- Joined
- Dec 24, 2017
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Big galaxy. Big planet. Big city. Big disc.
This place, that is, this kind of mini-city.
Not really, it’s more like a city’s district.
It has the makings of one, can live in it.
Some did, some folks who were poor or rich.
It catered to all, it said, this place high in the sky.
Above the city lights of Coruscant, buildings so big.
Beyond the Palace District, whatever such, O so high.
Words. Words burned. Twi’lek kid can’t fathom it, how he can’t think of them.
How they enter his head, slip between skin and bone, given he does not know.
He isn’t the most intelligent of Twi’leks, wouldn’t call himself a man, no, not yet.
He isn’t the brightest of bulbs, even some in the Jedi Order said, but is not alone.
There in this place, he feels naked, though he has clothes upon his body, garments.
Sports a jacket, suede of grey, with orange patches, like his complexion, this Twi’lek.
Black jeans, a bit baggy, and white sneakers, dirtied by playing frisbee with children.
He had his wits about his noggin, not many, least he knew that purity rested within.
He wasn’t much, wasn’t anything really, sitting there on a settee, sofa, call it a couch.
It reminded him how so many things were similar in this galaxy, like on the viewscreen.
Above a bar, playing silent television, muted for the music, violins, and a man’s listening.
A young man, he is, the Twi’lek, watching a man and woman kiss, spreading arms around.
In that movie, and beneath, at the bar in the lounge beside the restaurant, where life is calm.
Conversations are quiet, most folk preferring it, if not taken to silence, checking out datapads.
An old woman with a cat in her lap, he looks at her and she looks back, he looks away, moves on.
A mother, a father, and he had those too, somewhere, but they feel farther than a dusty old man.
Ah what am I even saying, hey? He thinks, still a boy, rubbing a cheek, hearing his own silent voice.
Thoughts in his head, he can never quiet them, always thinking of this or that, forward and back.
He thinks of the past, rolling liquid in a glass, like melted time, but it’s just wine, and maybe why.
Might be why his thoughts are blurry. He isn’t drunk, not quite, but drank enough to feel…alive…
You know better than to drink liquor on an empty stomach...feller. Is wine even considered a liquor?
It mattered less than the dead mattered in the grave. Jedi don’t contemplate it. Corrects this kid.
A kid, that’s all he is, and stupid. Ignorant of his own power, joined the Order because prompted.
Funny, how life works, because if it wasn’t for that Sith, Kayden Skyler, he may not have found it.
Hoowee, Sith are an ugly disease, hey. He agrees with himself, lifting glass to lips, taking in white wine.
It tasted sublime, and maybe it was Moscato, or maybe it was Kookamando, given the varieties.
He didn’t know, just asked the bartender for white wine, and made himself old enough to drink.
His age, that’s another thing that meant a hill of peas, for Tacovean Delminar…he is…asleep.
“They could at least include closed captions,” comes a voice from beside him, on the same setti.
Further to his left, at the end, with a single cushion in between, and it is red as red, like the rest.
“Yeah! Kissing in the rain but now I don’t know what they say!” Twi’lek said, there to that Human.
A woman, black of mane, dark skin, with her uncanny presence. Can’t put finger on it. “Hiya, friend.”
He blurted, suddenly thirsted, taking another sip.
Truthfully, it was to cover up how he was an idiot.
Clearing his throat, goes for the intro. “I’m Taco.”
Extends right hand. She looks back. “I’m Kam.”