revivalproject | open ☾ an arrival

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open ☾ an arrival

WHO: Merrin and YOU
WHERE: All over Temba
WHAT: One (1) very confused space witch makes her debut
WHEN: Right now?
WARNINGS: None yet, but will update if anything comes up!

A. YOU'VE GOTTA BE KITTEN ME

Despite the fact that Merrin is absolutely the type to hold grudges, she's somehow made peace with Voroka and the other mothkittens in spite of the terrible crime against her—at least judging by the fact that she's currently sitting cross-legged in the grass near the library while the kittens nap, lounge, and play in the sunshine around her.

A few bolder ones have already approached her, and she extends her hand towards one of them to let it curiously sniff her fingers. She's learned her lesson from last time, however, and she keeps her talisman, a palm-sized, halfmoon-shaped white rock, gripped tightly in her other hand to prevent another theft. That's the last thing she needs, now or ever.

"Hello, Voroka," she says to the mothkitten, though her voice doesn't sound welcoming so much as stern, like a disappointed parent. "Did you think I would not recognize you?"

B. LIFE'S A BEACH

It takes her a little while to find the path to the beach, but she eventually stumbles across it and—well, her home planet, Dathomir, is essentially a dry, harsh wasteland, and the largest body of water that exists there is a swamp, maybe a pond.

So nothing really prepares her for the sight of the ocean stretching out in front of her. It appears almost infinite to her, and she stands there on the beach for a long time, staring out across the water in wonder, her lips slightly parted. Her gaze keeps darting to the waves lapping against the shore as if she's... contemplating something.

(In fact, she's contemplating putting her feet in the water, though she doesn't know how safe it is, if at all. A lifetime on Dathomir has made her wary of everything, even if it looks harmless.)

C. SURPRISE! AT THE DISCO

After a few days of exploring, Merrin has finally started to get the lay of this place, and so she feels comfortable enough using her magick to teleport around—at least in the town center, where she's most familiarized, whether there are other people around or not.

The only thing that heralds her imminent arrival is a thick green fog that she materializes into, and then she's suddenly there, looking completely unperturbed, like she just stepped off a lift instead of blinking into existence halfway across the city.

D. WILDCARD

Of course, Merrin is still exploring. She can also be found in the hangar, inspecting all of the ships, including exploring her own assigned ship, the First Breath, at the inn, contemplating her food options and wishing she could eat Greez's steak, in the hotel, staking out an empty room (or not?) to claim, or pretty much anywhere else, seriously. Jedi and anyone who can sense Jedi will also be able to sense her—she feels pretty similar, actually, but definitively more... dark. Or sinister.

Or feel free to use any of her TDM prompts, if those speak to you more.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, well appearances can be deceiving." There's probably more parts sitting around than might actually be put to use at the moment. Cal has a few projects, one that just needs some testing out, the others not entirely on any set schedule.

"There's not too much to this room, basically the area I keep the salvage bins, if people find anything to add in or want to see if anything's there they can use."

By then BD-1's gone through the doorway to the adjoining room, and Cal follows after, grinning knowingly. "BeeDee just wants to show off his collection," he says. There's no denying his fondness for that droid. He's not sure where he'd be without the little guy and he's said as much many a time.

The other room is smaller but neater in that there's less clutter of parts here and there. Storage cabinets line one wall, suspended above empty crates. There's one main worktable area in here, a large, flatish ring-shaped device occupying one side of it, several crystalline rods set into it at given intervals with the ends facing towards and outwards the ring's center. Beside it are more familiar shapes, parts of a lightsaber for the look of it, and a whole one, if shorter than the one Cal's been known to carry.

There's a corner of the room that's clearly been used as a sleeping space, not much grander than the space he had aboard the Mantis. A small crate sits beside it, open, a dark gray jacket with deep blue paneling draped over its edge. BD-1 has made a beeline for the corner adjacent to that, which holds a small free-standing shelf near the one window in the room. It has some strange objects on it which seem completely out of place for everything else- several stuffed toys of varying shades of pink shaped like strange animals, a frisbee ringed in red and white with a star set in a blue circle at its center, a...hammer? of some kind, suspiciously puffy and revealed to be a printed design on some vinyl material, inflated for whatever reason. There's a couple of makeshift pots with a sprout or two, one of them with a small bloom of delicate blue flowers.

