Private Way Back Home

[Yuri Maji]

Kestri | Tor Valum
Tags: Vara Maji

---

Theme​

The Hound awoke to a cold bed and silent house once again, another day of worry after another restless night. When she mentioned going on a light recon mission for training, he didn't expect it to turn into a situation that warranted the entire fleet's appearance. He felt like a coward for not going after them... perhaps he was. A sensible man would've pursued after the fleet to catch up. Done whatever he could to get his girl back home.

But someone had to say behind, make sure there was a home to return to.

After finishing up, he locked his arm in place and left for his shift at the bar. Whenever he wasn't busy at the factory, he was helping out at the tavern to sling drinks and straighten out troublesome customers. A welcome distraction from the shot nerves and heavy heart, even if only for a few minutes. Any hope of receiving comms of Vara's condition was left behind, the fleet wouldn't be answering any calls in a warzone. He feared for the worst, it was simply second nature for the Hound. It always ended badly for him.

A customer dragged him back to reality. An empty smile that didn't reach his eyes was adorned, a joke cracked and a drink dispensed for a table of thirsty warriors. It was a slow morning and it was going to stay slow as long as the fleet was gone. He hated the waiting, even as a child the days, or weeks, spent waiting for his mother to return nearly burnt a hole in his stomach.

Another drink was poured, this time for himself. Something to stir the brain cells awake and tell the heart to shut up. "Another day in paradise..." He grumbled to himself, idly watching the two occupied tables close to the fireplace.

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Shukur Kyr'bes Tavern
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

Shore leave.

First one ever for Vara, and the blasted shuttle just could not land any quicker. The Sundari Memorial Spaceport grew larger in the viewports, yet every second of the otherwise routine descent seemed determined to drag on forever. The sole of her boot tapped the durasteel floor, a tempo growing more and more impatient ever since the planet snapped into view from outer space.

Sitting still was becoming a challenge unlike any other, until a familiar shudder rolled through the shuttle’s frame, following a series of mechanical whirrs and a soft hydraulic hiss somewhere deeper in the ship. The landing struts deployed, and firmly pressed against the landing pad.

The ship’s thrusters began to wind down with a dying whine a moment later.

They were here!

The Harpy bolted up from her seat, her seatbelt undone in a heartbeat. Shooting past her kin, still in the process of getting up from their seats and collecting their belongings from overhead bins and holds, she cut toward the cargo ramp with haste.

Luckily for everyone else aboard, she didn’t have to wait for too long.

Kestri’s bone-chill whipped back her locs and long, black mane. A gentle snowfall began to cling onto her armor. The knee-high Mark of the Hellborn billowed between her thighs with every lash of the wind. She moved, her pace just short of running. The Spaceport became a distant memory with each hurried step.

The city blurred beneath her boots. Before long, Maji Ironworks rose ahead.

The fleabag – her fleabag – had to be in the Ironworks at this time of day. She was growing uncertain by the second as to which gripped her heart the strongest with excitement; seeing the rekindled Warforge in full capacity, producing scores of weapons and gear, or seeing his kissable mug again after what felt like an eternity.

The former was a very close second, but stood no chance against the latter.

A buzz of activity threaded its way to her attention as the Ironworks drew closer with each step. Her footfalls led her through the Ironworks’ open gate. The bristling heat brushed against her armored silhouette as she came to a halt, maw agape under her helmet’s faceplate.

Conveyor belts whirred with purpose, feeding materials to the great forges and on the other end came out weapons, armor and plating in differing – yet orderly – stages of completion. The factory floor was not any less busy. Forge hands moved about, carrying out their assigned tasks of the day to meet ever increasing quotas.

Her gaze shifted to one among them in particular.

Black and brown scorch and soot kissed the man’s armor, particularly focused around the front of his cuirass, gauntlets and the faceplate of his helm. The barrelchested human stood out amongst the rest, built by a lifetime of hammer and steel.

Her lips curled inward and a sharp whistle cut through the din of heavy machinery at the specimen of a man working steel at a lathe. <“Hey! Joe! Where’s he!”> She bellowed over the mechanical whines all around her.

<”Th’ Tavuhn!”> He shouted back, his tone a guttural grumble and groan.

A chuckle poured from her lips. <”Aight! Thanks Joe!”> The broad snapped around, turning to take her leave in a hurry. <”See y’aroun’!”>

<“Alrighuh!”>

The Ironworks disappeared behind her. She cut toward Midtown as streets blurred together; the Broken Skull wasn’t far. Walking quickly proved insufficient. She broke into a sprint. The wind tugged at her mane. The familiar tavern came into view shortly after, and the doors stood before her a moment later. She skidded to a halt just short of barreling through them.

Her heart hammered against her ribs in a dizzying concoction of excitement and exertion. Her breathing sharpened. His familiar, giddy scent reached her snout.

The doors swung open at an impatient push.

She could not wait a second longer.

Her crimson gaze swept the tavern. She found him almost immediately. Behind the counter. Helping himself to a drink. With steps unhurried and measured, she approached.

<”Y’gonna pour me one too? ”> A chuckle rolled from her throat. Gloved hands shot up to the rim of her helm. The seal broke with a soft hiss. Her wind-tousled mane and locs swayed at a shake of her head. Crimsons settled on his mug, wet around the edges. The smile beneath looked entirely too happy for someone trying to play it cool. The dam of emotions in her heart leaked from the cracking timbre of her voice. “Or am I gon’ die of thirst?”


​

 

[Yuri Maji]

The door swung open to draw the attention of all within the tavern, though none of the patrons were as surprised as the Hound when his gaze landed on Vara's form in the door. He paused for a moment, a myriad of emotions taking over as she approached his countertop. Anger, joy, confusion, but surprise was there to stay. He stifled the dumbfounded expression, instead watching her with an unimpressed side-eye in her advance.

<”Y’gonna pour me one too? ”>

“Or am I gon’ die of thirst?”

A scoff escaped past his annoyed frown, though he did take the liberty of pouring a pint of ne'tra gal. "Dunno 'bout thirst. But you'll definitely die of something' if ya slam that door any harder." He remarked, sliding the tankard toward her. He studied her for a moment, golden eyes combing over the various marks and scorches from her most recent escapade. "You bring any souvenirs back with ya at least?" He continued with folded arms and a raised brow.

But the façade couldn't last.

In one motion he slid over the counter and yanked her close for a tight hug. His heart was allowed to finally relax as he held onto Vara for dear life, days of worry and dark thoughts forced aside as he pressed a deep kiss onto her lips. "I have missed you, Cuyan'ika." He muttered softly in her ear, his forehead finding hers with a gentle tap.

She made it home. the curse hadn't reached her just yet.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Shukur Kyr'bes Tavern
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

"Dunno 'bout thirst. But you'll definitely die of something' if ya slam that door any harder." He remarked, sliding the tankard toward her.

Vara met his remark with a snort. ”Shut it, schutta. I be payin’ ma’ bills under our roof,” a cackle softer than silk accompanied her words as she caught the pint with an outstretched palm of her hand. ”I can do whatever I want.” She raised the tankard to her lips. A hefty swig left her breathless, crimsons dimmed while she basked in the sweet taste of the black ale.

The foot of the tankard sat back down on the varnished counter. A breath followed. Her eyes opened, arms folded as she leaned atop the counter on her elbows. Her gaze found him, taking the measure of her. She watched him silently in return. Committing every intimately familiar ridge and dip of his face to memory as if she could ever forget.

"You bring any souvenirs back with ya at least?" He continued with folded arms and a raised brow.

”Just this and some scars.” A hand shifted off the counter, tapping her warbelt. The double sided, knee-high loincloth clung to it by buckle clasps. Borne from a tapestry of various cloths collected from their fallen, an inimitable pattern complimented the honors. She carried herself with a higher level of confidence not before seen.

