Whatever, I'm Getting Cheese Fries

[Wyl Staedtler]

The first breath: he opened his eyes and the slip of her black blouse lay on the floor in a soft and twisted heap, a shroud of graceful silk. It had always stretched faintly across her shoulders, meant for someone with a slighter build instead of the broad stretch of her own bones. He had a memory (quiet, faint, like the static hum of a power cell) of her eyes in a mirror, studying the pulling fabric; the corners of her mouth had twitched downward and she had sighed once, swift and disappointed. She straightened, then, and pressed her shoulders back (an apology for her momentary self-doubt?) before she caught his gaze and smiled. It was the swiftness of her changing mood that had intrigued him. Young boyhood was riddled with minor tragedies soon forgotten but even Wyl hadn't been able to shake himself from his grievances with the sort of grim and steadied determination that she'd always seemed to possess. Perhaps it was a gift of prophecy. Had she known how easily the blouse would one day shrug away from her? Had she foreseen the way it would rip like a spinner's weave at the first blaster bolt, abandoning her as she tried to stop from falling by catching hold of the kitchen table? The exact angles of his mother's face no longer resonated in Wyl's mind and he'd long since forgotten the pitch of her voice, but he could never shake free from that gossamer pile of fabric left abandoned on the floor as he fled far, far, as far away as -

The second breath: he opened his eyes and inhaled sharply. Waking up was like coming to life again and Wyl was startled by the abrupt clarity that rose to greet him. Just as quickly, the feeling faded into one of begrudging annoyance as he twisted to slap a hand down onto his bedside chrono. The shrill alarm fell silent. A chuff of breath fled Wyl and he flopped back into his bed, nursing the low irritation with no small amount of smug self-indulgence. Mornings were not terrible in and of themselves but the routine they had come to represent sometimes felt like a very insistent rock mass stacked upon his lungs in a diligent attempt to turn them into a pulpy mass.

He had appointments to keep. There was a benign structure to the day. An order. Things flowed and came together in relative harmony.

It made Wyl want to retch.

Stars alive, there was nothing wrong with a bit of neatness but he had the nagging sensation that his life was becoming the living embodiment of very dry toast and the urge to simply roll over and ignore the litany of here-and-there's that awaited him was stifling. Wyl hesitated, his legs shifting under his blanket. Was there really a reason to deny such a heavy feeling of resistance? Perhaps this was, in fact, a message from the Force and if that were so, who was he to deny it? The boy's eyes shifted to the floor.

Empty, but for a lonely sock.

Well then. That decided it. His dreams didn't have energy enough to linger on into the light of day, and Wyl wasn't going to venture out either. He was obliged to stay here and chase after them. It could be argued that his own inner peace - that rare and so cherished possession! - depended on it. At the very least, his sanity hinged upon being let loose from time constraints and his growing teenage frame had more than earned the extra hours of rest. Suitably convinced by himself, Wyl rolled over onto his belly and shoved his head under his pillow.

The third breath: a slow, satisfied exhalation.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

A bit breathless from being outside, Draiya skidded to a stop next to the door of the prefabricated dormitory. They had a pretty good game of turboball going on at the quad, but a few of the padawans had been called away to various duties, and they were now a man short. Shifting her grasp of the ball in her other hand, Draiya could feel a presence behind the door in question. Who stayed in their quarters at this hour? Were they sick? Playing hooky? Who cared.

Draiya knocked.

"Hey."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl managed a very eloquent grunt. He did not bother to mask his disdain. Anyone who insisted on disturbing him when it was clear that he didn't want to be disturbed (he could feel the subtle poke of another consciousness against his own, that tremulous nudge of recognition through the Force, and he in turn did his best to send a concentrated thrum of nogoawaynotinterestedno back) didn't deserve the courtesy of manufactured civility. That was doubly true for anyone who fell within the bracket of his age range and who ought to have had empathy for the tragedy that was his life at this hour. Wyl would not entertain the unhinged intrusions of a mad... he paused, unfurling his awareness out in a slow, perforating curl - ah, yes. Woman. That explained a lot, actually.

"My verbal response is in no way an actual acknowledgement of your presence," Wyl said. His voice was throaty and further muffled by his bedding. Sighing, he turned his face to the side and lifted the edge of his pillow up. "Don't take it as an invitation to loiter. Move along." Limply, he waved a hand in the general direction of his door. "I am not the one you're looking for."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"We'rre playing turrboball."