Quietly, she follows along behind Cal, her gaze roaming all over the workshop, curious but sharp. The objects on the worktable quickly catch her eye, including what she presumes to be another lightsaber, even if it's different from the one that Cal carries—she would know, since she held it in her hands herself.

She would've probably made her way over to it if not for BD-1's excited beeps over by his(?) corner of the room. So instead she heads for the droid, kneeling down in front of the shelf and inspecting the very strange assortment of items.

"Ah, so this is your collection, yes?" It's directed at BD-1, who replies with a cheerful trill that she takes to be an affirmative, and so she adds kindly, "It is very nice." Because he seems very proud of it.

"What are these?" She starts to reach for the one of the fluffy pink animals, then stops and glances towards Cal, wordlessly asking if it's okay to touch.

The plush toys shimmer a bit from bits of glitter that haven't quite been brushed off of them. One looks squid-like, and a few of different-shaped figures with four legs. At Merrin's glance, Cal gives her a nod.

"Gifts from the Agrii...I think. There were a few...very long days when there was glitter falling everywhere. Those were left for us to find too. BeeDee decided to claim them," he explains. "I think they might be modeled after some of the local creatures. At least two I kind of recognize anyway."

He walks over to the corner to join them. "The Agrii sometimes go overboard with things. Usually they mean well, but aside from the language barrier, they don't seem to understand when something might be too much."

She takes the one that looks like a squid (though... do squids exist on Dathomir?), gratified that it's as soft and fluffy as it looks, and then gives it a few experimental squeezes.

"So they are not for voodoo." Her tone is deadpan, but she does shoot Cal a glance out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows raised, to let him know that she's joking. They do have normal dolls on Dathomir, hard as it might be to believe with a bunch of witches. After a moment, she replaces the stuffed toy on the shelf, careful not to knock anything else over, and straightens.

"These are all gifts from the Agrii?" She doesn't sound too impressed, if only because her opinion of the Agrii is pretty low right now.

BD-1 borbles as he watches Merrin appraise his plushies. He's become quite fond of that one in particular although Cal can't fathom why, especially considering their encounter with a swarm of those squid-fish creatures in the flood plains.

To Merrin's look, Cal offers her an equally dry one, masking an unvoiced laugh. "Just those," he says before pointing other things out. That disc and...hammer? were from some kind of festival that one of the others managed to put together somehow. Apparently it's some kind of magic but I'm not exactly sure how it works." Billy could do some pretty amazing things for the few times Cal's seen it.

"The plants are just our shot at recreating a terrarium like Greez's, I guess."

Magic definitely piques her interest, which shows on her face, but the disc and hammer, as he called them, look perfectly ordinary to her—or as ordinary as two completely alien items can look, she supposes. She'll have to come back to them later.

Instead, she considers the plants, including the one sprouting dainty blue flowers. No offense to Cal (or BD-1?), but Greez's terrarium on the Mantis is much more impressive, though she guesses she can appreciate the effort. It's hard to top Greez's apparent skill with plants, after all.

"They are still very small. This one," she says, gesturing to the blue flowers, "does not look like it would survive for long on Dathomir." Delicate things don't last very long on her home planet.

Still, she stoops down and reaches out to very, very gently touch one of the flowers, the petal silky against her fingertips. It wouldn't survive long, sure, but she still thinks it's pretty. Definitely nothing at all like the plants and flowers on Dathomir.

Edited 2021-04-20 03:46 (UTC)

Neither Cal nor BD-1 have that figurative green thumb, and Cal supposes if he wanted to seriously cultivate anything he would have tried that agriculture datapoint. That the plants had survived being transplanted at all is considered a plus in his book.

"I don't think they get very big," he nods. He remembers the...plantlife on Dathomir well enough. It was amazing how even those could look ominous. "Different plants grow in different environments. I hope the ones I found for Greez have been doing all right." He doesn't doubt that they have been. The Latero had an interesting array of hobbies.

Merrin doesn't think she has much of a knack for plants—not like some of her sisters did, anyway—but she does have a spell or two that might help. Greez had even seemed open to letting her use them, as long as she didn't turn his plants into... monster plants, or whatever he'd been imagining. He seems to have a very vivid imagination where Nightsister magick is concerned.

