Ask Nothing Gold Can Stay

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal only laughed that short, barking laugh of his in response. The boatman's opinion of the tattoos seemed ironclad, but so was the young Jedi's. It didn't matter if the other man didn't agree or understand or whatever it was. These tattooed scars of his were for himself, after all.

At close range he looked over the scars Emryc carried as well. He made no judgement of his choice to keep it as it was but rather observed them from a medical perspective, looking at the patterning and initial impact site while he could. It was easy enough to tell the injury had been far from pleasant. Quietly he wondered what dark warrior he'd encountered to receive such an injury, and what skills he might possess himself to have survived.

"Maybe they don't," he answered breezily, waving his hand through the air and causing the image to briefly blur. "But they don't have to, either." While he was far more open than he'd been once upon a time he still didn't particularly want to burden others with the weight he carried overmuch if he could avoid it. The idea made him uncomfortable.

Emryc stretched, moving to stand, and the projection began to fade as Hannibal drew back from the connection. He was fairly sure trying to project an image of consistent movement would be more nauseating than helpful. Emerald eyes watched the other man for a couple seconds. Hannibal shrugged and stood up himself, brushed some of the dirt from his pants, briefly looked at some the newly squashed plants, and then followed up behind toward the hill.

This also gave him a good look at the lash marks across the boatman's back, new and old. These weren't injuries he was as familiar with. Although whip marks weren't uncommon amongst freed slaved those were inflicted by another and these looked different. More obviously self inflicted.

"I gotta know. How long did it take you to build that boat of yours?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc could vaguely agree with the other man. However, he knew his own life would be significantly less drama if people simply took him at face value. The half Sephi walked in silence, bringing a flower stem up to chew on as he did. In the distance he could make out the vague shapes of what he guessed were mountains.

Keen ears picked up that the man had also decided to take a stroll with him. Emryc often recalled data he had collected internally and it served to keep the picture of the man in his mind. He couldn’t recall the name, but he would never forget those eyes or that grin that had caught his attention years ago. Emryc recalled how he had a difficult time keeping his eyes off the other man. The thought brought a grin, the stem twirling between his lips.

He was only vaguely aware of the man’s question and for a moment it would appear as if he didn’t hear him. Emryc walked till he stood at the top of the hill, Force Sight providing him more vivid outlines of the mountains in the distance.

“I kept building till it was done,” Emryc stated with a vague shrug. Out here the sense of time was not something he tracked too closely. He was vaguely aware of days passing and his own hair gave some clues. The half Sephi had a habit of giving unsatisfactory answers to questions or none at all, and most of the time he didn’t realize he was doing it.

He paused where he stood, vacantly in thought. After a moment he grimaced slightly, “Think I enjoy looking at you more than these outlines,” He said flatly.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal crested the hill just behind the other man, eyes leaving his back to look out over the far away mountains. Trees and stone formations covered them, leaving them very green at this distance, and some were even snow-capped and white near the top. The sight distracted him from his own question in the silence, at least until he got an answer.

Of course it wasn't the most specific, but it did tell him he hadn't kept track of how long so, really, it was just a straight answer. The boatman seemed to just be full of those. Hannibal's thoughts wandered freely from there, imagining the perspective of someone else wandering onto this specific scene.

Two handsome shirtless men standing atop a grassy hill and gazing out across the land toward the mountains, one bronzed, scarred, and bearded, the other heavily and colourfully tattooed and missing an arm. Idly he wondered what the ordinary villagers would make of such a sight and chuckled to himself.

"Huh?" He was drawn back to where he was by the boatman speaking. Hannibal blinked and turned to look at him. "Oh. Is that right?" The young Jedi's little smirk returned to his face along with the playful tone. Outlines? He supposed it did make sense he could get something out of the Force given the boating, but vague shapes didn't sound particularly interesting. Hannibal tried to imagine the mountains without all the colour and had some difficulty, brows furrowing, then shrugged and gave up.