A curtain of thought dimmed the glint in the Harpy’s eyes then.

Her core shook in the cauldron of her emotions.. Fear. Horror. Anger. Hatred. The uncertainty of battle. Death that loomed behind every corner, poised to take her at any time at the split second blink of a muzzle flash. One slip up was all it took to push up daisies.

…But none of that mattered now.

Not the patrons at the tavern giving them looks in her periphery. Not the crusade they waged. Not the homefront. Not her kin. Not the galaxy.

Nothing.

Save for Yuri.

The glint in Vara’s eyes sharpened. The corners of her maw twitched upward. Her lips peeled back, her golden fang flashed among the neat row of her rippers. Her snout flared with a snort. A chuckle followed, swallowing the glint in her eyes as her laughter roared before she could stop herself. The woman straightened in the same breath Yuri slid over the counter in one motion.

She met him in the middle. With a leap she closed what little distance there was. Her arms snapped shut around him like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning. Her maw parted as she seared her lips against his. The Hound masterfully invaded all of her senses. His warm familiar touch left a blazing trail upon her fur. His scent, a drug of its own, left her desperate for another hit of breath.

It wasn’t enough.

"I have missed you, Cuyan'ika." He muttered softly in her ear, his forehead finding hers with a gentle tap.

Her brow rested against his. She barely stifled a whimper and the tears that threatened to follow. She’d never live it down if she broke in his arms.

Instead, Vara met him the way she knew.

Her hand traced the muscular ridge of his back, mapping details long since committed to memory. Her palm cradled the back of his head. Digits carding through the locks of his mane. Her maw parted. Fangs claimed a small piece of his neck before she soothed the theft with a lingering kiss. She tipped forward. The counter caught his back as she tangled a leg with his. Her lips traced the crook of his neck, lingering for a kiss before settling back on his lips.

Vara drew back after a final smooch, remaining in their shared embrace. The Harpy held his gaze, the fire in her crimson eyes unquenched. ”I don’t want to leave you.”

​

 

[Yuri Maji]

It didn't take long for her to attack with the passion he had come to expect of her. Practically slammed into the counter, she wrapped herself around him and begun with her onslaught upon his senses. Not that he complained for even a moment. His mechanical arm clamped around to ensure no retreat, while his free hand cupped her cheek, caressed her neck and kept her close for a burning kiss.

Finally allowed to catch their breath, Yuri let out a chuckle as he studied her crimson gaze. "Can't leave, anyway. You still owe me money." He teased, trailing a bite and a kiss along her neck. He eventually let go of her, remembering that they weren't alone in the pub, and hopped over the bar to let her finish her drink. He had questions and concerns, but they had to wait until they were alone. For now he was simply relieved that his girl was back in one piece. Taking a sip of his drink, Yuri studied her armour and decorations.

She was different, in more ways than one.

"Finish your drink, I'll call in a favour. Think a soft bed and a warm meal will go a long way right now." He commented, resting against the counter with a warm smile.

After a few minutes, he dipped into the backroom and quickly emerged with a jacket. Wrapping his arm around Vara's waist, he led her out and back to their home. The factory and projects could wait. The whole damned galaxy could wait. He needed to celebrate his own small victory with her return. She was back and in one piece. The reaper lost this time.

He kept her close, teeth scoring a few marks against her neck as he drew her scent with deep breaths. "You karkin' scared me, ya know." He admitted softly. Once home, Yuri took the liberty of helping her strip her armour down and getting another drink in her hand. It was then that his joy subsided with a more serious look. "What happened out there?" He asked gently, watching her carefully.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

Did I Tell You That I Miss You?​

"Can't leave, anyway. You still owe me money." He teased, trailing a bite and a kiss along her neck.

Her amusement flared through her snout in a short huff. “Good,” she murmured, voice meant only for them. “Cuz I ain’t payin’ it off.” A playful glimmer passed through her eyes. His bite wrung a low breath from her. The following kiss soothed the mark of his fangs. A growl hummed from her core. The Harpy pressed him in closer. Her hand cradled and caressed the back of his head. Entangled in his embrace, she kept him there for as long as she could. Even when the moment reached its natural end, her grip refused to loosen immediately. Her hand lingered at the back of his head for a heartbeat longer before she reluctantly allowed the distance to return between them.

The warmth of his embrace lingered long after he slipped back behind the counter. Vara leaned forward, arms folded on the counter. Silence settled between them then, serene and comfortable. She searched for his golden eyes, only to lose herself in them as he studied her in silence.

She reached for her tankard. The rim brought up to her lips, she slowly cocked her head back. The sweet lager slid down her throat at a thirsty sip.

"Finish your drink, I'll call in a favour. Think a soft bed and a warm meal will go a long way right now." He commented, resting against the counter with a warm smile.

She drew the tankard away. A flick of the tongue, she lapped away the layer of foam on her lips. ”Now you’re talkin’ my language.” Warmth cradled the edge of her voice. ”Go on. Don’t take too long,” She tipped her head to the side, lips curling to a grin as she watched him.

Her words sent him to disappear at the back-of-the-house a moment later.

By the time of his return, her tankard long sat empty on the counter. She beamed with a smile. The warmth of his touch found its familiar place around her waist. Her helmet tucked under her arm, she draped the other across his broad, muscular shoulders as she walked out with him.

The winter chill lashed at them. She remained close, sharing her warmth with him. The Harpy’s pace slowed before she came to a standstill; the heat of his breath hovered dangerously close to her neck. Her black, flowing mane stood on end at his draws of breath. A breath misted before her lidded eyes.

She barely reigned herself from launching another onslaught at him.

"You karkin' scared me, ya know." He admitted softly.

She turned to him with a pivot. ”Believe me, I wanted to let you know I was fine,” Her free hand cradled his cheek. Her eyes settled on Yuri, and the world beyond him faded into irrelevance. ”But we weren’t allowed to. OPSEC, babe. Y’know how it goes…” The conversation carried them the rest of the way home.

By the time they crossed the threshold, Kestri’s bonechill and the city felt a world away. Her helm and armor plates neatly lined their sofa’s seat cushions. She tied her bodyglove around her waist by the sleeves, and sat down on a couch. Yuri slipped a glass in her hand before the back rest even caught her. ”Bless your hands,” she flashed him a smile as he settled in front of her.

Then came the inevitable question.

"What happened out there?" He asked gently, watching her carefully.

She didn’t speak a word at first.

The Harpy pulled the glass to her lips and knocked back the drink in one go. The liquor slid down her throat with a familiar burn. The empty glass clinked as she set it on the coffee table before her – a glass pane mounted atop the bonewhite skull of a creature she could never name.

Her gaze lingered on the cranium before finding Yuri’s eyes. “We bled,” she shrugged. “That’s what.” The edge of her voice came sharper than she’d like. A sigh puffed from her lips. She leaned forward after a moment, hands clasped between her knees. ”They found us out. Dunno how, but they did. An’ it all went t’Hell real quick,” She began the retelling. ”Reggie an’ I-... We was at this tank factory. Scopin’ it out, lookin’ for some intel inside. Loads of Imps there, the same ones from Coruscant,” She cast a nod towards the Stormtrooper helmet while her gaze refused to budge off his. A trophy from his Ma’s days. ”An’ at first, it was just them, until they sprung the trap.”

”...Found a way to a server room. Terminals ‘n’ chit – exactly what we was lookin’ fo’.” Her tone then took a sharp turn, growing heated with each syllable. ”He came outta nowhere, babe. Caught me off-guard an’ he-...” Her head snapped away from him, averting her gaze. She paused. Her palm wiped down the bridge of her nose and mouth. She shook her head. ”Felt the saber cut right through me,” The words caught in her throat. Her eyes settled back on him, widened. ”Quick scrap with that scughole. Couldn’t nail him, either of us. We got outta there-... in some, fightin’ retreat...” the memory lingered in the silence between them.

