Private Way Back Home

[Yuri Maji]

She moved to get around his attack and the Hound followed along, twisting and turning to avoid whatever lock she wanted to put him in. With her wrist still in his grasp, he twisted her hand up and around while his jetpack let him dance around her. She fell for the trap. His vambrace burst to life once again to bathe the banshee in roaring fire at point blank.

His blaster fired once again, but Peace also fell to the ground as Yuri moved to try and finish her off. No more tricks or gadgets, a simple durasteel fist repeatedly hurled at her helmet and unarmoured side. His right arm let go of her wrist to lunge forward and lock around her waist. "Don't pass the blame, sis, I taught you to fight. Not karkin' make a scene." He snarled amidst another punch.

Beskar scraped against Beskar as Yuri tried to close the distance, all in an effort to get a good grasp around her. His jetpack flared up, an attempt at blasting forward with Vara still held close. A tree stood tall just a stone's throw away.

A mistake.

For the briefest second, Yuri's mind left the fight. His visor facing hers, golden eyes peered past the armour into her crimson gaze. A mixture of pride and something else he never expected to feel around her.

Fear.

It wasn't as if he was holding back, she was simply more capable than she was almost a year ago. She was keeping up without him needing to hold back. She was fierce.

His grasp weakened and his punching seized, his relax in posture slowed the jetpack. For the briefest second, he stopped seeing a helpless stray on a space station and instead saw a warrior.

A distraction at a critical moment.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Goodbye Raven​

She had him right where she wanted.

But so did the Hound.

The realisation came a heartbeat too late. Yuri pivoted free before the lock could bite down. His vambrace came around with him. The flamer sputtered.

Kark!

Fire flooded her vision. Vara twisted hard away, presenting as little of herself as she could while their strength met between locked arms. She forced the burning gauntlet farther from her while wrenching at the wrist he'd trapped.

Then another shot rang.

Not of her own.

The bolt slammed into her, hammering through to her ribs. The Foundling reeled back a step. But her target never left her glare. With the advantage on his side, he moved. Instantly she raised her guard. His knuckles glanced from her vambraces in the next beat.

But his onslaught was yet to end.

The howl of his jetpack cut through the din. Crimsons widened. Blaster snapped onto him as she readied herself for the impact. The weapon bucked in her grip with every pull of the trigger. But the bolts did little to hold him back.

Pain set every nerve alight as the Hound dove shoulder first into her gut. Her grip around the pistol vanished. Snow caught it, as her heels dug into the icy soil. Soles scraped across the ground. The snow exploded in their wake as his knuckles found purchase into her ribs.

"Don't pass the blame, sis, I taught you to fight. Not karkin' make a scene." He snarled amidst another punch.

He was met with a snarl thirsty for his blood. Vara answered in kind, her jetpack barking as she drove into him. Steel rasped against steel. Knuckles pistoned to his flanks while elbows hammered down across his back, each strike meant to break the lock around her. Momentum finally caught up with them both, bringing them to a stalemate just short of the tree.

The Foundling glared back at him, as though her eyes pierced the Hound’s crimson visor. Murder. And for a fleeting second, she felt him shift. A lull.

…He wavered.

Did he allow her to triumph..?

... No. No he couldn’t!

How DARE he!?

Crimsons blew wide in murderous rage. Her head coiled back, and snapped onto his faceplate in a flash. In one fluid motion, she drove her knee into his gut. <”You stopped!”> One last pair of explosive tipped knee-darts shot forth in the same breath to blow him off her.

The single thought consumed reason.

She refused to let him breathe. Her jetpack screamed, hurling her skyward. <”YOU STOPPED!”> The frenzied cry cut through the din while she shot down towards him in the next beat. Shoulder first, she drove into his gut, taking him down with her to bury into the frozen ground.

HOW DARE HE!?

 

[Yuri Maji]

The mutt was in love. Of all the messed up things he had done in his life, he never thought that a beatdown from his girl would bring him bliss in a twisted way. He was smiling behind his visor, at least until he received a knee into his gut and an explosive sendoff that drove what little breath in his lungs out with a violent yelp.

<”You stopped!”>

Her words managed to pierce through the ringing in his ears, through the desperate coughs and wheezes as Yuri plowed into the ground. His hesitation made her mad, brought him back into the fight, though he was at a severe disadvantage. Glancing up, he saw her barrelling down toward him once more. A pistol laid close, but too far for him to reach in time. His jetpack refused to respond to his orders and he used up almost all of the non-lethal weapons at his disposal.