"What's the fascination? I can do mountains too, y'know."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc could hear the amusement in the man’s tone, but otherwise there were more questions and games thrown back at him, none of which he cared to play. The half Sephi quietly stared out towards the outlines of mountains. His thoughts returned to Naboo and the Gallo Mountains, stunning views that he could gaze at from the Queen’s palace. His mind soared towards those perfect greens, the snow capped mountains that sometimes disappeared into the clouds, the taste of tea on his lips, the polite voice of the Queen. He missed polite and coy above all. It didn’t exist out here and he didn’t realize he developed a fondness for it.

He was tugged back to the present when the man mentioned something about doing mountains. Emryc looked towards the outlines, thinking back to his memories of when he was Emryc Thorne. He truly was Rick now, and Rick’s world consisted of crude outlines and ghosts of what once was. It was pain and anger, but he had to find his tranquility through it. Any image the man projected would only be a manufactured reflection and never the real thing. It would be as superficial as the man himself.

Emryc ran his fingers through his hair, spitting out the flower stem. That frustration from being blind began to return again and with it memories that caused nothing but pain. His fingers curled into fists, but he slowly relaxed them with an exhale.

“Getting late,” He stated vaguely, “Jedi like you probably has some life saving business to tend to,” He grumbled as he turned and began to walk back towards the boat. Emryc stretched and flexed his arms, deciding he liked the effort of rowing the boat physically more than using the Force.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

The other man's frustration was not lost on the young Jedi next to him. His face was difficult to read to Hannibal's eye but the things he felt sometimes slipped through and coloured how he was seen and understood. It told him something of the boatman, that he tensed again and took a breath to let it pass. This man was simple and straightforward in many ways, but Hannibal wondered if that was all there was to it.

Somehow he doubted it.

Hannibal turned on the hill to look as the boatman gave his grumpy dismissal and headed back down to his craft. Very casually he strolled along after him, looking idly out over the lake past the boat itself.

"Could be why I'm here," he mused aloud. Sometimes he just happened to be in the right place while something was happening. This agrarian planet was also just the sort of place he came to re-center himself after being out and about in the galaxy's towering spires and rushing ships. Hard to tell until something presented itself, he supposed, but this mysterious Force-using boat-maker was certainly not what he'd expected to find out in the middle of nowhere.

"Dunno yet. Not gonna complain about the bronzed, buff boatman that I've stumbled across, though."

Hannibal was quiet again as they approached the boat, grass shifting and crunching beneath their bare feet along the way. Wind rustled the grass gently, the slender blades waving to and fro around their long strides. A deep sigh came from somewhere behind where the young Jedi was walking. This wasn't a situation he felt inclined to ignore.

"Look, uh... he paused a moment. "I can understand things being off, or-" he interrupted himself again, clicking his tongue in an irritated sort of way. "Things are karked sometimes and it sucks, and I'd like to share my perspective if you'll share yours."

Hannibal coughed and cleared his throat awkwardly, stopping by the boat.

"Don't suppose there's alcohol in this village," he mumbled, leaning over into the boat to fish for his cigarras again.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was about to step into the boat when the man spoke. He didn’t have to look at the man for him to know the half Sephi was giving him a very blank stare. Emryc quietly got into the boat and waited for the man to get in. He grabbed the oars and gently pushed them back and into the waters. There was almost an amused look on his face as he began to row them back.

“You can talk at me all you want, prettyboy,” He stated simply. Emryc had absolutely no intention of sharing any perspectives on anything, finding the entire notion silly. He spoke when he needed to, and never outside of that. For him, nothing was off. Everything was as it was meant to be. It simply took him longer to arrive at things.

Emryc began to row faster and move them back towards the village. While it took effort, it was oddly calming for him. It reminded him of his very rigid training routines. While he continued them to a degree, he simply didn’t have the equipment he normally used.

“Alcohol,” He said, “And a lot of sexually frustrated women,” Emryc grinned, though he avoided investigating for himself, “The men aren’t as appealing,” He added flatly. Emryc paused for a moment to light the e-cigarra and put it between his lips before he continued.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal stared back a little awkwardly, lips slightly pursed. He sighed again, although more resigned than determined like the last time, and climbed into the boat. Expecting an answer from the strange boatman didn't seem likely, particularly since, after all, they'd essentially just met.