Draiya's face turned into a frown. He sounded about her age. Who turned down a good game? What was his excuse? The Syragori brushed a sweaty strand of brunette hair from her dirty face, and dribbled the gravity-assisted ball a few times on the door for effect.

"Come on. Don't be lame."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"And I'm unlamely sleeping. There. We've had a lovely, open moment of sharing. Wrap it up tightly and may it keep you warm during your quest for another player." Wyl's blanket had slipped down during his rolling about and he tugged it back up again, covering the bared expanse of his arms. He had no intention of getting sweaty at this point of his day but he wasn't without a sense of mercy and hopefully that would be enough to save him a measure of hassle here. "Try Bopie down the hall. He's got a big head but if he's on the other team, you're golden. Makes an easy target."

That ought to have been it. Wyl was clear and concise. What he'd said couldn't be confused for anything other than what it was: a dismissal.

And yet he could still feel the buzz of another mind close to his.

Narrowing his eyes, Wyl lifted his head enough to stare at his door. "You're still there," he called. "You're hovering."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Smirking, Draiya sat against the boy's door. Her right hand splayed its fingers wide, and the turboball hovered above her grasp. It had taken her a long time to figure out telekinesis, and she still didn't have the control of other students her age, but she was getting better. The ball began to spin quickly through the air, and Draiya bounced it across the walls a few times to make a tremendous racket before catching the ball once more.

He was being difficult. Suddenly Draiya's expression turned sly...


...and an illusion of Draiya appeared at where she imagined the foot of his bed ought to be. The illusion crossed her arms defiantly.

"Wake up alrready you dorrk, orr I'll tell Loki you'rre sleeping in!"

[Kazahan]

"This one is wondering what is taking so long, Draiya," the large Trianii said directly behind the younger girl. He'd done his best to sneak up on her, but it was a fact he wasn't sure he liked that his experiences as a Trianii ranger were eclipsed by Draiya's innate skill for the subtle crafts of illusion and sneakery. But as with all things, he would only have to learn more, to gain more experience, and he would be able to best her. Or not. Such is the way of the world, or galaxy, no?

"We will be more than one player short this one expects, if this takes any longer. Is the victim — er, new recruit — in here?"

He gandered at the dormitory door obscurely. He glanced at the younger girl mischievously.

"Kazahan has learned to manipulate things, like door locks, now," he said softly so as to not be heard by the recalcitrant other behind the door. "Shall I try to open it?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

Sometimes (most times), Wyl wasn't really sure where he stood on the silently accepted Don't Hit Girls principle. He'd grown up in a time and neighborhood where a certain stigma followed the men who did that, namely in that they were considered unmitigated creeps not worth the fifteen-credit body disposal fee that civil legislature charged when one of them was found laid out flat somewhere. Wyl's accent had long since become a shadow of it's former self, the clean Core lilt muddied as he grew into himself against an ever-changing backdrop, but there were some home ties that were harder to shake than others. His reluctance to lump himself in with all-brawlers was one of them. As he lay there stewing in time to the godsawful thunking of the turboball, Wyl reminded himself that he was much too old now to let himself be bullied into something against his inclination. Especially by such juvenile methods.

Then again, if his relationship with Tak had taught Wyl anything it was that sometimes the most disrespectful thing in the world was to try and be a gentleman. The trick about women was never to treat them reasonably (because they defied all reason) and it was a hell of a mistake to underestimate them just because of something as arbitrary as gender. Hell, he could think of at least a dozen females off the top of his head who he'd need to attack if he was interested in preserving his physical wellbeing.

Caught between drawing up his list of said females and easing his head out from under the pillow, the young Padawan was distracted. Enough so that when he sat up and found himself rather determinedly not alone in his own quarters, Wyl barked out a sharp curse and jerked violently to the left (perhaps in an attempt to hide his hydospanner-print boxer shorts) where sadly, his mattress abandoned him. He toppled onto the floor in an ungainly heap of elbows and sheets. His heart thunked in that way of organs not used to such flamboyant starts in the first waking hours and Wyl got furiously to his feet as he felt his mouth twisting into a scowl. Whatever scathing epithet he'd been about to deliver died on his tongue in a sad hiss of breath.