And that had only been the tank factory.

But that was only the beginning.

​

 

[Yuri Maji]

The joy and affection didn't take long to slip away in the wake of Yuri's question. Seated across from Vara, he lit a cigarette for her and passed it on before lighting his own as he listened to the start of her story. Her beer was emptied in the blink of an eye for some liquid courage, Yuri's golden eyes watched every small movement she made and his ears perked to hear every word.

He could already tall that it was simply the start of the mess, yet it all went gloriously south almost immediately. He knew the song and dance of covert operations, sometimes a job simply went south. It happened more than anyone would care to admit. What he didn't understand was how it turned into such a mess that the Fleet had to be deployed.

His eyes shifted to her body in search of any wounds, though it seemed that she took care of herself on her way back.

The Hound motioned for her to continue as he took their empty bottles and retreated to the kitchen. His focus was on her as he retrieved two fresh bottles. "Y'all encountered Sith, that's what some of the guys said." He remarked idly, popping the caps off each bottle.

Vara's distress was visible. He already knew what it would entail. She wasn't going to bed with a loaded blaster for at least the next month. Upon returning to the lounge, he held a bottle out to her and sat beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulders to provide some comfort. Coruscant was an ugly battle, but this fight was her baptism of fire. It reminded him of Onderon. He was never any good with these things, he never knew what to say.

But he wasn't going to leave her alone, she was going to need his support.

A jiggy would likely help as well...

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

Not in Kestri​

The combat action hadn’t left her unscathed.

Neither in body, nor soul.

Her stare lingered on the rug far longer than it should have. His scrutiny dragged her attention back on him. Realizing his interest, Vara sat up straighter and reached for her chest. The wound sat above her midriff. Digits crossed fur to skin, tracing swollen lines of scar tissue toward a ragged hole no wider than two fingers. Her skin lay bare where fur should have been, marring the otherwise perfect pattern of black mottled gray fur.

It sat wrong there. It shouldn’t be there. Just like the older scar dragging from her left shoulder toward the center of her clavicle. The lingering kiss of another lightsaber.

A slow grin tugged at her maw, though the warmth never reached her eyes. ”Am okay.” The reassurance hung strangely between them. She wasn’t sure whether she meant it for him or for herself. Her gaze settled on the smoke he held toward her. She leaned forward and plucked it from his finger tips. The cigarette found its place caught between two fangs.

Her snout flared at a puff of breath. A snort. She shook her head. The earthy scent of tobacco filled her senses. For once, it did nothing. She rocked slowly in her seat. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her eyes drifted back to the elaborate tapestry woven into the rug beneath her feet. The grin diminished, until eventually her lips pressed thin.

"Y'all encountered Sith, that's what some of the guys said."

A bottle cap popped in a brief rush of sizzling air. Then another. The Harpy searched for his gaze, and found him in the kitchen.

When did he get there?

Regardless, his remark hit the nail in the head.

Sith.

Vara nodded. “Yee… Far too many,” The words came quickly, as if making up for the silence that preceded them. How could she forget? ”Reggie ‘n’ I, we-... We broke contact.” Her rocking came to a halt. She leaned forward again. Arms folded atop her thighs pressed together. “Comms began to flood then. Reports. One by one. From everyone. Some we've-... Uhh...” She never thought how hard it would be to speak it out. ”We never heard from them ever again after the next few hours.” She finally managed to say. ”We followed protocol – comm silence. Survival, evasion, resistance and escape.”

The silence hung heavy between them.

The Hound returned with their drinks after a moment. She reached out for the bottle and plucked it from his grasp. ”Bless you, sugar.” She plucked the cigarette from her fangs, trapping it between two knuckles. While he sat down beside her the Harpy immediately pushed the drink to her mouth as she cocked back her head. A hearty swig. A breath poured as she pulled down the bottle. “Anyway… We hunker down sumwhere-... Some... Some apartment complex or somethin’.” She continued. “Klaxons went off. Everywhere. The Imps, they uuuh... They moved to evacuate the civvies,” Her hands clasped around the neck of the bottle. Smoke trailed in thin streaks from the tip of her smoke. ”In the meantime we patch me up. Takes us a while. Then we was tryin’a figure out what’s next, y’know? And it was aroun’ then we heard it.”

Two fingers found her temple. Slow circles. Smoke curled overhead. A chuckle pulsed, almost a gasp. ”Y’see, we missed our scheduled check-in when we went silent on comms,” The serious edge of her voice gave way to relish. ”Ohhhh yeah. Saw th' greatest light show ever when they began orbital bombardment.” Amusement burst from her in a short barking laugh. She could see the fat streaks of angry-red plasma cut down toward the city from the skies in the theatre of her mind. ”We were pickin’ out targets fer ‘em there, y’see. Fer the Fleet. That’s what we needed the intel for. In prep for an actual attack.”

The cigarette found her lips. A quick drag. Smoke billowed from her lips and snout at a puff of breath. ”Then th' real party began man.” She shook her head, chuckling. “It was Hell. Yeah… Got hard to tell up from down, real quick. Everything was everywhere.” Her tone shifted on a dime. ”The sky darkened all of a sudden,” Her voice faltered. ”Karkin’-.. It was midday, babe. And it just… Then the storm came. Normal, at first. Then it just.. Changed. Lightning turned red, like blood.” She shook her head. Another swig of the sticky ale followed, wet her lips. The silence that followed lingered, longer than she liked. She scooched closer into his warmth.

”We hit the streets,” She continued. A weak timbre edged her tone. "I found us an extraction point-... Some high point. An’ juss’ our luck the karkin’ Imps set-up a triple A there,” A long breath escaped her snout. ”That thang it-... It had to go. So we make our move, but our "FRIEND" from earlier,” she tapped the seared ring of flesh at her navel. ”...Catches up to us on th’ way. That karkin’ womprat. How’d he find us, I’ve no clue. But he did. Reggie told me to keep goin’ when she'd give the word. Weren't any time to argue, so... I obeyed…”

”She holds ‘im off long enough fer me to clear out the Imps. Light work, just a few dozen-... Two dozen I think… I disable the gun for good measure, then fire off a signal flare. Reggie joined up with me later.” Smoke drifted across her eyes with another drag. ”No worse for wear. We get picked up then, by a gunship.”

Her gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the living room. The cigarette smoldered, forgotten between her fingers.

Yuri could piece together the rest.

 

[Yuri Maji]

Yuri's motions were slow and deliberate as he moved around Vara, not wanting to startle or interrupt her recounting of the mess on Humbarine. Her laughter didn't reach her eyes, her posture was stiff... she was reeling. He listened intently, studying her wounds as she spoke. A breath followed a shake of his head.

Things went to hell in a handbasket for all of them.

And he wasn't there.

Memories of battlefields and alleyways burrowed back into his mind. "This is why I didn't want you on the front lines yet." He muttered, taking a long swig of his own ale. "Kark me... sith all over again." He turned his attention back to Vara, planting a kiss on her temple. "You fought like hell, babe. You did what you could, all of ya. You..." His eyes softened as he gave her a squeeze around her shoulders. "You better not be thinkin' otherwise." He reassured her with a warm smile. It hurt to see her like this, broken and rattled.

Many thoughts spun around in his mind. But the biggest of all was the desire to keep her away. Every fight chipped a part off her, physical or mental. Every time she came home, she had a new collection of scars whether he was there to help or not. A familiar face came to mind. How long before Vara had a cybernetic skeleton and organs of her own? How long before he had to call his dad and Runi to fix Vara? But he knew her well enough to say otherwise.

