Ask Thus the Fiddler played his Tune

[Laeonas Tannaras]

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He’d remembered crawling onto the ship. Of pulling himself into the captain’s chair. Than, he was in hyperspace. The man, half conscious and dying, had somehow managed to fly to the nearest Jedi Temple– that being New Alderaan. It had been there that he’d been treated for most of his immediate wounds, but immediately after he was sent back on his way home– to Yavin. He’d heard about the attack that had occurred simultaneously– and that by some miracle, the Sith invasion fleet had been pushed back.

That had been two weeks ago. He was still spending most of his time in the medical bay, even if he did occasionally go to lessons and study. Injuries like his took months to fully recover from– at least, with how he was taking it. He’d been pushing off a far quicker fix to his injuries for awhile by this point. It was a conversation he’d looped through a few times by now with the head healer– Asadra Seh, who’d he’d been acquainted with for years by this point.

“I don’t feel comfortable with it.” He declared the same statement he’d been using to describe his position for days. “With respect, Padawan, but the only other alternative is… well, primitive. Months of physical therapy, several surgeries, skin grafts, nerve reconstruction, muscle regrowth– it’s all… well, it’s quite unnecessary with the technology we have on hand.” She explained, an understanding, yet firm expression on her green face.

“And so what, I should replace flesh with machines? You’re a healer– heal me, don’t start putting machines in my body to do it’s work. What are you, a doctor, or a mechanic?” He snapped, face flushing red with frustration, before it immediately shifted back to his usual pale complexion as he turned away. “...that was uncalled for.” He muttered out, pursing his lips. Asadra wore a distinct frown, but by now she was used to Laeonas’ fiery personality. He’d come far from being the mad, ranting lunatic that he’d been when he’d first been brought to Yavin.

“I understand your apprehension, Laeonas.” She’d reply, addressing him by name this time around. “But we’re not replacing anything with machine. There’s a hole in your wrist, and a massive chunk of both your right Vastus lateris and gastrocnemius lateral head muscles are gone. It will take years for you to fully recover the use of your leg if we don’t install cybernetic replacements, and your left hand may be permanently crippled.” She further explained, letting the statement sink in.

Laeonas sat for a moment, mouth opening to reply, yet he couldn’t find the words. All she said was true, and yet he still felt like he was right. As he sat back in thought, the Twi’lek stood up, adding, “This is ultimately your decision, but I ask that you don’t sabotage yourself.” Before walking off to deal with several other patients, leaving the man to ponder his decision.

His thoughts were interrupted by the rumbling of his stomach– a perfect distraction. Sitting up, he reached out with the force, crutch flying into his right hand as he stood himself up. His left hand was still in it’s brace as Laeonas reached the door, which he’d yet again use the force to open. Thus, the Padawan turned cripple made his way to the mess hall.

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@LilyNion

 

[Clove Vanhoop]

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It had been a few weeks since the various attacks. In the battle to defend the worlds against the Sith, many Jedi and warriors alike were severely injured. The medical bay was bustling with activity, with beds and bacta tanks being filled on a regular basis. One of those patients was Clove. However, after a week in the medical bay, Clove was released and given a plain wheelchair, as well as the promise of further revalidation to try to restore movement to her legs.

She wasn't stupid; a severed spine means there will be no movement unless the spine can be repaired.

And she had a plan just on how to do that.

But she was too weak for that plan, for the time being, so Clove accepted the wheelchair and the revalidation and did her best to pick up her life as well she could. She had too many things to do and needed, no, had to move forward. It took a few days to get used to the wheelchair, but once it clicked, boy did it click. The girl was whizzing around at top speed, blissfully unaware to the many stares directed her way.

Like any other regular day, Clove raced towards the mess hall, eager to see what was for lunch. And, like any other day, she chose to dress up in her pretty shoes and big floofy skirts; she wasn't going to walk in them anyway. Might as well enjoy playing dress-up!

Clove arrived just in time to see someone using the Force to open the door. And the person in question appeared to be in the same state as she was, if not worse. She managed to catch the door with her wheel just as it was about to close, and she began to push it open with both hands. Doors were still tricky. However, the girl was able to fully open the door and quickly wheel herself into the mess hall.