Someone outside was talking to the girl inside his room as if she was still out there. Which made perfect sense, actually, if he actually stopped to consider it. If he put aside his meandering personal thoughts and outrage (roguish delight?) at being caught out in his skivs by some strange chick, if he actually concentrated on the here and now and the nuances of his surroundings and the way that there was something not quite filled out in the figure before him, like watching the perfect shadow of a person dancing across asphalt at high noon.

Wyl blushed. He felt foolish for reacting so suddenly and it was with as much dignity as he could muster that he pulled on the first pair of loose training trousers he laid hold of from his cabinet and strode to his door. It opened with a smooth hiss.

"That won't be necessary," Wyl said dryly. He eyes shifted to Draiya and he raised an eyebrow in mild challenge. "Go ahead. Don't forget to take a toothbrush with you," his blue eyes widened and he shook his head faintly, one shoulder hitching up in a shrug. "I mean, if you're going to go through all the effort of crawling that far up his backside, you might as well be a dear and give him a good clean out." Once more Wyl glanced between the two intruders as he arranged himself against his doorframe, arms crossing over his bare chest. His skin was prickling at the cool air, goosebumps rising and casting a twitch into the muscles of his lower back. "So what, this game going by league rules or are we talking Corellian full-contact?

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

So much had changed, and so much had become like some crazy storm of horrible things. Life just wasn't fair, and even though Zem was always kind and attentive, Teagan still couldn't help the horrible gnawing at her insides whenever she thought of how things used to be. It was why her pillow was usually stained with tears every night.

But now, today, she hoped to regain some of the old days, and quietly making her way down the narrow corridor of the dormitories, the little Lupine stuffed her hands into her pockets, eyes to the ground as she rounded a corner.

Her gaze lifted, and she came to an abrupt halt at the sight that met her.

Wyl standing in his doorway was enough to bring a ghostly smile to her face, but it was quickly quenched as her gaze fell on the others there with him.

She blinked, bit her lower lip, and ever-so-slowly started forward once more, one foot going hesitantly in front of the other.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"So what, this game going by league rules or are we talking Corellian full-contact?"

Draiya's response was simply to slam the turboball between her two hands so that it made a terrific din in the confines of the dormitory hall. She smirked at the human boy, daring him to doubt her resolve.

"Afrraid you'll mess up yourr looks if I don't play nice?"

Another kid walked up the corridor, and Draiya's eyes tracked the blonde as she approached timidly. Not a threat. Draiya doubled down on her smirk, and ignored Tak, looking back at Wyl once more.

[Kazahan]

"This one was under the impression that the league rules were Corellian full-contact."

Kazahan stood, and regarded the boy that stood there. Oddly enough, he was dressed similarly to the towering Trianii, who was wearing a pair of trousers that tied off at the ankle as his only article of clothing. Several strategic tears and rips allowed for good airflow, which kept the garment from becoming too stifling and hot.

"Corellian full-contact only suitable rules for the game, no?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Are you even capable of playing nice? That'd be news to, oh, just about everyone here," Wyl snorted and shook his head. It was a massive stretch to say that he knew all of his peers on Ossus but everyone had at least a passing familiarity with each other and some had a more proclaimed reputation than others. Naaianeya was a bellowing roar in a chorus of woven harmonics. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing but so newly acclimated to the woken world, Wyl had to shore himself up against falling into the sort of easy complacency that would urge her delusions of grandeur and make her assume he was a scrawny, bedheaded doormat. Or, the boy mused wryly as he swallowed a yawn, further fuel those assumptions, since he was pretty sure that Naaianeya didn't see anyone as competition.

With an appreciative nod in the Trianii's direction, Wyl pushed against the doorframe with his shoulder and straightened up. "It's the only way to play, if you - " but that was as far as he got because quite suddenly the world narrowed and became a single, shuffling shape that was so intimately familiar that Wyl felt his own bones ache with the echo of recognition. Unaware that he was holding his breath, the boy pushed past his two would-be kidnappers and staggered to a stop a few steps later. Sharp, wondrous disbelief bled into his face and Wyl's mouth gaped wordlessly for a moment.

"Tak?" He finally managed, voice a scraping of sound, and what he meant was Fang, and what he meant was is that really you?, and what he meant was you cannot possibly know how wrong everything has felt until now because until now, I didn't either.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

The grin came unbidden to her face, and Teagan pulled a hand from her trouser pockets to give a timid wave.

Of course her grin grew, and before a second had passed it was a wide smile. He'd grown, but she would recognize his scent anywhere, and his telltale Force color was so unique to only him...