She wouldn't listen.

Not that she had to, the latest battle proved it. She was a hell of a fighter. If the risk of her never coming home wasn't present, he would be parading her through the streets for her prowess. "Our new resident Wardog, huh?" He commented with a chuckle. He let go of her and stood up, a hand outstretched to help her up. "Walk an' talk. There's somethin' we gotta do before we get to relax." He explained, naturally planting a kiss on her forehead before leading her to the house's armoury. A heavy duffel bag was collected, along with his own armour.

If she wasn't going to listen, the least he could do for her was give her something to protect her thick skull. "You're not sleepin' with a loaded gun for a while, I'm tellin' you already. And if it were up to me, you'd be stayin' your shebs off the front." A heavy, irritated sigh shakily made it past his teeth, quickly followed by a gentle smile. He wasn't telling her everything, but there would be a time and place.

For now, they had work to do.

The duffel bag was held out to her, clattering and heavy while he packed his own armour into another bag. "I wanted to surprise you when you were ready... but I think you are. We're headin' to the forge." He spoke, though it sounded more like an order. The forge was absolute. It punished those who didn't believe, and it rewarded those who were devoted. Despite whatever dark thoughts crawled in his mind, he knew he wasn't a failure. And neither was she.

Approaching his speeder parked outside, the doors slid open to allow entry for the two mutts. In a few short moments, they were driving calmly along the old roads towards the factory. "It pains me to see you like this, Cuyan'ika." He admitted gently, eyes focused on the road. "Damned Sith..." A shadow of a growl rumbled in his throat.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

Safe In Your Skin​

Her mind did not quieten.

Admitting to a mistake, venting out a frustration, getting it out of one’s chest or any other means anyone ever drew on to deal with emotions so high strung… In the end, catharsis would be reached. Unburdened. A weight off one’s shoulders.

No such fortune graced The Harpy. The easy way was barred from her.

Details. She had left out a few. And what would airing them with words achieve anyway?

Hone her guilt, like a blade against the whetstone?

The memory saw to it already. The vivid recollection performed in the theatre of her mind to only one single member of an unwilling audience. Her only expense was her soul. Vara’s eyes blinked. The lounge grew hazy in her eyes. All around her the walls drew closer. Yuri’s voice faded like a memory she desperately wanted back. A bright, white light filled her vision. Crimsons constricted, before the light lost its intensity and settled. Steel surrounded her now. Dome lights dimly flashed on the ceiling. The outlines of her environment sharpened.

Various instruments stood out. The munitions stowage was just to her right. Shells – each the size of a man – further in the magazine disappeared into the floor, guided up by an automatic elevator. The rail of the autoloader’s feeding mechanism bridged with the massive sixteen incher's gunbreech, spanning a few yards to and from.

She was back inside the gun turret.

A sarcophagus of her making.

But not of her own.

Runes snapped into her vision. Dim flashes of data as her surroundings filtered through her visor. In the next draw of breath, the familiar weight of her beskar’gam settled on her shoulders. In the next second, everything blurred for a moment. She felt her boots scrape against the metal as she turned with a sharp pivot toward the hatch. Hands grasped tightly around the locking mechanism and turned. Fists pounded at the steel from the other side at the same time as the lock clicked and sealed. Frantic. Guttural groans drowned out the hammering, but they never diminished. Only became a constant.

She took a step back. And another. A sharp draw of breath.

It was not of her own.

She swung back around; her blaster rifle snapped at the silhouette. Her thumb brushed the mounted flashlight’s switch. The silhouette bathed under the light in a blink. Light shone from the bone white plastoid. His armor lacked full coverage, particularly at his thighs. Foregone for added comfort and mobility, worn over a black jumpsuit.

His auburn hair stood out like a pyre at midnight. Cut high and tight. His face buried into folded arms; knees tucked up to his chin, he rocked. Back and forth. Back and forth.

She summoned a step forward. The barrel of her rifle did not peel away from him. Another step. He stilled, before he raised up his chin. His features threaded into her gaze. Young, not a day older than nineteen. Maybe even younger. A pair of blue eyes looked back up, wet around the edges.

Might as well be a child in uniform.

Vara shifted in her stance.

The pit in her stomach deepened. She knew this part of the play. Every movement. Every beat. For she had written the script herself.

He’s a goner anyway. The conclusion she reached for him back then, rang inside her mind now. Either me, or them things ousside, were the only options he had. Sudden darkness, or ripped to shreds by his comrades in arms that were no longer men, but frenzied ghouls.

She'd be doing him a favor.

Another voice stirred from within, then. Small. Weak.

...’N’ what if there was another way?

She willed herself to stop. But the body was not willing.

The muzzle lowered and away from him. The buttstock scraped softly at her cuirass. Her hand slowly shifted from the handguard. Crimsons widened. By feeling alone she knew where her digits traced to. Before long, her hand clutched the grip frame. The leather holster rasped under the brush of gunmetal as she drew.

No.

She presented arms. The muzzle lined up to him.

His face grew pale as he met his executioner. The boy's face contorted to scream a plea, but before the words could escape him-...

The pistol bucked. The muzzle flash swallowed him. Then the sound. A violent, concussive crack hammered every inch of the turret all at once.

The steel screamed. Her ears screamed. The deafening echo refused to surrender. Then another voice called out to her. Not of her own. Not of the boy. Not of the ghouls.

His.

"Our new resident Wardog, huh?" He commented with a chuckle. He let go of her and stood up, a hand outstretched to help her up. "Walk an' talk. There's somethin' we gotta do before we get to relax."

The curtains finally fell. Her crimson gaze tore from the corner of the room and back onto him. He stood in front of her now. A hand extended for her. A small smile edged the corners of her maw. Snout flared at a pull of breath. His scent alone anchored him. She took his hand, and rose.

The next thing she knew, her jacket hung from her shoulders. And she held a duffel. It weighed heavy in her grasp. Something clattered inside. Something metallic. Got to be. They brushed, scraped and clinked against each other with each step as she followed Yuri outside. The wind swept her mane back, her locs fluttered wildly until she hopped in the car.

The city slipped by unnoticed after. Buildings came and went. So did people.

Vara’s thoughts lingered somewhere between the turret and the lounge, struggling to piece together why they were in the speeder now.

"It pains me to see you like this, Cuyan'ika." He admitted gently, eyes focused on the road. "Damned Sith..." A shadow of a growl rumbled in his throat.

She drew her stare away from the passenger window. ”Y’better not be blamin’ y’sself over it.” The Wardog finally found her voice, as small and pained as it was. Warmth in the glint of her eyes was unmistakable as was in her smile. Her gaze shifted to look out the windshield then. Brows hiked up to see the Ironworks drawing closer.

Why were they driving out here? ”Remind me babe, what’re we doin’ ‘ere again?”

 

[Yuri Maji]

---

THEME​

Of all the feelings swelling in his chest, the last he expected to feel was irritation towards her. It even surprised him, the twitch of his ear and the flash of heat in his face. It merely compounded when she asked where they were going. "I..." He stopped himself just in time. He had told her only a few minutes before.

From the corner of his eye, he watched her carefully. Confusion, fear, she was beaten down. He was willing to bet that the reality he saw beyond the windshield wasn't the same one she was seeing. "I'm makin' sure you're comin' home with a few less scars next time." He answered with a gentle voice. His eyes returned to the road, but a hand found purchase on her leg to comfort her. Thoughts brewed in his mind, becoming increasingly difficult to keep to himself. The silence from him was tense, eventually culminating into a snarl as the speeder skidded to a halt on the side of the road.