There was only one last option.

She collided with the Hound, sparks flying where their armour skidded and locked. His cuirass drove into his chest, halting any chance he had of recovering his breath while they skidded through the snow. His only weapon remaining was the one he kept for emergencies. A spiteful weapon conveniently perfect to refuse her the win she was so close to achieving.

A spiteful weapon for a spiteful mutt.

His vambrace tilted and came to life, only there was no fire or shockwave to send her flying back. A spray coated over the both of them, liquid carbonite that hardened immediately upon contact to freeze the two mutts together in their awkward fight. His left arm was trapped around her neck and her shoulder fused to his armour. He wasn't sure how much of it caught her, but Yuri was almost entirely immobilised. He only had one last option. A grenade was plucked free with his remaining hand and detonated next to both of them.

The resulting flash, concussive blast and piercing explosion rattled his insides and blew past the active protection of his armour. Figures danced across his vision and his ears throbbed. In the midst of it all, through the coughing and groaning, a bloodied smile stretched across his maw.

One last spiteful trick to get on her nerves.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Goodbye Raven​

The pines. The snow. The cold. Everything faded away.

Save for him.

The icy soil rushed up to meet them. Snow billowed around them as they carved a trench through the earth, and ground to a halt. The thruster-flames of her jetpack died out. The Foundling rose. No quarter. Her cuirass scraped against his armor plates as she straightened, clawing her way up to his chest in a breath.

Her legs clamped mercilessly at his flanks, while her knuckles snapped forward. Sparks tore from her knuckle guards with every strike against the Hound’s faceplate. Warmth pooled inside her palms with every blow. Her knuckles burned in sharp protest, almost debilitating, but the pain fell on deaf ears. <”YOU!”> Another jab, straight onto his jaw. <”STOPPED!”> Her palm shot open. Digits clamped around his throat in one breath. She withdrew her other arm at the same time, coiling back for another blow. <”FIGHT! BACK!”> War. He wanted this.

Her fist pistoned down. Her howl echoed in the forest. Guttural and delirious.

And finally, he was stirred to fight back.

The subtle twitch at the corner of her vision. He raised a hand towards him. She swung without hesitation. Her vambrace clattered against his in the same beat, while her grip around his throat tightened. Dark gray liquid spewed from the muzzle in the next breath. Liquid Carbonite! A grumble rolled from her throat while she angled herself away.

The shift in balance was enough to put him into a brief advantage.

The spray coated one part of her before she could scatter. His hand, wrapped around the back of her neck and across her shoulders, hardened. Crimsons darted back onto his visor. Her annunciator rattled with a snarl. High pitched. Irritated. Her right arm refused to obey her desire to strike.

Then, she heard it.

Through the ringing in her ears. The distinct countdown of a thermal detonator. Her head snapped toward his right hand. Instantly her left hand followed. Time did not slow. On the contrary. Every breath and every beat quickened as the back of her hand slapped away the grenade.

Then-...

Another boom sent a shock through the pines. A trunk groaned in protest, splintering as it crashed.

A yelp escaped her as pain engulfed every part of her at the same time. Air tore through her locs. Sky and snow traded places in a violent blur. Neither meant anything anymore. Her back struck first. Then again. And again. The impacts drove the breath out of her lungs. Snow burst around her. The momentum carried her another length before she ground to a halt.

For a moment, there was only the silence of the cool night. Peace settled over the trees.

But not her heart.

The Foundling’s annunciator crackled with a groan. Crimsons fluttered under the visor. She felt copper in her mouth. Runes shone at the corner of her vision. Alerts. Cautions. Like the forest around her, they ceased to matter the moment her eyes found him.

The Hound. On his back. <”Bastard…”> Words smaller than a whisper left her. She dragged herself by the forearms. Her legs, they refused to listen. But her arms, she still held command over. One claw after the other, the Hound drew closer. A trail of blood followed after her. Soon he was finally within her reach. Fingers curled around everything she could grab on to hoist herself atop him. Straps of his thigh plates. Belt loops. His bandolier.

Finally.

A permanent snarl etched onto her maw. Her cuirass scraped over his before her back straightened. Hands snaked towards his throat. Digits curled around him in the next shallow breath. Weakly. She squeezed. Not even enough to bruise. A breath left her, as her shoulders sagged. Head bowed. Eyes stared blankly at his crimson visor, for what felt like an eternity. Their bated breath the only sound between them in the otherwise silent night.