The girl's large eyes scanned the mess hall, trying to figure out where she should sit today. Her gaze was drawn to a small area near the window, which was bathed in warm sunlight and overlooked the forest. That'd do just fine! But first, lunch.

She rolled her way up to the counter, past the man who had opened the door early. Then it hit her: it was the man with raven black hair she'd seen on the training fields once or twice. Huh. She waved to him with a smile as she went past him before reaching up high to grab one of the plates from the counter. It took a lot of pushing and shoving with her fingertips to get the plate to the counter's edge, but she finally got it in her hands. She carefully placed the plate on her lap and admired the food; croissants. Croissants galore, together with scrambled eggs and bacon. The chef was spoiling them today!

Happily, Clove wheeled her way towards the table near the window she saw not a minute ago. A bit clumsy she finally managed to park the wheelchair against the table, and moved the plate on top of the table.

---

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tag @Tom ​

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

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Hobbling over to the counter, a plate floated from the stack on the side and remained hovering in place. Laeonas' eyes scanned over the food, and they'd widen as he realized the meal being prepared. It was 11:15, just fifteen minutes before breakfast ended and lunch began. Luck was obviously on his side today, as he wasn't being presented with just any breakfast, but his favorite breakfast dish. His mood was on the uptick as he presented his plate, eggs and bacee placed neatly-- as well as a bread he'd never tried before.

As he turned to leave however, a figure rolled in, blocking his path quite suddenly. She would've been easy to miss had he not already been looking down at his plate. Yet as he looked down at the girl with the knife ears, it took him a moment before he actually recognized who was sitting before him. But at the end of the day, he’d only ever met one knife eared 12 year old blonde at the temple— and to say he was surprised at her condition would be the understatement of the century. He looked down in surprise, aquamarines showing his confusion as she smiled and waved at him like nothing was wrong.

As he left with his plate, the man began to make his way across the cafeteria. The plate hovered alongside him, idly floating as he hobbled across the room. He spotted an empty table by a window— a quaint spot, with nobody to bother him. It was in the middle of hobbling over that the girl arrived, and it was by the time he got over that she’d finally stopped fiddling with her wheelchair and managed to sit in place.

Regardless, Laeonas would sit down, setting his crutch on another chair sitting right next to him. He’d grab the fork left on his plate, and silently begin eating. He didn’t even address the other padawan at first, taking a few bites out of his food. It was good— very good, in fact. It didn’t compare to the omelet’s he and Eph made together, but it was up there. Gulping down a bite, he’d get a taste of the bacon, and take a look, deep breathe of satisfaction.

The man would use both his right hand and the force to help him with eating, picking up eggs with his fork, and summoning bacon to float up to his mouth. He continued eating in silence, occasionally glancing across the table to see what the tiny Padawan was doing. The sun was beating down on both of them, but there was a slight angle that would bathe her in rays, while a very long shadow was cast on the older human. After finally taking a bite from his croissant, he decided he'd take a drink-- but find no glass beside him.

It dawned on the man that he hadn't actually gotten anything to drink. He'd sit up, summoning his crutch back to his hand, intent on heading back to grab a small carton of OJ. Come to think of it, he was rather thirsty, so he'd probably grab two or three. Returning to the table with the various cartons, floating down to sit beside his plate, he'd struggle to open one with a single hand for a moment. He'd glance across the table once, but he'd quickly look away, mortified over his inability to perform such a basic task.

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@LilyNion

 

[Clove Vanhoop]

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The golden sun brushing against her pale skin, illuminating her freckles and giving her skin a violet hue, while she ate one of her favorite lunches, had to be the highlight of the day. All of her stress from rehabilitation and physiotherapy, as well as the numerous studies and preparations for trials and struggles, washed away. Her face was filled with nothing but happiness and peace. If it hadn't been for the slight twitch in her ear, indicating that she was very much aware of Laeonas' closeness.

She hadn't intended to take his table. Sure, it was her favorite spot in the entire mess hall, but she wasn't pitiful. He could have the table to himself in a heartbeat if he wanted it, but he seemed content to just sit and eat in silence. He must've wanted peace as well, or at least that's what she assumed. So she tried to pay him no attention, since he clearly paid her none in return.

Plus, whenever they exchanged glances, he always looked at her as if she was a nine year old and sort of dismissed her.

