ximilia ✧ contact

[realists]

// kestrel

TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO

XIMILIA

Comments

{ holiday gift }

[drawsblood]

[ He knows she already has a pair that do the job, but what if they're in the wash, or something happens to them? That's why Joric requests this stylish thing at the supply drop off for Jyn. He has no idea what her size is, so he literally gives a guess (short woman who eats a ton but never seems to get any larger size). It shows up outside her door because he doesn't know how to be normal and hand over a gift in person. He hopes it fits or she has a belt. Enjoy? ]

[ present ]

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton hopes Jyn enjoys this very soft, cute, and kind of alarmingly anatomically-correct hoodie that he has wrapped and dropped off at her room. The size might be a little on the large side, but it more than makes up for any excess bagginess with comfort. A note scrawled in extremely poor handwriting is attached to the outside.]

Stay warm out there!
--Clayton

text - un; nightmoves

[ruinously]

Hey. Sorry I went AWOL. Went home again.

You can keep the books.

[realists]

[ on one hand, jyn likes dean and she is glad he is back. on the other hand, her abandonment issues have abandonment issues and she is irrationally mad he left as if a. he had a choice or b. she means that much to him and vice versa for it to matter. her abandonment issues also have self-worth issues. ]

I was only holding them hostage.

Did you find your friend there?

[ruinously]

[ He understands this deeply. His brother left him to fucking rot in Purgatory and he has somee Feelings about it. ]

I did. It got complicated...and then I lost him again.

[realists]

Sorry

[ she's hasn't gotten better at comfort in two weeks. ]

[ruinously]

It is what it is.

You good?

[realists]

I hate ships

[ every time they come back to the ximilia she hates it, recycled air and climate control. the beds are nice, but everything else makes her feel trapped. ]

[ruinously]

I don’t think I do either. I did at first, I’d never been on one. But now it just kinda reminds me how claustrophobic I can be.

[realists]

I was on a ship for six months straight, I prefered prison

[ literal torture was better. ]

[ruinously]

can't say I blame you there. least in prison i had daylight hours

you know, on solid ground, and it isn't a sim

[realists]

Yeah, exactly

Breathe real air

Why were you in?

[ruinously]

breaking and entering, credit card fraud, digging up graves. one time we went in on purpose to help a friend of our dads out. bunch of inmates were getting murdered by a bitch of a dead nurse

text | un; 20/20

[hindsights]

Hey. Hope you're doing okay since... the last one.

I wanted to ask you a question, but you don't have to answer. It's personal. [ fair warning. ]

[realists]

What is the question?

[hindsights]

Where'd you get your necklace?

[realists]

It was my mother's

[hindsights]

A family heirloom?

[realists]

No

My parents were scientists, my father studied crystals and he gave it to her. She believed in the force.

[hindsights]

Do you? Believe in it, I mean.

[realists]

Does it matter?

[hindsights]

Yeah.

Humor me.

1/2

[realists]

You're not going to like it.

2/2

[realists]

I don't have to believe. Saw told me it was real, he'd seen Jedi use the force. But the Jedi are all dead and the force now is just an excuse for people to do nothing because all is as the force wills it. Tyranny, the Empire, barely anyone will stand up against them because they beat the Jedi so what use is the force to the people that it abandoned?

My mother told me to trust in the force before she abandoned me, and I watched Death Troopers murder her. I was eight.

[hindsights]

[ she was right to warn him. he doesn't like it. not because there's plenty to see behind the words that aches. it's loss, grief.

he takes a deep breath and reaches out to the force where he's sitting, to recenter himself before he replies. there's nothing he can say about the loss, on why that was written into being. too many children became orphans during the clone wars, more after and cal knows loss deeply but he can't even picture his own mother's face. ] I'm sorry. About your Mother.

But we're not all dead. [ both feel like flimsy platitudes and at the same time, maybe, maybe they'll spark the same spark of hope he'd felt when he'd learned he wasn't alone out there. ]