At last, peace soothed the rage in her heart.

Vara shifted. A hand reached for her belt. Slowly, as though she had broken every bone in her body. She felt the pouch – where her IFAK would be – but it felt empty. Of course. she only had her pistols on her, when she had stripped out of her armor the first time she got home. With a grumble, she reached for the Hound’s warbelt.

Stims… Where the kark was his stims.

He needed them more than she did.

 

[Yuri Maji]

He would have preferred to not be wearing a helmet at all with all the punches hurled at him. Every hit drove his visor and faceplate back into his face. But his gambit worked. The grenade spooked her enough to turn her attention away from him. The only problem in his plan was the devastating explosion that sent them both flying.

Any movement brought waves of pain across his body, but their fight wasn't over. Luckily the blast did him a massive favour. As Vara crawled towards him, he crawled away to find his saving grace in the snow. By the time she reached him and straightened out, her hand curled around his throat, the barrel of her own pistol was pressed into her side. A weak laugh echoed from the Hound, his finger curled around the trigger. "Bang." He muttered, laying back and tossing the pistol aside.

The fight was over. Their gear was spent and their bodies protested with every movement. They were going to be stiff as a board for the next few days.

She searched around his body, presumably for his medpack if he had to hazard a guess. "Ya know... ya don't need to pretend to feel me up." He teased with a hoarse cough. His lungs were still fighting to get air back into his body. They were both caked in carbonite, dirt and scorch marks from their battle.

Their war was over.

A shaky hand reached up to grip her helmet and pull it up. He wanted to see her. A host of corny lines were at the ready as he stared up at her. "You punch like a padawan." He grunted, falling back again to laugh at his own teasing.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

He Was a Good Stalker​

And it was a wrap.

The muzzle pressed into her flank, steel colder than the wind against a body already aflame with pain. She stilled. The only sound left was their breathing, shallow and labored. She readied herself, but the pain never came.

"Bang." He muttered, laying back and tossing the pistol aside.

Her annunciator crackled. A puff of breath cut the silence. The cold kiss of the muzzle shifted from her flank. She shook her head as he laid back down into the snow and tossed the pistol away. A chuckle escaped her. She leaned closer, still feeling along his warbelt for the IFAK. The meds. They both needed them now more than anything.

"Ya know... ya don't need to pretend to feel me up." He teased with a hoarse cough.

The Hound stole a giggle from her. Regret followed instantly. The Foundling felt her core seize, barely holding back a cough. Maw snapped shut, her eyes followed a beat after. New aches made themselves known with every breath. <”Just checkin’ out what I broke.”> Vara teased back. The pain was starting to become unbearable. She moved her fingers gingerly along his warbelt. The smallest twitch sent fresh fire racing through her hands.

Finally, she found what she sought.

Digits softly curled around a pair of stims. She carefully pulled her hand free from the pouch. In the next breath, she leaned closer. Keeping herself upright atop him became more effort than it was worth. Her cuirass settled against his with a soft scrape.

The Foundling reached up. A hand gently wrapped around the Hound's neck, keeping him steady, while the other prepped the stim. In the next breath, the needle found his neck. The auto-injector hissed softly a moment after. Relief would find Yuri almost instantly.

She watched him reach up afterwards. Hands grasped for her helmet. She stilled, allowing him. Runes in her vision slowly faded away. Snow crunched gently as the ground caught the helmet. Kestri’s bone chill felt sweeter than before against her fur. Pain numbed. Crimsons sought the Hound’s gaze, cutting past his visor. Vara's lips slowly peeled back to a wide grin. Blood trickled from the corner of her maw, staining her fangs crimson.

"You punch like a padawan." He grunted, falling back again to laugh at his own teasing.

She flung away the used auto-injector. ”’N’ y’keep hidin’ behind the muzzle flash.” She shook her head, chuckling. Slowly, she straightened. The Foundling brought up the other stim to her own neck. A breath poured from her lips in the next. Pain began to dull almost instantly. The spent injector vanished into the snow after she flung it away.

Her weight shifted. Vara collapsed right beside him, eyes staring up at the starry night sky. Fingers brushed along the Hound’s. Her hand closed around his almost absentmindedly, despite the small sting in her cut open palms under the gauntlet. ”... Toldja I’d getcha one day,” She finally said, breaking the silence. She turned her head, facing him with a smile. ”So, same time same place tomorrow?”