"I told you on Coruscant. I told you after Ryloth. Kark me, babe, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're suicidal!" The thoughts finally formed into words. Ears pinned back, fangs bared in anger as he shifted to face Vara in the passenger seat. "Every time you go out, you come back with new bandages! New wounds, new scars. How many more battles before I have to call auntie Alora to shove your ass full o' chrome?" His voice barked loud enough to ring his own battered ears. He slammed the steering wheel with a growl, though his eyes held no anger.

"I... I don't want another skeleton in our livin' room. I don't want another Wardog screamin' into the void every night. No, I ain't blamin' myself for this latest excursion. I'm blamin' the rest of the karkin' fleet for making you think you're ready. Thank Manda you at least learn quick!" His breaths were hot and short, regret immediately filled him for his outburst as he stared into Vara's crimson eyes.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

In My Head​

"I'm makin' sure you're comin' home with a few less scars next time." He answered with a gentle voice.

A few less scars, his words echoed in the emptiness of her mind.

The Wardog shifted, glancing over her shoulder at the duffel bags strewn across the backseat. Her snout dipped in a small nod. The warmth of his hand upon her thigh drew her gaze back to him.

Without question she followed the desire.

She met him with a vagrant’s grin, lopsided. Weariness softened the edge of her gaze. She longed for the warmth of their bed. Her hand settled atop his touch. Like vines, her digits locked with the Hound’s. Her thumb traced slow, lazy circles atop his. The Wardog’s eyes lingered for a breath longer, before the city drew her attention again.

It was almost soothing to watch the buildings just slip past them.

Her head felt heavy all of a sudden. Not from thought. Just exhaustion. Her elbow tucked onto the window sill, she propped her head inside her palm. A huff of breath left her lungs.

The day took its toll on her.

She was beat, and it was barely even past noon.

And she wanted to do so much with Yuri today. Nothing elaborate, just quality time spent together. Catch up first, then a holomovie over lunch. Something that’d spark both their interest. Though there wasn't anything interesting to watch these days… A solid pick from the ol’ classics if they couldn’t find chit. Then make dinner. A slow-cooked hunter’s stew. Meiloorun pie for dessert; her Ma’s recipe. The Wardog’s eyes dimmed. A breath pulsed from her lips. Longing.

..Or if they’d feel lazy or too cozy, maybe they’d order-

”Mnnh..!” The car came to a sharp halt. The momentum flung her forward for a beat, before her back slammed into the seat. Confusion and surprise widened her eyes. She could feel her heart drum against her ribs. Each breath grew sharper and quicker.

”W-Wuh-..?” Did they hit something!?

His voice boomed. Caught completely off guard, the Wardog recoiled in her seat. Ears swept down low. Her head snapped towards him, crimsons as wide as saucers.

"I told you on Coruscant. I told you after Ryloth. Kark me, babe, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're suicidal!" The thoughts finally formed into words. Ears pinned back, fangs bared in anger as he shifted to face Vara in the passenger seat. "Every time you go out, you come back with new bandages! New wounds, new scars. How many more battles before I have to call auntie Alora to shove your ass full o' chrome?" His voice barked loud enough to ring his own battered ears. He slammed the steering wheel with a growl, though his eyes held no anger.

"I... I don't want another skeleton in our livin' room. I don't want another Wardog screamin' into the void every night. No, I ain't blamin' myself for this latest excursion. I'm blamin' the rest of the karkin' fleet for making you think you're ready. Thank Manda you at least learn quick!" His breaths were hot and short, regret immediately filled him for his outburst as he stared into Vara's crimson eyes.

Her core rose and fell. Breathing steadied as he went on. Eyes closed shut for a moment, before fluttering open. The weariness had left its throne to something she carried deep in her core every day she was out there. The conversations and arguments they’ve had flared up and burned at the back of her mind. Anger gripped her heart.

And finally, gripped her tongue.

”...An’ if I didn’t know any better, I’d think yous a coward,” The Wardog finally spat. The words brought her to a pause. The venom lingered in the air between them.

Her jaw trembled. Her lips peeled back to a deep seated snarl. Hands balled into fists as her breathing quickened. She drew back, knuckles sailed in the air and struck his flank before she could stop herself. “I CAME FER YOU! YOU SENT FER HELP ON CORUSCANT! AN’ I WENT! WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT! AND YOU-..!?” Another mailed fist. The jab struck his bicep hard. ”...YOU CAST ME ASIDE LIKE I’M SOME DAAAAINTY LITTLE FLOWER!” The thought of it alone irked her, adding to the swell of rage blossoming inside her chest.

”I NEVER WAS! 'N' NEVER WILL BE!” She leaned back. Her conscience withheld another punch. But her wrath remained firm as ever. The Wardog’s black mane bristled high. ”Y’karked off! To who knows WHERE t’get y'sself KILLED! ‘N’ y’showed up at the R.V. DAYS later! Lookin’ BEAT up within an INCH of your life!” Maimed. Broken. The sight never left her eyes.

”So don’t TALK t’me about suicidal! I do everythin' I do cuz I'm AFRAID! M'AFRAID O'LETTIN' YOU DOWN! REGGIE! VREN! OUR KIN!” She mustered the strength for another blow. Her knuckles squarely landed against his shoulder. ”If you’re SO worried about me karkin’ dyin’ then STOP playin’ plant manager in your STUPID karkin’ office at the factory 'n’ BE THERE FER ME!” She poised for another strike, but the growing ache in her heart brought her to a halt.

Air lashed between her fangs. One breath. Sharp and shaky. Then another. And another. The bristling rage that had driven her thus far abandoned her. Her fist loosened, fell limp on her lap. The ache in her chest only grew. A hot sting gathered behind her eyes. Her heartache threatened to set itself free.

No. Not now.

Not in front of him.

Her head snapped towards the passenger window. Her jaw clenched, fangs barred. The city beyond her blurred past the window as heat continued to pool in her eyes. She shifted. Her hand found the latch.

The click sounded deafening inside the cabin. In the next breath the door flung open. The cold air rushed in as she got out. The speeder shook from the side as the door slammed shut.

The tears never got the chance to fall. She was already walking away.

 

[Yuri Maji]

Like a beast caught in a corner, Vara fought back against him. Her words found purchase, earning a wide-eyed anger in the wake of her insult. "Coward?!" He echoed in disbelief, shocked by the accusation. It was enough to freeze him in place for her to launch a barrage of punches against him.

The nerve...

"Oh, trust me, sis, you ain't a flower..." He managed to retort before her onslaught continued. Another punch was hurled against him, he didn't keep track on how many, but he blocked and retaliated. For the briefest moment, he didn't see a foundling, or the love of his life... he saw a challenge. Another Mandalorian taking his ground. He blocked her punch and hurled a Durasteel fist against her shoulder before he could stop himself.

And then she said it.

”If you’re SO worried about me karkin’ dyin’ then STOP playin’ plant manager in your STUPID karkin’ office at the factory 'n’ BE THERE FER ME!”

His eyes widened, a disgusting grin took hold as he barked a demeaning laugh at her. "Plant manager? You ignorant karkin' chakaar. The kark you know, huh? You-" She drew back for another punch, and he reciprocated.

But it never came.

Her hands fell into her lap as his own fist lowered. The silence between them brought a tension thick enough to stop a blaster bolt. He didn't realise the rage brewing in his heart until that moment. His breaths were shallow, his form hardened for an attack, his ears rang as blood, adrenaline and rage pulsed in his head.

It was only in the wake of silence between them that he could see what was happening. It came too late, though, as her door flung open to let in a rush of ice cold air. Before he could say anything, she left him alone in the deafeningly quiet cabin of his speeder. A harsh breath was expelled, quickly followed by a hard punch as he looked at himself in the reflection of his windshield. "For kark's sake!" He barked, assaulting the steering wheel in front of him. He spared a glance over his shoulder to his girl as she marched away from him.