The young Jedi settled into the boat after retrieving his cigarras, leaning into the same corner as the last time and getting as comfortable as possible. A brow raised as he caught the expression on the other man's face, taking him a moment to translate it into a feeling with it's general subtlety, until he spoke again.

Hannibal blinked and let out a short laugh before placing the cigarra in his lips to light it. Clearly talking about it wasn't the man's thing. What a great surprise that was.

"Guess I'll take ya up on that offer then, o' captain my captain." He seemed to perk up in tone after the awkward sort of moment there. "Hope you like stories." He turned to look out over the landscape once more, as the last time, although it was the opposite side of the river. This place was all new to him and he was enjoying taking it in.

"Sexually frustrated and drama, eh? And no native 'pretty boys'? Hannibal glanced over at the boatman. "Well. I guess there's you, but you're more of a buff handsome type than pretty."

He breathed in and then exhaled a cloud of smoke, fingers idly tapping away at the side of the boat and speaking around the cigarra.

"Can I try that electronic thing you're going at?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

The heat began to ease off as the winds picked up. He tilted his head up and began to sniff the air. A faint grimace appeared on his face, clouds beginning to gather above them as the winds grew cooler. Emryc focused back on the other man as he spoke, describing how he saw him. He was vaguely reminded of the projection of himself, once again finding the contrast between his muscles and the details of his face entertaining.

Emryc found the description especially amusing, his mind going back to his time as Emryc Thorne and the ISC. Media always portrayed him as handsome or pretty boy with his perfectly clean shaven face and piercing eyes. He didn’t doubt that his face splashed across all forms of media with speculation and rumors about his death.

He didn’t correct the other man that he wasn’t a native - the man seemed intelligent enough to deduce that himself. Little drops of rain began to land on him, though he didn’t appear fazed. A drizzle soon began, thunder rumbling above.

Emryc was silent after the man’s request. He visibly stiffened slightly when asked, his thoughts going back to how he had acquired the e-cigarra. He drew from it and blew out a cloud of smoke, “No,” He stated icily before putting it into the corner of his lips. He didn’t bother explaining why. This and the comically brightly colored lunchbox were completely off limits by penalty of death. Luckily anyone around him had picked up on that without Emryc needing to demonstrate.

He kept rowing back to the village, some of the huts and buildings becoming slowly visible in the far distance. The rain picked up by now, beginning to soak them both.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

There was a shift in the air as the boat traveled down the river, water splashing gently against the sides of the wooden craft. Hannibal's head moved almost reluctantly away from the landscape to look instead at sky that gathered clouds. Dark grays and blacks slid through to overtake blues and wispy whites, the temperature dropping as the winds that brought them reached the two men on the river.

Some fish came up closer to the surface as the initial sprinklings of rain fell to the surface, emerald eyes watching them with some amusement. Just before the boatman's answer to his question his head turned toward him, catching that stiffening and surprised by the chill in the single word. Hannibal wondered why the object so was important, a brow raising, but he couldn't rightly protest the decision. He had his own collection of things on his ship, some very mundane, that he held dear for the memories or meaning they contained.

The young Jedi actually smiled a little after another moment as the rain picked up.

"Yeah, alright," he said amiably, covering the end of the cigarra with a hand for one final drag before he let the building rain put it out, tossing it into the portable ashtray. Didn't look like his clothes in the boat were going to dry anytime soon.

Which meant a boat delivering two shirtless men would soon be arriving at the village, judging from the buildings coming into view behind the sheets of falling rain. The thought gave Hannibal a brief chuckle, fingers combing through his hair to get the soaked strands away from his face.

"Gonna join you in drying off, uh. Wherever it is you're going, if you don't mind."

Idly he caught some raindrops with a flicker of the Force, arranging them into the shapes of animals for fun until they reached the village. He seemed entirely unconcerned about all the rain, or even the occasional distant peal of thunder.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was pleased the man didn’t question the curt rejection of his request. There was no doubt that there had been a spike in the Force from that trace of rage, and the man seemed perceptive enough to pick up on it. The half Sephi finished up the e-cigarra as he rowed to shore, getting out and pulling the boat over to land with one arm unceremoniously before the other man even stepped out.

