldera Fighting Nerfs. They were his favorite team.

Brandishing a chef knife, Moksh grabbed a potato, a radish, a carrot, dicing the vegetable with skill made irritating by the clock-ticking like thump of blade against cutting board, counting half-seconds so every unit of time could be suffered. He could clearly go faster, safely.

But what's the hurry?

Tk, tk, tk, tk

Tk, tk, tk, tk

Tk, tk, tk, tk

Tk, T-

The smell of green onion. Moksh inhaled deeply, audibly.

And lingered in that moment.

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

Qora paused in the doorway, looking back at the young man with some curiosity, "Possibly. They tend to come and go for meals..."

Though she was not am empath, Qora had perhaps an overactive maternal sense of things when it came to her family. Rolin being such a new addition didn't lend well to her intuition with him yet, but it was hard to miss his rising discomfort. To this she smiled, "Of course I can delay the dinner call a bit, but you'll need to acclimate to them all sooner or later. It is a small ship and we are a close bunch."

"Come now," the Sith gently insisted as she made her way out the door and through the ship to the kitchenette, "we do not grow by remaining comfortable."

 

[Iren Tel Alam]

Rolin Doan | Qora Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam

The presence of Rolin was like an irritation in an open wound.

A foreign object.

Something to be extracted and thrown away.

Except that this irritation couldn't be manhandled into comfort. No, instead Iren had to adapt. Luckily this was something the Arkanian was very proficient at. He constantly adapted, changed himself, bettered for difficult days. While he wasn't used to the new addition yet, he'd get used to it... and it wouldn't be long before he'd love Rolin as much as the rest of his siblings.

Probably.

In the kitchen Moksh was cutting the vegetables.

Out of the pantry came Iren. "I got the eggs, but I really think we ought to go fishing soon again." And almost bumped into Qora and presumably Rolin following along soon after.

"Ah, sister, I see you brought our little brother with you. How is he settling in?" Then perhaps realizing it was rude to talk about someone without including them. "How are you doing, lad? Must be quite a shock. And no chained-up torture victims and bloody gore in sight, quite a difference from the propaganda is it not?"

Bemused expression as he led the way towards the kitchen.

 

[Venyxa Tel Alam]

Ven had not been filing her nails and preening.

Well, not just that.

Nor had she pilfered the pillows.

Well... not really. She had taken the pillows from Rolin's room, true, but it wasn't for malevolent purposes. She laundered them while filing her nails and preening, because multitasking (and after discovering that the pillows were not, in fact, a greyish ivory but rather white, she had thrown her pillows into the wash as well) and then brought the pillows back to his room where, it seemed, Qora was trying to take the newcomer to dinner. She paused, arms full of pillows, at the intersection of the hallways.

"He's not remaining comfortable?" she asked, trying to peek her amethyst head over the fluffy, now-white, and clean-smelling pillows and not really managing it. "After I spent hours getting these clean. I mean -- I could take them -- or maybe split with Iren. Or Dal," she added in a hurry before staggering forward towards the door.

"I'm Venyxa," she said by way of introduction as she pushed past Qora down the hallway and then Rolin into his room, pausing to half-offer a handshake before seizing the nearly-dropped pillows to her chest. "And I'm only joking. These are for you. Qora said to make you feel welcome and at first I thought maybe a few packages of Hothy Rolls might be the ticket, but I didn't want the others to get jealous because I don't usually share food -- you should write that down: Venyxa -- that's V-E-N-Y-X-A -- Doesn't Share Food -- I decided to spruce up your cabin instead. Don't worry, the detergent is hypoallergenic and if you don't like the way it smells Iren can give you something for it or probably disable your sense of smell, he's a wizard like that. He even replaced Dal's fingers after he swiped one of my Corellia Cream Pies."

All this was said in one long, gently accented trill, growing ever louder as Qora led the boy away to the kitchenette as she laid the pillows back on Rolin's bed carefully. Finally finished, she caught up with them rapidly, finishing her story about Dal's fingers with a wide-eyed, earnest look that dripped sincerity. "Only joking," Nyx said. "Dal doesn't eat." She looked past Rolin over to Qora. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

Qora Tel Alam | Rolin Doan | Iren Tel Alam | Isar | Moksh Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam​

 

[Rolin Doan]

Rolin watched as Qora made her way out of the room. Then, exhaling out of his nose, he looked down to his side, where Buddy still sat now looking up at their master.

"Well…no sense of staying here, I suppose. Let's go find out what happens next Buddy." Rolin offered the droid his arm, who quickly climbed up and onto Rolin's shoulder, giving the young man a meaningful look.

<Bweep bop bep…>

"Heh. I understand. I don't think id like someone if they took out one of my internal organs either." Rolin said, giving the droid the best grin he could manage at the moment, though it more than likely came out as a grimace.

Rolin hesitated for only a moment more, before slowly leaving the room and out to the small hallway, and following after Qora to the kitchen. But as he took his first step in following the woman, he noticed a small tower of pillows with legs marching towards them. Only for it, or her, to reveal an amethyst forehead, barely able to peak her eyes above the pillows she was currently carrying.

Rolin took small, cautious steps once he saw that Qora was not stopping, looking behind him as he walked, listening to the other woman practically rant as she delved into the room he was staying in, wondering if this is what whip flash felt like.

"I…hello? I, um. Won't take your food? That…would be rude?" Rolin said, hand still slightly risen for the failed handshake.