She glances towards Cal, nods once as a kind of... warning, she supposes, because last time she used her magick he'd been caught off guard, and then murmurs a spell in her own language, green ichor flowing from her hands and into each of the plants. It doesn't appear to make much of a difference, but it had been just a small spell, enough to give the plants a little more strength. It might take a few days, but they'll grow.

She straightens again, satisfied. "They were growing well when I... left," she informs him. "Our small captain takes their care very seriously. He treats them almost like children." She sounds amused, but is that also a hint of fondness for Greez in her voice? Yes, but she won't admit it.

The warning's much appreciated, Cal looking on mostly in curiosity as he's not sure what other applications Nightsister magick has. At their feet, BD-1 hoots with slight concern, glancing up at the padawan when the latter holds a hand out. Hang on their buddy. He doesn't think Merrin would cause any harm.

While he's unsure of just what she's doing, he can sense...something happening. He's not quite sure how he'd describe it. When she's finished, Cal glances at her, unable to help but smile a little as Merrin speaks of her own knowledge of Greez.

"He does, doesn't he? But there's no denying he's good at it." At first he hadn't thought much about Greez's requests to pick up some seeds as he went about his explorations, little enough a payment for being an extra mouth to feed and taking up extra space aboard the ship, but it had become obvious enough just how much the Latero appreciated the plants, even if some of them had questionable names.

"So what was that you did just then?" Cal asks, head tilting.

It always struck her as a little funny that, as much as Greez disliked the universe outside the Mantis, he still liked having a little bit of the outside universe inside the Mantis. In the form of plants, at least—she can't account for anything else.

"I have given them strength," she replies simply. The idea is similiar—in principle, at least—to the spell she used on the Nightbrothers, giving them an unnatural amount of strength before she sent them off to attack Cal. Though—she doesn't say as much, because she's not sure how well the comparison will go down.

Instead, she looks down at BD-1 and adds, "They will grow well for you now." The droid seems very invested in their welfare, so she wants to reassure him.

Ah yes, it had not been fun being on the receiving end of an attack by enhanced Nightbrothers. It's not a thought that comes to mind at least, Cal's smile unwavering as he looks back at the flowers, pausing to stoop down to pick BD-1 up to see as well, not that any change has occurred thus far.

"Isn't that great, BeeDee? I'm sure they'll really be something to see," he says. The droid gives an excited twitter at that, beeping happily at Merrin.

"He says thank you," Cal translates.

"You are welcome." With a nod and a warm smile for BD-1 (she can't help herself—he just seems so excited), she moves away from the shelf and heads for the workbench that caught her attention earlier. She wants to give the items there a closer look.

"How did you learn to understand him?" The question is directed at Cal while she crosses the room, her curiosity evident in her tone.

Nobody else in the crew was able to speak... whatever language droids speak, so she can only assume it's a rare skill. Maybe it's difficult to learn? She kind of hopes not, honestly, because it would be nice to be able to communicate with BD-1. The droid doesn't really seem to let anything get him down, but she can only imagine how hard it is when only one person can understand you.

After all the hints and suggestions of smiles that never quite surfaced on her face in full, it's nice seeing a genuine smile. Cal can't even be jealous when he knows it's not hard around BD-1. The little droid definitely earns those smiles.

"I picked up on some Binary while I was working and living on Bracca," he says as he helps BD-1 up and over his shoulder so the droid can latch onto the strap of his harness. He wanders over towards the worktable where Merrin's drifted over to. "The Scrapper Guild had a lot of droids working and overseeing the worksites, but most of them weren't very friendly, and the rest were very focused on the job. It helps that BeeDee's a lot more expressive."

He hasn't told her very much yet about the time he spent on Bracca, working for this Guild of his. Not because he seems reluctant to talk about it—they just haven't gotten around to it much, she supposes. But she's interested enough that it distracts her a little from her quest, her gaze on him intent, but curious, as she rests one hand on the edge of the worktable.

As for BD-1 being very expressive—well, she can't help but agree. She tries to imagine a whole bunch of much less friendly droids and finds that she doesn't really like that mental picture.

"It is not difficult to learn?" That's what she really wants to know. Would she be able to learn so that she can speak with BD-1?

With the look she gives him, Cal shrugs. "Not that we were there to make friends on Bracca. When the Empire took over they just wanted us to churn out what we dismantled from old warships so they could use the materials to build new ones." He shakes his head. The days were busy, the pay, not that great, but he'd had little other choice and no real place to be.