There was no one out due to the storm, and this meant Emryc didn’t need to pretend to be a regular blind person. He used Force Sight to vaguely pick out his own hut, leading the way for the other man. The only clue that he was all right being followed was his slower pace.

After a while, Emryc led the way to a mud hut with a thatched roof. It was very minimalistic in nature, but everything was perfectly organized and neat. There was a bedroll on the ground in the corner and a small hand crafted cubby that housed his possessions, along with a duffel bag. There were stacks of pages that vaguely implied they were drawings, though it wasn’t clear what.

Emryc walked over to place his e-cigarra in the cubby next to a brightly colored lunchbox. He then walked over towards a small indent in the ground that had been made for a fire and cooking. Knowing that the other man was a Jedi, Emryc had no qualms with calling upon the Force to ignite some sparks and getting a fire going. The little hut would warm up within moments.

He squeezed the water from his hair, running his fingers through the slick strands. He was still not used to having long hair. The half Sephi was quiet as he sat by the fire and combed through his hair with his fingers. Though he said nothing, his demeanor was relaxed and calm enough to make it clear the other man was welcome to make himself at home.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal hopped off the boat and gathered his various articles of rain-soaked clothing into a bundle and tucked it against himself with his one good arm. Bare steps took him casually after the muscular boatman, eyes freely wandering out around the village to see it in a new setting than he had earlier in the day when it was bright and sunny and full of people milling about doing their daily tasks and socializing. Unpaved walkways formed mudded paths throughout.

He was quietly appreciate of the other man's slowed pace considering Hannibal's pre-occupation with his surroundings, although he didn't bother trying to say as much in the middle of a noisy downpour. Instead he eventually refocused on what he was actually doing and followed him to one little hut in particular. Emeralds briefly took in the make and manner of construction before he made a cursory attempt at removing mud from his feet and stepping inside.

Here he looked around just as freely in the personal space, noting the organized cubbies of various things obviously not from this relatively primitive planet. Brows rose slightly as he caught the lunch box the e-cigarra was sat beside. Personally he was more interested in the stacks of paper, gaze lingering on them for an extra second or two before he sat beside the fire the other man began to build up with a flicker of his will on the wood.

Hannibal laid out his clothing near the fire and once more moved his hair from his face, sighing softly in a contented sort of way in the brief quiet of the crackling flame and new warmth that drove off the chill that was gathering from the rain.

"Thanks, appreciate it," he said after he remembered to be polite. This was someone else's home after all.

"Ssssooo... Watcha drawin'?" Hannibal leaned to the left a little to try and get a better look at the pages but stayed far away and where he was. Best not to drip water on things.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc kept combing through the hair till the knots were out, the locks now neatly resting along the back of his neck. He didn’t respond to the other man, grabbing a stick to poke at the fire. It was warm and cozy in the hut, the orange glow lighting up the features of both men. The half Sephi brought up a root to chew on, a habit he had picked up since living in the village. It was oddly soothing and also kept his teeth healthier.

A moment of silence existed between the men as Emryc looked towards the fire in the plane of the Force. The burning energy was vivid in the Force and he found it mesmerizing.

“Do you despise silence?” He cut in after a while as he shifted the root to the corner of his lips, “Or do you simply enjoy the sound of your grating dialect that much?” Emryc asked quite bluntly as he poked at the fire again.

He used the Force to bring over an empty sheet of paper and a sketching pencil. Emryc placed it on a hard surface and began to work on something new. He quietly chewed on the root while he drew, twirling it around between his lips. Emryc looked ahead at nothing while his left hand moved of its own accord, rapidly drawing lines and shading out of the other man’s immediate view.

Emryc would still engage in conversation as he drew, but it was 50/50 on whether he chose to answer a question or not. His hand always kept working, his gaze blankly fixed off at nothing. Root always spinning and twirling between his lips.

After a while, he blew on the paper to brush aside any residue. Emryc quietly floated the page over towards the other man. He didn’t bother to say anything about it, rising up to his feet to look through another cubby. He looked for a bottle of homemade moonshine.