Into the freezing cold.

She never listened. She couldn't!

No matter what he said, she would never listen. And now she was walking straight into a blizzard. "For kark's... Vara!" He barked, hurling his own door open as he snatched his jacket on the back seat. The frozen world around them practically came to a standstill as he sprinted after her, jacket fluttering along in his attempt to catch up to her. "Vara, wait!" He ordered more than anything else, reaching out to grab hold of her shoulder.

An eerie stillness overcame him. The same kind he came to recognize when he didn't expect to survive. A punch, a stab, a shot to the chest, none of it mattered as anger and frustration gave way to a grim peace, a blank mind ready for the unknown. Wide, golden eyes stared through her with a jacket already finding its way around her shoulders.

"Don't walk away." He blurted out, steam pouring from his maw.

She was going to get sick if he left her...

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

It's Snowing Like its the End of the World​

Her ears rang, but not of the howling windchill.

Looking back. The mere thought of it thrust a dagger to her heart.

So she didn’t.

The streets around her began to disappear. The blizzard had caught up. And like a creature of myth and legend, its snowy tendrils snaked through every alley and every street. The bonechill lashed at her. Daggers of their own, warmth quickly became an abstract concept. Fangs barred. Her long black mane whipped back under the constant wind. Her posture shrank. Arms tightly wrapped around no one but herself in one last ditch effort to stay warm.

But the cold was proving to be more tenacious than her.

Every step became a hard fought battle. Her strength – what little she had left after everything – was leaving her.

Gone was the confident Wardog who barreled through that tavern door. In her place was a woman she refused to recognize. Scared. Broken and brought low. Like a cub who lost track of her Ma’ in the storm.

Heat pooled behind her eyes. ”Ma’...” A whimper broke from her snout. A small, fragile sound against the wind. How she missed her… How could she? How could she leave her? Leave them all behind. For a life of death and destruction, and only booze and drugs to take the edge.

Was this it?

Was this the toll it took to mean something? Something more than just street trash? A vagrant?

And what the hell for?

"Vara, wait!" He ordered more than anything else.

She faltered in her step. Even now his voice tethered her. How did he do that? How had he rooted himself so deeply? So completely? So unconditionally? The Wardog’s head turned. Avoidant of his silhouette, let alone his face. Her heart swelled. Rage. Fury. Hatred. Contempt. Fear. But in the eye of the storm of her feelings…

Love.

She yearned for his touch, more than warmth. More than home.

And then he laid his hand. His wide palm sat atop her shoulder. The Wardog did not shy away. Nor did she turn to embrace him, even when he wrapped him in the warmth of his jacket. It took strength not to turn around and pounce on him with a hug. More than she’d ever openly admit to him.

But she could not. Not like this.

She would not let him see her like this.

"Don't walk away." He blurted out, steam pouring from his maw.

His voice became the single point of her focus. Not the cold. Not the wind. She straightened, the hurt and regret in his tone read clearly. Her breath misted before her eyes. “Why, Yuri?” Then she turned. Shoulders broadened out of sheer spite of herself. “So you can see me break?” Her voice was only a tone louder than a whisper. Yet every word cut through the wind. And so did the ache in her heart.

Silence hung heavy between them.

“I saw the way y’look at me. As-... As if I can’t take it. As if ‘m fragile-... Like ‘m made o’ glass,” At last she mustered the courage to speak again. Every syllable, every utterance a lash of the whip against her bare heart. And she hated it. Hated every last second of it. Yet she couldn’t stop herself.

Not any longer.

Her snout rose in an upward nod. “Y-You’re doin’ it right now.” A cackle pulsed for a breath. Small and weak. She shook her head. Her chest rose and fell amidst another pull of breath. “I’m not ready… You’re right-... But only because you don’t want me to be,” she finally said it. “You never did!”

The dam of her heart. Battered. Leaking. She hardly had any strength left to hold back a flood. “You made me your weakness,” And it had left her. A streak of ivory trailed down her cheek, dampening her fur against the bitter cold. “When all I ever wanted was to be your strength!”

They were supposed to survive the night. Together. Not drown in it.

A single step separated them.

Just the one.

Yet he looked farther away than she ever wanted him to be.

 

[Yuri Maji]

---

CRYSTALISED​

The wind whipped at them both, its cold wrapping around them like death. Each breath blew steam from both of them like two dragons in the stories he read as a kind. Despite the two of them being equal in height, Vara seemed small against him. The damage he did cut deeper than any blaster bolt or lightsaber ever could.

"Vara..." He spoke, his voice barely clearing the blizzard around them.

She was right. By Manda, she hit the nail on the head. He could never figure out how to explain his reservations toward her going to war. Obviously his previous points held truth, he feared for her life. But what she said froze him in place. Eyes widened like an animal in headlights, mouth agape and hands gently slipping from her shoulders.

“You made me your weakness,”

She was right.

"You're right." He said with barely a voice to project. Shaking his head, he gathered his jaw off the floor and fixed his posture. "You're right!" He finally found his voice. "Dunno how it happened, dunno why, but you're right." He reached out to wipe the tears from her eyes, tears hurt like hell in a blizzard. But his hand didn't reach her. The sting of the cold and regret in his heart held him back like a restraining bolt. "You... Do you..." He fought to string coherent words together, but a snarl was all that ripped from his maw. Hands pulling at his hair, he walked circles in front of her.

"You're my world, Vara!" He finally barked, open and raw with her. Only her, nobody else to see amidst the storm. "You think everythin' I've been doing for months has been for the Covenant?! It's been for you. For our family. And I'm karkin' terrified, Cuyan'ika, I'm karkin' scared. I've seen what happens out there. I've lived with the consequences, seen what it does." Desperate and bare, Yuri tried his hardest to get to the bottom of it all.

He faced her fully, slouched shoulders and ears flat. He shivered in the cold, but it didn't reach him just yet. "Sharin' all this with you has been the best karkin' thing to happen to me in years! But when I see those wounds, when I see you floatin' in a bacta tank, all I can think of is my mother's karkin' skeleton in our living room. Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I am a coward for it. But if that means makin' sure you get back alive, survive the night, then so be it!" His arms outstretched, he smiled in desperation.

"But kark me, if you're not the strongest force to ever push me in a direction. You've always been my strength, Vara. I just... I... I'm too scared to find out what'll happen when I lose you too." His voice began to tremble, the storm in his heart finally catching up with the blizzard around them.

He shuddered, holding out his mechanical hand to beckon her closer. "I need to change. I ain't perfect. But can we talk in the speeder? We're freezin' our shebs off over here!" He pleaded, unable to hold back a chuckle.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

It's Snowing Like its the End of the World​

"You're right." He said with barely a voice to project.

And there it was.

His confession. That her hunches were not unfounded. That her intuition did not lead her emotions astray. Her hands clenched, balling into fists. Her frame shuddered in a heave of breath. Sharper than a straight edge razor. Her jaw snapped shut. The corners of her mouth wrinkled back. A snarl. Her eyes burned. Pain set them aflame with every lash of the wind on her face. She tucked her snout closer to her chest. His eyes. She could not bear to look. The agony she caused him…

But she was right. Wasn’t she?

But then why did she still feel devastation?

Wasn’t she supposed to feel any better? Wasn’t this how it worked, these fights?

"You're my world, Vara!" He finally barked, open and raw with her. Only her, nobody else to see amidst the storm. "You think everythin' I've been doing for months has been for the Covenant?! It's been for you. For our family. And I'm karkin' terrified, Cuyan'ika, I'm karkin' scared. I've seen what happens out there. I've lived with the consequences, seen what it does." Desperate and bare, Yuri tried his hardest to get to the bottom of it all.