... it made her feel so close to crying.

Instead, Teagan let out a happy hurff, and before she knew it she was before him. Less than a moment later, both arms came up to wrap around him, pulling the boy into a tight hug. He was her rock, the only thing that she knew was a constant in her suddenly tumultuous life, and in that moment the little Lupine clung to him like a life line. She held him tight for fear that he'd disappear.

"I missed you," she managed to whisper, her voice excited and happy and relieved and jubilant.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya rolled her eyes, sighing impatiently at the saccharine display before them. She glanced back to Kazahan, wondering if he was similarly unmoved by the mushy goings-on.

"Like I was saying..."

Seeing that her invitation to sporting competition was playing second fiddle to mushier goings-on, Draiya dribbled the ball on the floor noisily.

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl's arms had very nearly forgotten the weight and shape of Teagan, but muscle memory was a powerful force. The slow bleed of his shock faded into delight and as she lurched forward, his arms spread in the exact way they needed to in order to absorb the impact of her and keep her tucked against him. It was awkward, the way the wisps of her hair caught in his eyes as he bowed his head against hers, and Wyl grinned as he blinked and turned his face, reveling in the brilliant realness of it. Not even the impatient disdain from Draiya could dampen the moment. In one swift turn, Wyl had found home again. He let out a breath and then pulled back enough to look down at Tak's face, eagerly seeking to catch her eyes.

"I missed you too. Nothing's been... it's all, I mean. Tak. You're here," Wyl grinned. "I was just - " and it was then that he realized how utterly depressing and reclusive lying in my bed planning to avoid the all of everything sounded. Wyl faltered and mentally swerved. "Uh, going to play some turboball," he gestured vaguely to the pair behind him. "Apparently. You in?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Looking around him, Teagan eyed the girl and the felinoid curiously before giving Wyl her full attention once more. She gave him a little lopsided grin in return, and a slight blush as she let the reality of the last few seconds sink further in. Maybe things were starting to look up? Everything had been such a whirlwind of events since he'd left, and without him to center her, she'd been a little bit lost.

"I've never played," she finally admitted, but soon followed that with a shrug.

"But I'll still play if you teach me how."

There was so much they had to catch up on, and so so much more that she had to tell him of. Not to mention, she was dying to know where he'd been since leaving.

"Afterwards, you wanna get some dinner together?"

[Kazahan]

"Dinner sounds lovely, Kazahan would love to join!" Kazahan said, perking up at the mention of food. "But first..."

He snatched the ball from Draiya's hands, and held it up above her when she tried to reach for it.

"First, it is time for turboball. Kazahan needs to work up an appetite, you see."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya leapt after her stolen ball, irritation on her face as Kazahan successfully played a round of keep-away from the much shorter human girl. She shrugged off the minor humiliation, elbowing Kazahan in the belly to see if he'd give up the rock that way. Of course not, he was a mountain. Instead, Draiya leaned against the Trianii, crossing her arms as she gave Tak a nonchalant look.

"Rrules arre simple. Two teams of fourr. Goals aparrt at fifty meterrs. We meet in the centerr to scrrum overr the ball. Whoeverr gets it trries forr the goal. A kick overr the line without bouncing is one point. Carry the ball overr and its seven. Play to fifty. You can pass forrwarrd orr back. Thrree downs orr knee touches and ball changes hands."

Draiya sized the blonde girl up, stepping away from Kazahan as she put her hands on her hips.

"Hope you can take a hit. We play to win."

[Wyl Staedtler]

It didn't matter that she'd never played before. All that mattered was that Tak was willing to play because having the desire and being able to follow-through meant that she was here. She might have been the worst turboball player to ever grace the galaxy's courts but what counted was that Wyl could tease her for it in person, see the scowl blossom on her face and laugh through the wonderful pain that the inevitable punch to the arm that she'd doll out would bring. The grin that stretched across his face was starting to hurt. Could a person die from being this happy so early in the day? It didn't feel natural. His poor body was going to go up in smoke with the effort of processing such a heavy load of social progress.

"She can take a hit," Wyl assured Draiya, his eyes warm with pride as he winked at Tak. It sounded like getting dinner alone was going to be hard to negotiate, not without blatantly rejecting Kazahan and shutting the guy out in the cold. A flinch in Wyl's expression promised her that they'd escape after though, the unspoken language of friends working in his mouth's stead.