The drawing the other man held would be a curious one. It had a perfectly drawn hand, a single wrist and a torso that led up to pronounced neck bones, a firm jawline, but not much above that. The curious thing about the drawing was that the man would recognize the hand, the single arm, the stump and torso as his own. Except it had none of the tattoos drawn in it. It had every single scar the man had as it was layered beneath those tattoos. The lightning scars were etched out in great detail and sprawled out in all their glory without being woven into anything else. It was a perfect depiction of the man’s torso without a single bit of ink on him with every bit of flaw he carried.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal almost made the mistake, again, of simply shrugging his shoulders sheepishly in response to the other man. After a second or so he remembered to actually say something.

"Could be both."

His tone was a mix of both thoughtful and joking. The talking may actually have more to do with curiosity and the fact he could feel a person's presence without also getting echoes of their emotions constantly, something he was far from used to. Droids didn't pick up at all, so that wasn't too bad, but this was just bizarre to someone like Hannibal.

While Emryc did what he was doing with the paper- drawing, obviously, even Hannibal could figure that out without help- he retrieved a tiny packet of marshmallows from inside his belt. A key component to any wilderness trek or adventure, of course! Casually he floated a couple to sit over the fire and steadily roasted them, filling the space with the sweet and savory smell of cooking sugar to join the crackling flame and scritch-scratch of pencil on paper.

When the page came floating over he moved one of the marshmallows away from the flame toward the boatman and the other toward himself to cool a moment. "Its hot," he warned absentmindedly, plucking the page from the air in his now-dried fingers and looking down at it.

Hannibal's eyes widened as he noticed the drawing was actually of himself. There were the scars, although it had been quite some time since he'd seen himself without the collection of tattoos. Even the extensive marks of lightning had been filled in for a while now. But on this page in his hands, only the marks left over. No ink, designs, fine lines, or vibrant colours.

Or anything those additions represented to the young Jedi. The resulting image was at once both flattering and disrespectful, although he doubted the mysterious boatman meant it that way. Not that he could tell for sure with how difficulty to read he was. At least he knew it was a specific method of some kind rather than some anomaly. He kept nearly forgetting he was even there, he was that used to picking up stray impressions.

"You have excellent attention to certain details," Hannibal said, the more casual dialect apparently forgotten as he observed the ways some of the scars were formed in pencil. "Others, you seem to miss."

It was also a strangely nostalgic feeling as well, bringing up a mix of other memories and emotions along with it that reminded him of other moments he lived and weights he carried. Hannibal sighed.

He glanced up at the other man. "May I keep this?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc had the bottle in hand and was walking back when he could make out something floating over his way and that it was ‘hot’. The man hadn’t bothered to explain what it was and the half Sephi didn’t recognize the smell. He assumed it was something messy - never having had roasted marshmallows before. As a result, the morsel lingered in the air and Emryc stepped right past it to walk over and sit back down by the fire.

He noticed the shift in the dialect, deciding it was far more pleasing to his ears as the man’s voice was otherwise comforting. Emryc didn’t respond to the notion of missing details. The half Sephi only bothered with details he favored, leaving out anything he didn’t care for. He wouldn’t explain his reasonings or correct the man as that wasn’t usually in Emryc’s nature. He preferred others to draw whatever conclusion they wished.

Emryc shrugged vaguely at his question, though the 'may I' in front of the question gave him pause. There was almost the hint of a smile threatening to tug at his lips, but it faded away by the time he spoke, “Keep it, throw it in the fire, makes no difference to me,” He took a swig from the container of moonshine before he handed it to the man. It was absolutely horrible tasting, but it had a warm and powerful afterburn. The impacts would become apparent almost immediately.

The half Sephi had made a similar moonshine for a party hosted by Preef Callo. That day now seemed as if it were centuries ago. Emryc sat there with a faraway look on his face for a moment before he returned to the present, looking towards the fire again.

The thunderstorm raged outside, the ground beneath them quivering from the powerful rumbling. Unsurprisingly, parts of the thatched roof began to leak, water dripping into the hut. Emryc could hear it but he didn’t act right away, reaching his hand out for the man to hand him his moonshine.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal blinked over at the other man. The marshmallow was still floating idly in the air, slowly and gently rotating in place like a particularly melted and tasty-smelling moon. Mr. Boatman had walked right on past it which made sense in hindsight considering he couldn't tell what it was other than 'hot', as Hannibal had said.