Even so, no matter how hard Clove tried to give him the peace she assumed he desired, she couldn't ignore the sounds of him attempting to open a carton of orange juice. While she might not have been as lucky in the apartment of legs, she did have two functioning arms and hands. So, slowly, she turned her gaze to the man with raven black hair, her face devoid of pity or judgment. No, it was the same contented, relaxed expression as before.

"Hey, Laeonas. It's Laeonas, right? Would you like me to help you with the carton?" She couldn't think of a nice way to hide the fact that she'd seen him struggle, so she decided to rip off the bandage all at once and hope he'd accept her help. If not, well. He wouldn't be the first Jedi she had to convince into accepting her help.

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tag @Tom ​

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

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"...goddamnit... cardboard piece of shite..." he'd mutter, low enough to where most would fail to hear. Ofcourse, most people didn't have incredibly keen senses of hearing, so the girl across from him would hear every minor curse and insult-- directed at a cardboard carton. The expression on his face was slowly becoming more and more agitated, brow furrowing as he went along. His fingers would try to grasp around the top, while also splayed out around the edge to try and open it.

Than, he heard her, piping up and asking if she'd pronounced his name right-- and offering to help him with the carton. Aquamarines snapped up, and he quickly snapped out a "No." Before turning his gaze away. His response hung for a moment, and the man would let out a sigh. "...but I appreciate the offer." he'd mutter out, a conciliatory line to try and undo the rudeness he'd just added. "Doing this with one hand is... annoying." He'd add, clarifying that there was a reason behind his attitude, rather than let the impression hang that that was just how he always acted.

The man would focus again, trying to work with his fingers. Finally, having exhausted all other options, Laeonas would grip the carton with the force, and summon a knife to his hand as well. In a single motion, he brought it down, puncturing through the top of the carton and leaving a wide gash. Finally, he'd grab the carton and take a swig, leaning over the table so as to make sure the juice didn't spill onto his clothes. He'd glance back across the table, expecting some shocked or alarmed or judgemental look.

He... hadn't really been paying attention to her, all things considered. She'd sat across the table from him, eating, and yet he'd been entirely absorbed in his own meal, his own struggle with the carton. Only now did he actually... well, pay attention to her, and notice that she also lacked a carton of juice. Glancing down at the second carton, he recognized that he wouldn't want to waste time trying to open a second one. So, he'd slide it across the table to the girl. "You can drink that if you want. I'm not gonna bother."

He didn't make any other attempts at conversation for a few more minutes, instead munching on the eggs and bacon and sipping at his drink like it was nobody's business-- because it wasn't. When finished, he summoned his crutch back to his hand, ready to leave-- but he stopped himself from standing up as he glanced back over at the wheelchair bound girl. He'd blink a few times, her relaxed and pleasant demeanor contrasted against his own. He'd take another moment to regard his fellow handicapped Padawan, before finally opening his mouth.

"You got it right on the first try." He'd say, relaxing a bit where he sat. "My name, I mean. A lot of people say it like Lay-on-ass, when it's supposed to be pronounced Lay-ohn-ahs." The man went on, smirking a little bit. "Even when I sounded like a street rat I got my name right, but when I left home nobody else could." He'd remark, regarding the many times people mispronounced his name, and the many times that followed where he'd very loudly correct them, often with a number of threats and expletives.

"You're... shite... Clove? Clove, right?" He'd ask, hoping he hadn't guessed wrong, but continuing on as if he had gotten it right regardless. "Could've sworn I saw you at that life day party a few months back." He declared, remembering before he'd frown. She'd been on two legs back than-- as had he.

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@LilyNion

 

[Clove Vanhoop]

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Clove's eyes squinted slightly as she heard the quick and snappy 'No.' And, to be honest, she would have left the table right then and there if he hadn't responded with a kinder follow-up. What is it with boys with raven black hair being such pricks? But, at the very least, Laeonas had the courtesy to explain his attitude, causing her face to soften again. "Yeh, I can imagine."

While she was surprised by the fact he gave up and used the Force to slice the carton with it, there was no judgemental look in the half-Annfyn's eyes. Nor, for that matter, shock. Although she couldn't help but wonder why he was making his life so difficult instead of simply accepting help. But in the end, it was none of her concern, so she focused back on her croissant.