He tore her apart.

Her eyes snapped shut. ”nnnnngh!” A whine escaped her, smaller than a flash of matchlight struggling to expel the darkness of an abyss. Fists trembled, drawn tighter than a vice. Heat pooled inside both palms. Drops of crimson wept from her knuckles’ grooves. The sanguine lament stained the virgin snow with every drop.

He faced her fully, slouched shoulders and ears flat. He shivered in the cold, but it didn't reach him just yet. "Sharin' all this with you has been the best karkin' thing to happen to me in years! But when I see those wounds, when I see you floatin' in a bacta tank, all I can think of is my mother's karkin' skeleton in our living room. Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I am a coward for it. But if that means makin' sure you get back alive, survive the night, then so be it!" His arms outstretched, he smiled in desperation.

"But kark me, if you're not the strongest force to ever push me in a direction. You've always been my strength, Vara. I just... I... I'm too scared to find out what'll happen when I lose you too." His voice began to tremble, the storm in his heart finally catching up with the blizzard around them.

The slight tremble in his voice cut her to her marrows.

She knew.

The same fears he had of her, she had of him. Every gunfight, every skirmish, every battle; death could do them part. At any time. She wanted to say something, every time battle saw her and their kin descend upon their enemies on a foreign world, while he tended to the homefront. While he kept their hearth aflame. A promise. A vow.

…No.

A lie.

Something – anything – to keep him going; that in the end she would always return. No matter the night’s darkest hour. That she’d chase it away. That she’d be his Day with the Sun never to set again. But such promises could never part from her lips.

Because it wasn’t in her to lie.

Not to him.

Her chest tightened. Ears swept back and pinned. Her breath hitched in short, staccato gasps, fluttering her throat like a trapped moth desperate for escape. She wanted to tell him. Tell him everything! Tell him she didn’t want to spend a second in this life without him! Tell him of the same fears! Of the same rage! The same scars!

But her tongue forbade speech!

She barely stood on two feet.

And then he struck her one final time.

He shuddered, holding out his mechanical hand to beckon her closer. "I need to change. I ain't perfect. But can we talk in the speeder? We're freezin' our shebs off over here!" He pleaded, unable to hold back a chuckle.

The Wardog’s eyes snapped open. Crimsons settled upon gold. And she was already moving. Muscles drew taut, tendons stark under her hide. Arms swept apart. Wide. Her palms outstretched, thin streaks of crimson misted in the air, trailing after her digits. One final burst of energy.

And she spent it all on a leap.

Her chest slammed onto his. Arms snapped shut around him like a bear trap in the same breath. Her snout flared in a series of rapid, trembling puffs. A whine. Small and low, it rumbled from her throat. But the pitch only increased. The flat of her jaw burrowed onto Yuri’s broad shoulder. Her temple against his. Digits sank into his hide. Bloodstained claws raked his fur. And finally…

She let go.

But The Wardog did not just break.

She shattered.

The heavens above trembled beneath the piercing cry of a banshee. Her body seized and convulsed against him. A sob ripped through her, hard enough to fold her against him. Then another. And another. Her legs threatened to give way beneath her.

Words tried to form. Of pleas. Of apologies.

But all she could do was hold onto him.

Cling as though the blizzard wanted to tear him away. Cling, as though she feared that if she loosened her grip for even a heartbeat, he would disappear.

 

[Yuri Maji]

With every word he spoke, she crumbled in his wake. There was no logical way he had such an effect on anyone in this galaxy. He had half a mind to stop talking, but it's been a long time coming. Dirty laundry they've held back for months that finally surfaced. He had been too overbearing, from Coruscant until now, he fought against her every desire to prove herself. It wasn't wrong, he knew that.

But she had a voice of her own.

Perhaps this was the galaxy's sick sense of humor coming into play. They were made for each other. Two equally karked up peas in a pod.

She moved.

His arm, still held out, retreated to block an attack. Instinct took hold, but the hurt never came. His breath was driven out of him as her arms clamped shut around him. Without a second thought, he wrapped around her to shelter her against the raging storm.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, pressing his forehead against hers. Durasteel and flesh clamped shut to hold her close, stop her from disappearing before he lost her forever. "I'm sorry, Vara." He muttered to her as he held her taught. Nothing would separate them, no storm or bolt or unseen force could tear them apart.

He needed to be better.

Tears might not have fallen from the Hound, but his heart laid open for his little survivor to see.

With no more words, Yuri lifted her up and cradled her in his arms as he walked them back to his speeder. Only when he tucked her into the passenger seat and shook off the snow caking his pelt before climbing into the driver's seat did he speak again. For the first time did he not feel ashamed to cradle her cheek with his cybernetic hand. "I love you, Cuyan'ika. You might need a hearin' aid, but I karkin' love ya." He muttered with a shaky breath, drawing her closer to press his head against hers.

He didn't care if his poorly timed joke landed. He just wanted to see her smile.

It felt like hours before he decided to let her go. The speeder stank of wet dog and the windows steamed up against the storm, but it all dissipated when he started it back up. Even then, a hand stayed on her to make sure she stayed close to him. "Let's go. There's work for us." He spoke, a veiled request to see if she still wanted to go.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Streets
TAG: Yuri Maji

It's Snowing Like its the End of the World​

Never had she felt so bare.

She wept, openly and raw into his shoulders. Sobs ripped from her throat. Her lungs fought for the right to breathe. A frantic, losing battle. Her core shuddered with every futile attempt. Her frame wracked under the weight of her emotions.

"I'm sorry."

Words… A single syllable was too great to utter.

So many emotions she wanted to voice, yet they spared her so little time in between sobs. She could manage only a whimper. The sound left her, soft and frail between them. As if she pleaded for his forgiveness. As though she should be the one to bear the guilt. Not him.

The Wardog’s jaw trembled as she felt his brow press against hers. Her heart beat against his. The warmth he offered so freely only deepened the ache. A deathless reminder of every word and every shout she drew upon to bleed his heart, regardless of her righteousness. She cut him deeper than she had ever sought.

How could she?

"I'm sorry, Vara."

Another sound escaped her. A broken whine torn loose from somewhere deep within her core. A sound no warrior should ever make. A sound that belonged to a frightened cub or a grieving parent. And she could not stop it. Tendons stood stark beneath the sleeves of her jacket. She tightened, her embrace threatened to bruise his flesh. Then she tightened again. As if sheer stubbornness could pull him in any closer. As if she could fit him inside her heart.

As if they hadn’t become one amidst the storm already.

The ground swept away beneath her soles. In the next heave for breath, she was weightless. His warmth now cradled her. The snow crunched gently with each step. Her sobs continued to rise above the howling blizzard. When he tucked her onto the passenger seat, her reluctance to let go was only restrained by the lack of strength to fight him.

Void of his warmth, she felt colder than the ravaging blizzard outside.

Thankfully his return was not a second longer.

His digits cradled her cheek. Beneath his touch, even the firmness of steel yielded to softness. She leaned her head into his touch the way frostbitten hands sought a fire. Her snout twitched. Breath pulsed in a small mist between them. And another. And another, before her breathing calmed. Lids atremble, she slowly opened her eyes. At first she sought to avert her gaze, but he left her no choice.

Crimsons, wide as saucers, slowly settled upon gold.

"I love you, Cuyan'ika. You might need a hearin' aid, but I karkin' love ya."

For a moment, she simply stared. The words failed to make sense.

Not after everything she had said, not after every punch she threw.

Then, she reached up. Her hand cradled his touch at her cheek. Blood marked him, smearing onto his hand from her palm. Slowly her lips moved, forcing her tongue to speech. ”W-what?” a small voice, almost as quiet as thought. The silence hung between them, before her lips peeled back. Her core shuddered in a sorry imitation of a chuckle before she could stop herself.