 

[Yuri Maji]

The stim was welcomed with a smile and a pleasant sigh as the medicine got to work almost immediately. It wouldn't do much for their muscles the next day, but at least it would patch up whatever they sprained or fractured in their little quarrel. Vara finally rolled off him after injecting her own stim. He couldn't help but give a weak laugh at her retort. "Keep tellin' yourself that." He muttered with a chuckle.

Her hand snaked around his and his own grasp tightened. The silence rang in his ears and the snow gently coated both of them as they simply laid in the open field. Vara was first to break the silence, a scoff answered her as Yuri forced himself to sit up. "Darlin', if you can even move your shebs outta bed, I'll personally paint Jaig Eyes on your helmet." He teased. With a heavy grunt he rose from the ground and pulled Vara along. "Night's comin' in. Come on. Still got an evening to ourselves." He remarked, wandering off to collect his pistols and whatever else got left behind in the fight.

Groans and grunts followed every movement, from their walk to the ships to his armour getting tossed in a pile in his room. The winds picked up outside the freighter as the moon crept higher into the air. The body glove was traded for a simple shirt and shorts, but not before he caught a warm shower to ease the aches in his body. Surprisingly, he didn't feel like he was hurt as badly as Vara, but he still didn't feel great.

Finally warmed up, freshened up and feeling somewhat better, his full attention was turned to Vara. The wounds on her hands, bruises that needed patching, an extra painkiller was quickly forced in before Yuri finally allowed himself to relax.

Standing in front of the kitchenette, Yuri rested his hands on his hips and looked around. The options were endless on how they could end their evening. "So... what's on the menu first?" He asked, sparing a glance at Vara with a warm smile.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Кукушка​

A groan escaped her maw. Pushing through the pain, the Foundling sat up after Yuri.

"Darlin', if you can even move your shebs outta bed, I'll personally paint Jaig Eyes on your helmet." He teased.

”Y’promise?” Her head tilted to the side, curling up a brow. The usual edge of her lopsided grin adorned her lips. Crimsons held the Hound’s gaze. ”Cuz I’ll karkin’ do it,” a chuckle rolled from her throat. The bruising and the aching felt like an afterthought. The snow crunched as he slowly forced himself up to his feet. She watched him turn to her, while Vara mustered her own strength to stand in the meantime.

He reached out, palm outstretched. Hers slapped into it without hesitation, fingers curling around his. Heels dug into the icy ground as Vara rose more under her own strength than his. A shudder wracked through her before her muscles finally obeyed.

"Night's comin' in. Come on. Still got an evening to ourselves."

The Foundling nodded. She turned with a small pivot and went to collect her helmet from the ground. It quickly settled under her arm. Her blasters were next. Gunmetal rasped against leather before sheathing into her holsters.

She fell in after Yuri a heartbeat after.

Every step sent a wave of flame racing through her nerves. A grunt left her, despite the stim and despite her tolerance. Thankfully, their freighter wasn’t far. The durasteel clattered softly under her soles with every step. She cleared the ramp. The snow was behind them now. A flick of the switch, the ramp rose with a shudder. A gentle groan rang through the steel as hydraulics hissed. And in the next beat, the cold and the outside world was no more.

Her cuirass rose in a deep pull of breath. A sigh left her in the next. Eyes drifted towards the galley, before looking down and settling onto herself. Snow. Mud. Carbon scoring. Scratches. Her grin widened, eyes darting toward Yuri. His beskar’gam painted a similar canvas.

They had really put each other through hell.

Yuri disappeared into their room. Vara followed a beat after. She set to work helping him undo his armor first. Shared groans and pained snarls filled the room as buckles and straps came loose, one by one. Undone, the beskar'gam clattered into a pile in the corner. His bodyglove followed soon after, unceremoniously draped over the pile. Only then did she turn to her own armor as the shower hissed to life.

Plates clattered against each other as her own pile of equipment formed in another corner. A zipper whirred. She peeled free of her bodyglove, leaving it strewn across the floor. She flung a clean pair of black short shorts and a striped one-shoulder crop top on their bed. She turned, heading for the shower to join him. Cloth shuffled softly as she undid the gauze wrapping up both her hands. Soaked in a fresh coat of her blood, she flung the gauze into the bin, and turned toward the shower to join him.