"It takes a bit of practice," he admits to Merrin's inquiry. "Tones help a lot. Like for instance, it's easy to tell if he's asking a question. I'm sure you'll be able to pick up on the idea of what he might be saying if you're around him enough."

The Empire... old warships... she remembers the ships that came down to Dathomir with the warrior and his droids, so that's about all she can picture when he describes dismantling them on Bracca. Something tells her that isn't quite right, but at least it's a start to filling in some gaps.

But a bit of practice? Well, she has the time to practice here, it seems, so that she can do. She glances at BD-1, perched on Cal's back, and says to the droid, "Then I will learn from you." She's resolved to do it now, so... good luck, BD-1.

Next, she turns her attention back to the worktable, her hair falling forward as she inspects the items there, a slight crease between her eyebrows. Her hand moves towards the assembled lightsaber, though she doesn't actually touch it. "This is another one of your lightsabers?" she asks curiously.

BD-1 at least sounds encouraging, hooting happily at Merrin's decision. How that goes, well, it's true, they've got time.

Cal looks at the worktable, nodding as Merrin's attention goes to the lightsaber. "Yeah. My master's didn't come with me when I arrived here. I asked a friend if he could make some parts for a casing. That's this one here," he says, pointing at the pieces there. "I tried one of the raw power crystals I found here in place of a kyber crystal. It...kind of worked? Except it would also boost the power of anything running on some sort of charge that was around it." He nods at BD-1's beeping. "-and it made metal glow. Which could get pretty distracting."

He reaches over to pick up the completed lightsaber. "This one I got to build when we'd gone to Coruscant, to the Jedi temple. I wasn't sure we'd be a kyber crystal since the way we received ours was to attend the Gathering at Ilum, but the temple had some on hand and set up a sort of test for me and Ezra so we could find out if any responded to us."

Ah. So he didn't arrive with his lightsaber—that's why Merrin didn't recognize this one. She remembers Cere describing the bond between a Jedi and their lightsaber, which had made her wonder aloud why an order of peacekeepers were so attached to their weapons—she wonders now if Cal had felt the loss of his lightsaber hard. She certainly would, if it was her talisman.

She steps back a little to give him room to reach for the lightsaber, her gaze following the motion. "There is only one?" Head tipping to the side curiously, she gestures towards the blunt end of the weapon, where there's a second emitter on the lightsaber she's familiar with.

Between Cal and Malicos and Trilla, she kind of thought that... all lightsabers had two blades?

It had been a difficult thing to wrestle with, not having that memento of his master, even though the freshest memory of Jaro Tapal had been the encounter of that shadow on Dathomir. At least Cal hasn't lost it permanently, which is really the only comfort in that regard. He still misses it.

He holds his arm outwards away from them as he activates the blade, blue and humming. "Yeah. I was thinking of reconfiguring it with the parts from the other one. But I'll have to see how the other crystal will affect the power output of the kyber crystal's."

The answer gets an absent sort of nod out of her, her eyes fixed on the glowing blue blade. She remains quiet for a moment, so that the only sound filling the room is the lightsaber's hum, before deciding to just give voice to her thoughts from a moment ago.

"Cere told me a little of the bond between a Jedi and their lightsaber," she explains. It still sits a little strangely with her that she has to explain these things—Cal had been there when she'd had the conversation with Cere in hyperspace, no doubt listening in, but of course he doesn't remember.

"It must have been difficult to leave behind your old one." She's still watching the lightsaber, but her voice is soft.

Cal looks at the blade. He'd gotten so used to the unbalanced weapon that was his master's lightsaber that this one feels strange to him, too light, too short. He flicks it off again, fingering the hilt.

"...it was strange, not having it. I thought I'd lost it when I got here," he says after a moment. "I found out that people don't arrive with much when they come. Guess I was lucky to have BeeDee with me. But others came with their lightsabers. It was hard not to miss having mine."

He starts to put the saber back before pausing, upturning his palm with it to offer the weapon for Merrin to have a closer look if she wants.

As she thought. The confirmation doesn't make her feel any better, though at least she has the knowledge that he'll have his master's lightsaber again when he returns.

Something about the way he silently offers the weapon to her catches her off guard—not out of surprise, but rather with a sense of familiarity, almost like deja vu. It's reminiscent of the last time he gave her his lightsaber, but this time, it isn't tossed from a distance, as a peace offering from one enemy to another—no, this time they're standing close, as friends and equals.