"Then I'll keep it, thank you."

But first, the drawing. Emeralds looked back down at it for a few seconds more of contemplation and consideration. Then there was a soft sound of moving paper as Hannibal carefully set aside the drawing away from the collection of wet things, deciding to look it over more later. Meaning in art was a complicated thing and, besides, it was something else to add to his collection of memorabilia back on his ship.

"There's a roasted marshmallow in front of you. Use a stick or something if you want it," he said, wiggling it a bit where it hovered placidly near the other man. A muscle twitch that almost became something kinda-sorta resembling a smile went across the boatman's face but was gone just as quickly. Hannibal quietly wondered if it was about the drawing but the man's words either didn't fit or he was being very humble.

Probably something else he just didn't notice.

He reached over to take the proffered bottle from the boatman, hit immediately by the strong smells of alcohol and other things. Hannibal shrugged and took a fairly conservative swig at first. His face twisted into a grimace as he swallowed. It had a strong burn that went through his body, a kind of alcoholic heat he could appreciate, but the taste was atrocious.

Hannibal dragged his tongue briefly over his teeth in discomfort and took another swig to match the boatman, throwing his head back. At which point he noticed the leaking roof. Wordlessly he handed the bottle back over but kept his eyes on the water, eyebrows furrowed. The droplets didn't bother him or his things overmuch but he did keep an eye on the various paper goods to make sure they didn't get dripped on and ruined.

He ate his marshmallow to fix the taste of whatever that drink was and watched the roof warily.

"Does it storm like this often here?"

[/cbox3]

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc paused for a moment to ponder on this ‘roasted marshmallow’. He had never had one before, but he had seen it in Holomovies and that was telling enough for him, “Don’t need it getting in my beard,” He said bluntly, deciding he would rather forego trying a marshmallow than end up with a sticky mess. There were few things Emryc despised more than sticky foods. He was mortified just thinking about the state of the man’s fingers right now.

When the moonshine was handed back, Emryc was very apprehensive about grabbing it, gingerly ensuring there was no marshmallow residue. He took another long swig, hearing the water beginning to steadily drip into the hut. He could hear the man shifting around, his outline in the Force suggesting that he kept turning towards the leak.

“Feel like being a good Jedi and fixing that for me?” He asked as he took another long swig. The crackling of the fire was soothing with the backdrop of the thunderstorm outside. Emryc pondered the question the man asked, thinking back to how much the little girl that loved kicking shins enjoyed the rain.

“Not often enough,” He said after a while as he took another swig, “Crops haven’t been doing great. Villagers will be celebrating after this,” Emryc could feel a buzz beginning to build, and he was more than relaxed from the warmth of the fire.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

The second marshmallow lazily floated back toward Hannibal and was popped into his mouth to chew on thoughtfully while he considered the roof. By this point he chose to take the boatman's words simply at face value as much as he could given the way he'd hidden himself behind the many layers. Helped he tended to speak plain truths or opinions, so far at least, and he did come off as a rather straightforward sort of person.

Luckily for the other man Hannibal chose to eat the marshmallows out of the air rather than with his fingers. He wasn't against sticky foods but it was easier to just skip the finger-cleaning step after all.

The roof was slightly less simple since it was actively raining. Hannibal leaned slightly to one side and then the other, small surreptitious movements of the Force diverting a stream of water here or there and observing the roof for several long seconds.

"Sure thing, Mr. Boatman." The young Jedi got to his feet, stretching limbs that had stiffened a little from the lack of motion, and gave the areas where water was leaking through a closer look. He clicked his tongue in an expression of mild annoyance before bending down to check his belt. It was in the middle if that process he got an answer to his other question.

Hannibal smiled a little.

"That'll be a sight to see then, I hope." Of course he hadn't gone yet to see the crops himself but now that the other man mentioned it he was going to have to. He pulled out a roll of suture threads from his medkit and began to unravel it and use a small utility knife to cut off lengthy sections, making liberal use of telekinesis to get things right with only one hand. Without another word he walked out into the rain.

A cursory check revealed that still no one was willing to go out in the storm. Probably for the best.