A deep breath left her under the hot water. Eyes dimmed. Muscles, taut as a drawn bowstring, finally relaxed for the first time since morning. Refreshed, clean, and feeling like a living being again, she stepped out, drying herself with a towel before slipping into her clothes.

It wasn’t for long before the Hound was on top of her with fresh gauze and meds. Her snout scrunched as a puff left her, reaching for a bacta-laced bandage. ”M’fine.” She urged him, but he had none of it. He’d never. Her smile broadened. She happily accepted another shot of stims into her neck.

Pain became less than an afterthought.

Another breath left her. Calm at last. At peace. Wounds wrapped and treated, she joined him, her bare footfalls carried her to the kitchen alongside Yuri. Eyes darted from cupboard to cupboard, in search of something.

"So... what's on the menu first?" He asked, sparing a glance at Vara with a warm smile.

An ear flicked. She turned, crimson eyes finding Yuri’s. ”... Think you’d do jus’fine.” with a deliberate stride, the gap between them was reduced to nothing. Arms curled behind the back of his neck as Vara pulled him into a deep kiss. She lingered, unwilling to be the first to pull away, but her lungs wouldn’t allow it. A tender chirp, she broke the seal of their lips, craving for more.

Always more.

”... But on a more serious note,” She began, keeping him in her embrace. ”I’m fiendin’ for a steak. ‘N’ y’know jus’how t’do ‘em right.” She smiled at him, warmth blooming behind tired crimson eyes. ”I’ll set the table,” She leaned in, a quick kiss against his cheek. She held him as long as the moment allowed her, before she eventually pulled away.

The Foundling drifted towards a cupboard. She reached for a bottle. Tihaar - they could use something stronger than the black ale. Two glasses followed in the next beat. ”So how’d I do? No bullchit. Tell me straight.”

 

[Yuri Maji]

She wasn't getting away from him and she knew it. He didn't relax until he knew she was bandaged up and taken care of. Only then could the two of them relax... that was the plan, at least. He barely had time to register her words before she lunged at him. A grunt slipped as he was pressed against the countertop, but he didn't mind the sudden affection. His hands snaked around, one sliding up her back while the other curled around to hold her close in their kiss.

They only withdrew once they ran out of breath, but the Hound didn't let go. A warm smile was adorned as Vara expressed her desire for a proper steak, a sentiment Yuri's stomach immediately agreed on. "No need to tell me twice..." He muttered, tilting his head as she planted a kiss on his cheek. His hands slid down to pick her up and set her down on the counter as a volley of shallow breaths caressed her neck. He held her close, breathing in the ozone, soap and earth with her scent.

Peace.

Within and without, Yuri hugged her close as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. For a few moments he didn't move, he merely held her against him until his stomach spurred him on to get going. Gently setting Vara down, he gave a wordless gesture to the fridge while he got to work on prepping the kitchen. Ingredients were important, but a beer was exactly what they needed for the immediate future... except she seemed to have a better idea.

He watched her pour the Tihaar with impatience, licking his chops at the prospect before getting to work.

”So how’d I do? No bullchit. Tell me straight.”

He paused from picking out the spices. "What, beatin' me to a pulp ain't a good enough indicator?" He remarked with a smile, continuing with his duties. "Ya fight like hell. I don't expect you to be karkin' Jango Fett already. But you fight good. Year or two more and you'll be a supercommando." He spoke with sincerity as the meat was seasoned and the stove heated. "... You're a karkin' banshee, though." He teased with a laugh, turning his durasteel shoulder to her in case a punch came flying.

Fries were cut and dropped into a pot to fry. In the meantime, Yuri nursed his drink as he leaned against the counter. "You fight good. But you need to keep your temper in check. I don't mean, like, not gettin' the blood pumping. But... don't let anger blind you. Some good Jedi advice, right there." He tipped his glass at her in salute before taking a long sip.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Кукушка​

She couldn’t get her eyes off him.

Every pulse of warm breath against the gentle bend of her neck left the Foundling wanting more. It was never enough. She hardly restrained herself from meeting him with the violence he’d come to expect of her, yet he had mercilessly thrust her into a dilemma: which hunger to sate first? Each felt equally pressing. Essential, like water and air.

But everything had a time and place.

The sizzling in the pan threaded into her focus. Her snout scrunched as she took in the mouthwatering scent of the meat with greedy pulls of breath. Her mouth watered. A soft sound escaped her. The moan melted away with the heat of the pan. It was almost too tempting to steal a raw steak just to satiate her hunger.