At least, that's how she feels—she can only hope he feels the same. She looks up at him, her eyes searching the familiar lines of his face, before taking the saber from his upturned palm. She handles it more carefully than she did last time, not that it's necessary, turning it over in her hands and testing its weight.

"It is lighter than the last one," she says without really thinking, an absent sort of observation. She curls her fingers around the hilt, but even though this one is shorter and lighter the lightsaber still feels unnatural in her grip, almost awkward. "You never told me how your master's lightsaber came to you."

Her tone is subdued, like a gentle prompting. He can tell her the story—or not—and either way she won't be upset. The past is painful for the both of them.

"It's only meant to be one," Cal says, laughing lightly. "My master's, his was originally a double-bladed lightsaber. One end was damaged that day when... well, when everything happened."

He's a little more prepared to tell about it, at least. It will always be painful, but he's come to terms with it, able to really move forward. It's why he'd really decided to go through with trying to make a new lightsaber here. He wanted something to protect those he'd come to care about in this new place, and to help those that they'd been summoned by.

"Our ship was in Bracca's system, and we were about ready to head out again when something happened. I'd just finished another training exercise, and we had our commander there with us while we awaited our new orders when he suddenly raised his gun to fire at my master." Cal frowns, still unsettled by those moments, by the casual shift in someone he'd considered a comrade to become an enemy. "Master Tapal felt it, something through the Force. He had to strike the commander down, and we'd soon end up having to face our own troops.

"I lost my lightsaber when I was trying to get away since Master Tapal told me to take another way to the escape pods. Ran into some troopers. Thankfully he was there when he was. But I keep thinking...if I hadn't, then maybe..." Maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe they would have had more of a chance. Cal can't help but think those things, but he knows the past is the past. There's no changing what's happened. But it still hurts.

He looks at his empty hands as though trying to remember what his original lightsaber had looked like, curling his fingers to his palm. "We eventually made it to the escape pods," he eventually continues. "More of our troops caught us there, and it was taking me time to get the override for the doors working. We were under heavy fire, but Master Tapal was doing his best to defend us. That's when his lightsaber got damaged." He swallows, those memories seared in his mind. His master faltering, blaster-fire still flying all around them. His fear.

"He fought to protect me, and ended up taking the brunt of the attacks. When he fell, I just..." Fingers brush the scar there on the side of his face as he recalls the burning pain. "I reached out through the Force in desperation. I just wanted them to stop, and somehow I managed to slow them down. Not for long, but enough for us to make it into the pod and escape." Cal closes his eyes. "...there was no saving my master. His injuries were too much. He told me the war wasn't over, and to wait for the Council," he says, shaking his head. A signal from the Council would never come, although Cal had still clung onto the hope of one for some time even after that. But that hope had eventually faded. He lets out a slow breath.

"...he pushed the lightsaber into my hands, telling me to trust only in the Force. And then...I was alone."

Merrin falls silent while he tells the story, her eyes never leaving his face. He'd told her that he knew what it was like to lose everything, just as she did, and she'd believed him, but this... this deep well of pain and loss and grief is almost palpable to her, and so, so familiar that she can feel her heart ache inside her chest.

Her fingers tighten around the lightsaber in her grasp, knuckles clenched. So this is what he'd survived. When everything had changed for him. She watches his fingers graze the scar that runs through his jaw, an answer to a question she hadn't realized she'd asked.

Wordlessly, she reaches for his hand, balled into a fist, and takes it in her own. The touch doesn't come naturally to her, after six years completely on her own, and so her movements are halting, a little unsure, as her fingers curl around his, urging them to relax.

"I am sorry, Cal," she says quietly, her expression open, vulnerable, sincere. The words don't feel like they're nearly enough, but words like this don't really come naturally to her either. "I understand," she adds. What it's like to feel failure. To lose everyone and everything you loved. To be left alone.

It's that careful touch that coaxes him away from the pain of that day, away from the memories that still haunt him, to focus on the present. Cal's hand relaxes hesitantly, but no amount of wondering on the what-if's would bring his master back. Slowly the tension of his fingers eases.

There aren't words enough for such things, but he sees it in her face, hears it in her tone, the things that can't be framed verbally, the sentiment of an empathetic heart. It's because she truly does understand that those few, simple words hold ground. He nods once. "I know," he replies quietly.

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