It was then, while still questioning what even just happened, that Rolin and the two women made it to the kitchen, where the man responsible for him even being here in the first place stood. He stared at the Sith, mouth opening, closing, then opening again.

"…is today a day off from that, then? Do you only torture on the weekends?" Rolin quipped before he could stop himself, closing his mouth with an audible click. While yes, they so far have been hospitable, it probably wasn't a good idea to poke the Sith with a metaphorical stick.

Rolin looked away from Iren, only to meet the cold eyes of the other man he faced off against on Panatha, the one who paralyzed his arm to his chest. He stared for a few moments, unnerved at the mans staring, as well as the fact the man was chopping onions while maintaining eye contact. Rolin, running out of options on where to look, decided that a small corner of the kitchen was particularly interesting. He then quickly glanced back toward the tattoed man, only to see that he was still staring at him with his expressionless face.

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

The ship was busy and crowded and it was exactly the way Qora liked it. All manner of things going on - each member of the Tel Alam making themselves useful in their own way. Moksh dutifully chopping vegetables for the stew, Iren assisting the meal pickings with his own addition, Venyxa seeing to the comfort of their new addition. Qora drank in the energy of their little space-bound hive and relished every moment of it.

Dal and Artas? Who knew. They'd be along when the mood struck.

"One Sith at a time, I suspect," Qora offered to Iren as she gently caught the man and buffeted him on his way to the kitchen, her own stride following shortly after him to see to Moksh in all his scar-riddled, fancy-boxer'ed glory.

"How is this coming along..." she pulled the top off of the pot and wafted the scent of the stew under her nose. Qora may not have made a habit of eating solid food very often, but she had spent an exorbitant amount of time absorbing a lot of digitized cooking classes from the holonet. Cooking was a science and an art - two things she could harness and appreciate, even if she didn't necessarily eat it herself.

Two delicate hands scooped handfuls of chopped veggies from Moksh's pile and into the pot, "Vegetable Stew," she answered Venyxa with a wane smile over her shoulder, "the Moksh Special - do you have more carrots?" electric blue eyes then shifted to Moksh, Qora noted that he was still staring at Rolin. She dipped a spoon into the stew and gently blew on it before offering it for Moksh to taste-test, "A few more would be perfect I think?"

 

[Moksh Tel Alam]

Moksh's cutting ceased. He turned his head suddenly, catching the gaze as the youth threw it at him. It was sudden; taking cues from elsewhere – a dog suddenly focused on a sound heard by nobody else.

He listened to Qora. She was talking to him; talking around him. He could feel the vegetables leave their pile. He didn't have to see it.

The Moksh Special. Moksh's body tensed at the premise.

In his mind, there was a house, and in the house, there was a room where he sat. There was nothing in it.

Except for now…a pile of carrots? Or was it the soup? Was there a person to be found in the shape of vegetable soup?

No, of course not. She was performing. She was creating an illusion of safety for the baby trapped in a den of wolves. There was no Moksh Special. She just wanted to humanize him. She wanted the kid to feel safe.

In his mind, there was a house, and in the house, there was a room. Moksh sat in this room. He was the only thing in it.

Qora would now find that, in that quantum of a moment where her attention diverted to see what Moksh was looking at, Moksh had shifted his eyeline to her. Impossible. Like a sudden, new perception in the rollercoaster ride of a drug trip. It was more like his face formed out of the side of his head more than there was any apparent effort to turn.

His mouth parted as if to speak, the suggestion of a voice in Qora's timbre on the breath that escaped. Moksh had thought to echo something he heard her say to Artas in those intimate moments where they thought they were alone, but then reconsidered. He didn't feel trying to soothe Rolin was appropriate.

"I don't know what to say to make him feel safe."

And maybe he shouldn't. This ship of bastards murdered their master and desecrated the body – an affront to their role as Tomb Knights. Rolin wasn't safe at all.

When Rolin went to look at Moksh again, the padawan would find Moksh's eyes waiting for him like a portrait in a haunted castle.

"I have never brought comfort to anybody."

Moksh blinked, basked in the silence.

Then returned to chopping vegetables.

Tk, tk, tk, tk

He inhaled.

The smell of potato.

Qora Tel Alam | Iren Tel Alam | Isar | Venyxa Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam | Rolin Doan ​

 

[Venyxa Tel Alam]

Venyxa shared a confidential look with Iren Tel Alam , eyes widening slightly at Rolin Doan 's mention of torture, then said in a voice of exaggerated good-nature. "Don't be silly, kiddo, we don't torture people. Not on the ship. Imagine the mess, and Dal has problems with housekeeping as it is. No, no, no."

Ghastly, quas-medical experiments and Sith Alchemy? Perhaps! But these were grey areas as far as Venyxa, if not galactic diplomatic law, were concerned. She went to the cooler and began rummaging through the small collection of wine bottles there. Potatoes and eggs and what else? "Does white work for this?" she Nyx asked over her shoulder before crouching lower. "Got a nice Galidraani Riesling I've been saving for a special occasion. New friends are special enough occasions."

She took the bottle out and took the cooler from the freezer, taking both to the dining area and plopping them down at the table. "Moksh, you didn't even put name cards down. It's as if all that time at finishing school was for nothing."

Qora Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam | Rolin Doan | Iren Tel Alam | Isar | Moksh Tel Alam​