But the thought disappeared as quickly as it came.

Drinks. They needed drinks first.

"What, beatin' me to a pulp ain't a good enough indicator?" He remarked with a smile, continuing with his duties. "Ya fight like hell. I don't expect you to be karkin' Jango Fett already. But you fight good. Year or two more and you'll be a supercommando." He spoke with sincerity as the meat was seasoned and the stove heated.

Vara nodded along at the Hound as she set to work. The bottoms of the glasses met the counter. Digits curled around the cork. A quick tug, and it cleared with a wet squeak. She tipped the bottle, generously pouring two shots. The banshee slid one glass his way while her hand closed around the other.

"... You're a karkin' banshee, though." He teased with a laugh, turning his durasteel shoulder to her in case a punch came flying.

Yuri was very right to angle himself.

Her lips peeled back, blood-slick fangs in open view in her crooked smile. Her fist struck him in one heartbeat, knuckles glancing off his durasteel shoulder as a cackle ripped from her throat. ”’N’ yous still a bitchass!” His opener was still fresh in her mind. The Hound had expertly ambushed her. Dirty. Underhanded.

"You fight good. But you need to keep your temper in check. I don't mean, like, not gettin' the blood pumping. But... don't let anger blind you. Some good Jedi advice, right there." He tipped his glass at her in salute before taking a long sip.

Without a thought, the Wardog tipped her drink at him and brought it to her lips. Her head cocked back, the bitter spirit trailed down her throat in a single swig. The empty glass clattered against the steel counter in the next beat. ”Jedi,” The Foundling scoffed, pouring herself another shot. ”The kark they know anyway?” The clear spirit sloshed around the glass in her grasp. She pushed it to her lips, knocking back the drink in one go. A satisfied breath left her. ”Karkin’ holier-than-thou, goody-two-shoes, useless whoresons if y’ask me.” She reached for a cupboard. Plates clattered softly in one hand, the cutlery wrapped in the other. She pivoted toward the galley table behind them. ”The Sith are prancin’ ‘round the Core, ‘n’ where they be? She giggled, setting the dinner plates down. The cutlery flanked them on either side.

Vara returned to the kitchenette with haste afterwards. She couldn’t just let him do all the heavy lifting. She had to help. She swung open the fridge and grabbed for some veggies. The lid swung shut with a kick of her feet. She rinsed them beneath the tap. They met the chopping board in the next beat.

Drops of water dampened the vibrant green of the lettuce leaves. With one strike she chopped and flung away the stem. ”Y’feelin like ice cream for dessert?” The knife sang in the same breath, the large leaves reduced to thin stripes. Finished, they settled in a serving bowl. Onions, severed in half, cut into slices thinner than the back of the knife before they joined the lettuce. The carrots, peeled, were shredded through the grater in a moment. A drizzle of olive oil, generous squeeze of lemon and a splash of dib roman, and it was ready.

She wiped her hands on a towel, careful not to leave stains on the fresh bandages around her knuckles. She took the bowl to the table, the bottle and her glass in hand, and settled. ”Y’better be usin’ that fond,” Vara chuckled. Her remark was almost entirely unnecessary, but the words left her before she could stop herself.

Vara watched him plate the steaks and fries before carrying them over. Her smile grew larger as he finally joined her. Hungrily she reached for her cutlery the second he set the plate before her, and scarfed down a helping of fries. A slice of the steak disappeared in her maw. A feast of flavor.

Juicy. Well seasoned. Tantalizing. Perfectly seared on all sides.

And rare.

Just the way she liked.

Her eyelids dimmed. Vara spoke no words for a moment, simply taking a second to enjoy his cooking as she chewed. She swallowed with an audible gulp a breath after. A satisfied groan left her. She helped herself to another cut, but not before dipping her fork into the salad bowl for a quick helping. ”... So. Maw and fangs. Doezzat mean I’m an official Ironworks employee now?” She finally asked. The question had been gnawing at the back of her mind since the afternoon, ever since he left that signet on her right pauldron. ”Let’s talk salary. Yer gettin’ it if it’s anywhere near the minimum wage by the way.” her cackle rose in the galley.

 

[Yuri Maji]

The Hound's snout scrounged at Vara's dismissal. She wasn't necessarily wrong in her judgement of the Jedi, but she also didn't know the caliber of Jedi Yuri dealt with in the past. The caliber he was still dealing with in the present day. He didn't press the matter, the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their delightful evening with politics and personal stances.