She lingered in his touch for as long as she could, before he had to draw back.

"Let's go. There's work for us."

A small smile crept in. Her head bowed to a small nod. Then she leaned back into her seat, hands brought up. She sank her face into her hands, wiping away the tears. Only then she felt the heat pooling inside her palms. She drew away her hands, palms facing her. Deep grooves marked her palms. Claws wet with blood. Warmth of her crimson lament hot against her eye sockets.

Physical pain began to thread its way into reality. Suddenly her hands burned. A grumble rolled from her throat as she opened the glovebox. ”W-We’re lucky we’re not in Mon Gazza,” she managed to string together some words. Something resembling the Wardog. Then hands finally found what she sought. A small set of gauze. ”R-Ride woulda been-... Woulda been ‘jacked by now.” A cackle pulsed. Small yet genuine.

Silence found her again soon after. Head lowered, crimsons settled upon her lap as she wrapped her hands in gauze. Only now, with the storm inside her beginning to quiet, did his confession finally reach her. It settled in her heart like an anchor dropping into an ocean’s depths.

Then, she stirred.

Face turned towards him, but only just. Eyes dared not to look at him, dreading to find out what he thought of her weakness. She broke when he needed her to be strong.

The words gathered behind her fangs. Words she kept buried beneath jokes. Beneath mockery. Beneath anger and retorts. Anything to keep her heart hidden.

Anything to keep herself hidden.

”I’m sorry.”

She said it.

 

[Yuri Maji]

While a peaceful silence might've fallen between them, Yuri still wasn't comfortable with the state of things. They had hurt each other, there was a lot they still had to talk about. He never considered that he was this strung up about it all. For now, though, she was in the car with him and things were relatively fine. There would be time to air their concerns later.

He achieved what he set out to do, she was smiling. Broken and faltering, but it was a smile. That was enough to put him at ease. Only when he pulled his hand back did he notice the blood smeared along the back. "Vara, you're..." He didn't even need to finish his sentence, she was already looking for the medpack in his cubbyhole. Instead, a snort escaped at her joke. "Made that mistake before. If this was Denon or Nar Shaddaa, you wouldn't be gettin' outta your seat." He retorted with a snicker. With the speeder underway, he spared a glance at her bandaged hands, a plethora of jokes already cropping up. But he didn't dare to speak them, not after everything that was said.

”I’m sorry.”

Her apology came from nowhere. He stared ahead, gently guiding them through the winding roads toward the factory. "... You didn't do anything wrong. It needed to be said." He finally muttered, a firm glare accompanying his voice to make sure it wasn't up for debate. He reduced her into a puddle on the floor when he needed to support her.

She didn't need guilt on top of everything else going on.

The speeder slowed to a halt in front of the factory. With both duffel bags in hand, he led her to his personal forge. It was a slow day, Joe was taking care of the place. They had all the time in the world. Up the catwalk, past his desk and bed, the door slid open to their personal section. He set his own armour aside and dropped the other next to the smelter in the center of the room. "Open it, pull all the tech and lining from the pieces." He instructed, booting up the terminal to the forge. Inside the duffel bag was his old armour. Scraped clean of the orange and grey he used to sport, the raw Beskar shimmered against the light of the forge.

With the press of a button, he beckoned her over to a nearby scanner. "Need to size you up. Don't want your armour sitting too loose or tight." He explained with a smile.

Vara Maji

 

[Vara Maji]

THE FOUNDLING
Kestri | Tor Valum | Home
TAG: Yuri Maji

Simpler Times​

"Made that mistake before. If this was Denon or Nar Shaddaa, you wouldn't be gettin' outta your seat." He retorted with a snicker.

Her old self returned. One joke at a time.

A chuckle. It came far easier from the broad this time. A puff of breath, she leaned deeper into the seat. The headrest caught her nape. Another breath parted from her lips. Her eyes dimmed with a fatigue that only immensely strong emotions could bring upon. The speeder hummed with the softness of a lullaby. Even the throbbing pain in her palms felt sweet.

But no amount of rest would come to her.

The silence inside the speeder deepened. Her thoughts drifted with it. Back to the shouting. The fighting. Yet none of it lingered quite like the look in his golden eyes.

Mirrors into his soul.

"... You didn't do anything wrong. It needed to be said." He finally muttered, a firm glare accompanying his voice to make sure it wasn't up for debate.

His words left no room for argument. But not for Vara.

She shot back. Stubbornly and without a second of reconsideration. ”Kark off, I-...” The vitriol pointed to none other than herself. She paused for a pulse of breath. ”I shouldn’t’ve called you somethin’ you never were.”

A coward.

That’s what she called ‘im, knowing full well it would shatter him.

And that was the curse of their love. She knew the path to his heart like the back of her hand; what made him smile. What made him tick. What drew laughter and what earned ire. And he knew her in return just the same way. The Wardog’s heart was laid bare and open, for nobody but him.

And they poisoned each other today. The guilt settled regardless of his words. How could it not?

She had to do better.

He brought the speeder to a halt. The silence had carried them through their journey. Her eyes opened groggily. Outlines of the Ironworks appeared blurry. Focus found her eyes after a few blinks. Her hand caught the latch. The door opened with a click. The car shook as it slammed home after her. Before she could reach the duffels from outside, her man had beat her to it.

Vara fell into step beside him. Her hand found one of the straps, sharing the weight of a duffel bag before he could protest. Her palm sang with a fresh wave of pain. She buried it under a smile before it could ever show. The factory had quietened unlike the buzz of activity she had seen a few hours ago. Their footfalls cut through the din as they climbed the stairs and took the catwalk to the office.

Home.

Everything was exactly as she remembered.

The office still carried the familiar scent of steel, soot and lingering heat from the forge. Vara stopped beside the desk. A drawer slid open beneath her hand. Moments later a bottle emerged with her. She nudged the drawer shut with her hip and kept moving.

The bottle immediately found her lips as she crossed the threshold into their personal space. Whatever they were here to do, she first needed a drink.

She knocked her head back. Tihaar burned down her throat in thirsty swigs. A breath poured from her lips as she cut toward the Hound shortly after. She held out the bottle for him to take as she scrutinized the duffels with a careful gaze.

Open it, pull all the tech and lining from the pieces." He instructed, booting up the terminal to the forge.

Vara gave him a quick nod. Then with purpose, she moved to the smelter situated at the centre and reached out for the duffel. The zipper ripped sharply with a tug. The bright shimmer flashed in her crimsons. Her eyes widened. Her head snapped, glancing at him over her shoulder. ”Is this-..?” She stammered in a fleeting breath.

No, it couldn’t be!

But the steel affirmed it.

Her maw parted. Words pressed behind fangs. But her reservations found no voice. Of course she was ready. They would not be here if she weren’t. Deserving, no matter how loudly she’d argue otherwise. There wasn’t a thing Yuri did for her if she hadn’t earned it first. And she loved him for it.

"Need to size you up. Don't want your armour sitting too loose or tight." He explained with a smile.

Her ears flicked. She shot a glance at the bare beskar before her for a fleeting breath before she turned. A cackle rolled from her throat. ”’N’ here I thought yous had already mem’rised ‘em by now.” Her hands glided across her frame with a confidence that would’ve made a twi’lek dancer jealous. The jacket slipped free from her shoulders with an easy roll. The Wardog cut toward him in leisurely steps.

Lips chirped in a scorching smooch against his cheek. She lingered for a breath with her desire laid bare, before she stepped onto the scanner. ”... So how’s the home front?” Arms and legs wide apart, she waited for him to start the scanner.