With the small piles of thread in his palm he raised a hand toward the roof to very gently adjust the positioning of the thatch layers on top. The threads came up and slipped between to tie things in place, at least a temporary fix. Hannibal's head dipped back in, looking at the leaking spots, then back out again to adjust and tie.

During one of these check-ins he asked, "Do you know what the main crop is here?" before working on a section by the entrance. He'd already determined the roof would probably need proper repairs before long but, hey, it was something to do and he was technically imposing on someone else by showing up randomly, so why not?

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc actually hadn’t expected the man to agree. He sat in silence as he heard the man rise up and walk over to fix the leak. The half Sephi processed this in silence, mulling over how he felt about someone else fixing anything in his space. He took another swig from the drink before the man asked his question.

He rose to stand, stretching slightly before walking over to assist with the roof. It wasn’t in his nature to sit around and let others make changes to his space while he sat back. Nevertheless, fixing things up had been oddly therapeutic in helping him focus on doing things with his hands and learning ways to apply them while blind.

Wordlessly he adjusted things inside as the man shifted things around from out in the rain. His fingertips brushed along the straw to pack them in firmly and layer beneath where the man had moved them from above. Emryc moved parallel to the man on the inside as he moved outside, adjusting in response to whatever he did.

“Mostly shorn, but there are other grains too,” He answered, tightening and fixing the straw. Thunder cracked loudly outside and the man would be completely soaked in the rain. Lightning illuminated the entire village, the outlines of the mountains in the distance visible. Emryc didn’t step out, but he certainly assisted here.

“What other Jedi services can I bum off you?” The half Sephi asked when the man popped in next, a hint of amusement bleeding into his tone.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal didn't seem to be all that bothered by all the rain over him, amiably occupied instead by the task at hand. The water was cool but he remained warm enough despite it, no chill sinking in nor shiver in his limbs. Things went much better with the two men working in tandem to repair the leaking roof, and while the young Jedi had much more experience with metal and machinery than simple thatch he also had good instincts when it came to things like this.

Doubtless the boatman working on the inside layers also helped a great deal with keeping things where they were meant to be.

"Shorn, huh?" he muttered, difficult to hear over thundering sky and pounding rain even through the doorway. Some sections were adjusted around to his liking and once more tied in place to the center sections. He popped in again to see the other man once more adjusting the underside of the same area, grinning a little at the sight. Hannibal couldn't help think how awkward this might be if he was much shorter than the boatman and couldn't even properly see the roof.

"Well, uh." Hannibal put actual thought into the boatman's question, even if the way it was asked remained something of a joke. "Depends on how the fields go, I s'pose. Any sick or injured folk around?" While he had yet to catch up to the skill or technique of the late Grandmaster he was still a fairly accomplished healer, not to mention the medical and relief supplies he tended to cart around on his ship.

Another few adjustments and an equal amount of checking in through the doorway would result in a roof that no longer leaked. For now, at least. The sutures were durable and all but the solution was temporary.

"So, fields you said." Hannibal looked around through the sheets of rain, frowning a little. "Any chance I could get a vague direction?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc pulled the inside of the roof tight to finally fix it. With the efforts of both men, he had a feeling he wouldn’t have this problem again. The half Sephi paused when the other man spoke, rattling off all of the things he could focus on. Emryc had to bite back from scoffing at the boy scout type behavior Jedi often displayed. It was both entertaining and grating at the same time.

The half Sephi stepped towards the doorway, orienting himself through the Force, “Straight that way is the village healer. Plenty of sick to help there and I think one woman may go into labor soon,” He looked through Force Sight again, focusing on the various shapes and scanning around. He vaguely pointed to his left, “The fields are out there. The ones there have been dead.”

Emryc poked at his roof near the doorway and decided it was quite sturdy. He paused for a moment, his features illuminating as lightning struck again and thunder caused the ground to rumble slightly. He was entirely unconcerned with the other man being completely soaked outside.

“Plenty of fun Jedi things to do. Have at it,” He said before he stepped back and closed the door. He gave the man directions on where to go and problems to solve. Emryc didn’t give it a second thought before he walked over to where he had preserved some fish, deciding it was time to cook some dinner before he went to bed.

@Mr. Teatime