"You'll love this, Tak," Wyl said as he half-turned, planted firmly in the middle of their little gathering. "So, we got stakes on this match?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

The dark haired girl's words made her pull a strange face, and Teagan sent an odd look her way before settling rather easily into the group. Her eyes moved to the monolithic Trianii (he was easily as tall as many of the giant sentinel guards back on Cathar), and for a moment she had to wonder if he'd somehow taken a wrong turn and ended up on Ossus instead of Cathar itself. She could almost even see the gold flecked ceremonial armor on him, the massive shield on his back, and the heavy spear in his hand...

The young Lupine closed her eyes and shook her head to rid the vision from her sight, and when she looked again, he was as he was before; no shirt and ventilated pants.

Wyl spoke again, and it drew her attention further back to the here and now, and crossing her arms, she waited for the others to answer. Since this was her first game, she figured it best to stay out of any betting situations.

Well, for now at least.

[Kazahan]

"Kazahan does not think we should be betting today," the Trianii hummed in his throaty gravelly voice. "Kazahan would end up much more wealthy, but all of you would be much poorer for the lesson. Kazahan is much, much bigger than you all, you see. This one should have a handicap if playing against you all."

The younger girl's attention hadn't gone unnoticed; and Kazahan's admittedly weak skill at sensing emotion in the Force meant he only caught a whiff of what seemed like nostalgia. No, it was mrangiir, which meant 'a sense of the past, or a moment, relived clearly'. As opposed to mrangla — a sense of the past or a moment relived with a sense of distance and loss due to the passage of time. Obvious, those. But he pulled his thoughts away from the girl and focused on Wyl and Draiya, a competitive flick of his tail punctuating his statement.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"So, we got stakes on this match?"

Draiya struck a confident smile.

"I like the way you think. Let's go see who Jamis managed to scrrounge up forr his team and make it interresting. Say like...loserrs do the winnerrs laundrry forr a week!"

In a concerted leap, Draiya made for a surprise takeaway, jumping to snatch the ball out of Kazahan's paws as she sprinted out the door, dribbling it as she went.

"Snooze you lose, beanpole! You guys coming orr what?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Kazahan should have seen that one coming," Wyl intoned with a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows up at the Trianii as Draiya broke away with the ball. The cobwebs of lazy slumber were well stowed now, threads snapped by the joyous shock of Tak's return and the easy rhythm that camaraderie brought. It was nice to find himself stitched into a group (however unexpected and invasive it had been) outside of classes, where the pressure of developing was neatly kicked in the backside by it's cooler cousin, fun.

With a gentle hand, Wyl reached out and tapped Teagan's elbow before he nodded after the disappearing Draiya.

"C'mon then," he said, "we can't let her get too far ahead or else her ego will grow and, frankly, I doubt Ossus has the atmospheric stability to sustain something that immense. Oi, Naaianeya!"

Wyl shook the lead out and ran after the girl, lifting a hand as he did and yanking the ball out of her grasp with the Force as it bounced up toward her palm. Regulations didn't apply outside of official playtime. It snapped through the air obediently and sailed backwards into his grasp, striking against his hands with a satisfyingly flat slap. Wyl grinned toothily. "Here's hoping you're not that easy to intercept when it counts, yeah?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

She watched for only a moment as Wyl ran off after the other girl, feeling a sudden sense of joy at having settled once more into the arms of something so familiar. Though they'd grown since they'd last seen one another, Teagan knew Wyl. She knew him and would never forget him; that certain scent that he had, the warmth and bubbling excitement that he held deep inside. It was undying, and for the familiarity that he offered, the young Lupine was happy. It caused a grin to cross her features, and the girl looked up at the Trianii as both started off after the others.

"Is it fun? Turboball, I mean."

[Kazahan]

"Anything can be fun, given the right attitude," Kazahan replied cheerfully. "A game won or lost can be either fun or irritating, depending on yourself. This one just wants to perform as well as I can, which is excellently. It will not be fun if Kazahan does not feel as if I am putting forth my best effort or at the very least feeling myself get better at it."

He laughed, which was just as gravelly and rough as his voice. Wyl and Draiya's voices, full of an impetuousness and verve that was all the domain of youth, carried back to him.

"But turboball is fun," he answered finally. "Especially when the game is close and everyone must give their all to win. At least, that is what this one thinks is the most fun."