They had far more pressing matters to take care of...

”Y’feelin like ice cream for dessert?”

Yuri gave a scoff. "We'll see if there's time for dessert." He quipped, sparing a smile as he looked to Vara while she prepared a quick salad for them. A short while later, their food was plated up and carried to the table. Yuri cleared his shot glass with a sigh and slid it over for Vara to refill while he took his seat and admired the feast they were about to enjoy. Vara didn't waste time to put a dent in her plate, she was the more uncivilised one between them.

In comparison, Yuri calmly cut away at his meal and scooped a serving of the salad before taking a few savouring bites. For a few quiet moments, there was simply the bliss of their succulent meal. A groan of satisfaction accompanied Vara's own. She went on to ask about the gaping jaws on her new armour, drawing a pause from Yuri for a few moments. "Oh no, nothin' that grand. Ya gotta send your resume like the rest of us." He teased, taking another mouthful of chips.

"Nah, it's... something different." He set his cutlery down and took a sip of Tihaar. "I've been thinking... I'm tired of bein' a clanless stray. I ain't gonna claim Ma's old name, not after what they did to her... and to me. So I've been thinkin'... I want to make a clan of my own. And I'd like if you'd be part of it." He explained gently. It wasn't marriage, though an outsider could likely not understand the difference. It even felt weird to the Hound. "I don't care if it's just us. But... I'm tired of not belonging. And nobody can claim our allegiance when we built ourselves up. I'd rather us be a clan of two than swear fealty to an Alor I don't care about." He explained with sincerity, idly spinning his glass on the table.

He picked up his utensils and resumed his meal. "Just something to think about." He shrugged, swallowing another bite of his steak.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Кукушка​

She was doing that thing again.

Scarfing down her meal as if the Devil was hot on her heels. A habit harder to break than an atom.

The realization dawned on her. She forced herself to a halt. Her cutlery gently clattered on the plate. Her hands clasped together as she leaned on her elbows. Her glance slipped away from his golden gaze, eyelids closing. A small breath left her as she slowly chewed the last bite she took.

It took great effort to not give in to that old instinct.

But after today, she could at least try.

The Hound’s teasing raised a chuckle from her. A resume! She could only hope he didn’t require referrals. Way too many to list and remember. Then his tone shifted. Her ears flicked, her cackling died down as he finally began to satiate her curiosity, and with the seriousness it deserved.

"Nah, it's... something different." He set his cutlery down and took a sip of Tihaar.

Crimsons settled upon gold. Arms folded over the table as her head tilted to the side.

She knew it.

Details like these rarely escaped her. But even so, she needed him to say it. To declare it.

"I've been thinking... I'm tired of bein' a clanless stray. I ain't gonna claim Ma's old name, not after what they did to her... and to me. So I've been thinkin'... I want to make a clan of my own. And I'd like if you'd be part of it." He explained gently.

His words, softer than silk. She slowly reached for her glass, her eyes never once leaving him. The clear spirit swirled before settling as still as a midnight breath. After a moment of deliberation, the glass found her lips. She pushed it back. The burn she came to love found her instantly. The empty glass settled back on the table with a soft thud.

"I don't care if it's just us. But... I'm tired of not belonging. And nobody can claim our allegiance when we built ourselves up. I'd rather us be a clan of two than swear fealty to an Alor I don't care about." He explained with sincerity, idly spinning his glass on the table.

He picked up his utensils and resumed his meal. "Just something to think about." He shrugged, swallowing another bite of his steak.

Her grasp closed around the bottle. She tipped it down to her glass. A generous shot filled it, before filling the Hound’s. The bottle sat with a muffled clack against the table. A breath left Vara. Just something to think about. His words echoed in her mind. Silence grew. So did her smile. Lips peeled back to reveal her rippers. Blood-stained fangs flashed at him.

Just something to think about.

His remark was entirely unnecessary, and the Hound knew.

Her head shook as though unbelieving of his words, even when she knew full well that it was happening. Misbegotten amongst their kind, no longer. Without identity, no more. Neither of them. The Son of the Traitor, and the Little Survivor. A hearth of two, their flames would burn ever strong, and their blades never dull. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her chuckle cut the silence between them, bereft of the usual sardonic edge. In its stead was bristling warmth. ”’Where do I send my resume again?” Vara teased, leaning forward. Cutlery clattered against the plate. She forked a bite from her steak to her maw. ”Mmh-.. 'N' my insurance better be coverin’ dental, too.” her cackle echoed in the galley. She shook her head, chewing.

But the hilarity wasn’t in her jokes and teasing. One moment, they had yearned for each other. In the next, they tore each other apart with words, and then literally in the next. And now? Now they were one under a banner. A banner of their own.

They were the furthest thing from normal.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her cutlery finally returned to her grasp. She lingered over every bite, stretching the meal for as long as she could. By the time Vara finished her plate, Yuri had done the same. Cutlery clattered sharply against porcelain. ”C’mere.” Vara rose from her seat. In one stride the gap between them was reduced to nothing. She pulled him, arms wrapped close around him, careful not to strain the bruises against his ribs. Breath pulsed along the bend of his neck. Every pull left her desperate for another, as though his scent drove the air out of her.

Her breath trailed to his muzzle. She cradled his face in her hand. Her snout brushed at his handsome features, nuzzling at his cheek. ”... What did you say ‘bout dessert again?” Her lopsided grin drew wider apart. Fangs bared. Not with a menace, but with the promise of violence he came to expect from her.

Even the smallest reciprocation, and she’d pounce.

 

[Yuri Maji]

She didn't need to answer with words. The moment he noticed the glint in her eyes, he already had his answer. As Vara chuckled, Yuri would snicker along at the strange situation. Barely an hour ago, they were killing each other. Now they were starting their own clan. And he was loving every moment of this wild ride.

Picking at what remained of his food, Yuri scoffed at her request for insurance. "The kark ya need dental for? You can afford toothpaste, can't ya?" He teased with a chortle. By the time he finished with his meal, she finished as well. It was silly of her to slow down so much, he knew she was a fast eater. But that was a discussion for another day, they had more pressing matters to sort out. She drew him from his seat and wrapped her arms around. His returned the gesture, curling around the small or her back to hold her tightly against him. Her nose flared against his neck and his teeth found her ear for a teasing nip.

"... Think you'd do just fine." He answered, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. His hands slid down, hoisting her straddling form against him as he trailed kisses and nibbles along her cheek and neck. She wasn't some vulnerable, weak stray anymore. She was a warrior. More than that, she was his strength.

With a bit of effort, Yuri managed to open their bedroom door and squeezed through, refusing to put her down or let her escape. They still had a lot to work through, even more to do before the fleet moved on. But for now? They had each other, and they had a few days to themselves.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Icy Plains, Forests
TAG: Yuri Maji

Кукушка​

And he set her off.

The second his fangs nipped at the peak of her ear, she snapped deeper into his warmth. A growl rolled from her throat as her maw parted, lips searing against the Hound’s in the same moment. Words pressed behind her fangs – a tease of her own, meant to indulge Yuri’s. But it never came. Crimsons dimmed instead. Every inhale of him only deepened the craving for the next, like a drug she never wanted to quit. Everything around her melted away in their shared warmth, except for him. His touch wrung out a gasp of breath, setting her hide ablaze in its wake as he snaked toward the small of her back, and then lower.

He swept the floor beneath her feet with one tug. Her legs wrapped around his waist in a heartbeat, her chest pressed flush against his. Her digits fanned and raked the Hound’s fur as she caressed him in return. Claws traced the dips and scars she had committed to memory long ago. Her lips parted not even for a second from his. A murmur rolled from her throat. They failed to resemble words as the doors to their bedroom finally parted.

She counted his steps, eventually coming to a halt before the bed. She tipped her weight back then. The hard mattress caught them. A giggle rolled from her throat. The Foundling writhed under him, chuckling. Eyes fluttered open, and she met him with strength. She rolled with him in a leg-lock. He swung, now trapped under her against the sheets. The seal of their lips finally broke in a wet chirp. Her palms pressed against his broad chest, locs and her long flowing mane spilled down to his visage as her breath hovered just a hand’s breadth away.

A smile split her maw.

Warmth swelled from her eyes. He meant more to her than he could ever truly grasp. He was beyond a name. Beyond a man. Beyond kin.

He was the one she’d live for, for dying was all too easy.

As though to consecrate the silent vow, she closed in. Her touch hurriedly shifted to the hem of his shirt as her lips melted against his once again. Their oaths to the Covenant, the war, the Sith… None of it mattered. There was only him, and the quiet certainty they now truly shared the same fire before the same hearth.

She was finally home.

/End thread.