Clove, happily, took a bite out of it, her upper body swinging in the sunlight ever so slightly. Yummy lunch, her favorite spot in the sun. Yes! She was having a good time. That joyful swinging came to a halt when she heard the carton being shoved over the table, followed by the man explaining she could have his. Sorta gross, considering he had already drank from it. But the gesture was sweet, so she smiled warmly at him. "Are you sure? Thank you, that is very kind of you."

She ignored the minutes of silence, continued to eat her lunch and took the tiniest sip from the carton out of politeness. To be honest, she expected him to stand up and leave as soon as he was finished; he clearly wasn't in a social mood. But, to her surprise, the man relaxed and looked at her instead of standing up.

And, dare she say it, he was attempting to strike up a conversation.

"Lay-on-ass" Clove repeated, before snorting. "That must be extremely annoying. I wonder why so many people mess up your name..."

After a brief moment of thought, her chocolate brown eyes were drawn to the man's aquamarines. "Oh, yeh, Clove is correct! Life day... Life day... Oh, weren't you talking to that half-Sephi Jedi for a while? Did you ever get him to say anything? He's always been very quiet." Clove tilted her head to the right. "Didn't we also meet during that hand-to-hand training session?" She remembered the man kneeling with the rest of the group, which she had refused to do at the time. "Man, that was a weird session! Very useful though."

"You looked a lot healthier back then, though I did as well," Clove said, perhaps a little too casually, "Is everything healing nice and properly?" She took the last bite of her croissant with her eyebrows raised, her ears twitching ever so slightly.

---

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tag @Tom ​

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

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The quick response to his follow up prompted a simple nod from the human. Usually he'd ignore those little gestures, but Laeonas had a feeling that she was being genuine. As the man ate, and he handed her his unopened carton, he momentarily stopped as he watched her swaying in her chair. She looked like a beacon of radiate happiness, the image something out of a religious nursery rhyme he'd heard from wherever-- "Worry not, worry not, dear child of sol, but dance in the light of your lord."

Regardless, he slid the carton across, giving her another quick nod acknowledging her thanks. When Clove snorted at how his name was mispronounced, the man couldn't help but smirk a little. "Oh, it definitely is." He answered, recalling the many, many times he'd had to correct people over it. The man's name held special significance to him, so he couldn't bring himself to just let mispronunciations hang like that. "Think it's got something to do with how we talk differently from the rest of the galaxy." He'd add, referencing the second half of her statement.

It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't actually explained the we. Quickly, he'd say, "By we I mean, uh, Brentaal-- Brentaalans. People from Brentaal." The man stumbled over his words, muttering a quick "feck" before adding, "For some reason my people still sound like they're living before the hyperdrive got invented." With a cheeky grin.

As he brought up her name and their previous meetings, the other Padawan would excitedly respond. She brought up that... exceedingly tall master that he'd met, and the man would just blink a few times. "I... don't ever actually remember hearing him talk to me." He declared, "He might've, but from what you're describing, probably not." He couldn't even remember if he'd gotten the man's name. "I did talk to an old friend, and I met this Echani kid, about your age. Seemed alright." He went on, thinking back to the whole exchange. "I also got this... really terrifying effigy for a gift. There was a nice note attached though."

Bringing up the hand to hand lessons caused Laeonas to squint, scratching his head, before aquamarines lit up in recognition. "Shite, th'at was you!" He exclaimed, modulation cracking as he looked at her with wide eyes. The man would quickly recognize what he'd just done and quickly grow embarassed, muttering a, "Got carried away." As he sat for a moment. "...but yeah, I did see you at a lesson. I remembering running down the halls to get there... and I was still super late." He'd mutter. "Do you remember that... really tall mirialan chick? Haven't seen her around in awhile."

He didn't know how, but he'd actually fallen into a conversation with the tiny, wheelchair bound girl with the pointy ears. That he'd given her the time of day was already unusual enough for him, yet he was actually talking to the girl-- and enjoying her company, no less. It was utterly bizarre, but he wouldn't let that ruin the flow so far. That was about when the girl brought up his... condition. The man's expression immediately soured at the mention, the amiable expression fading as his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His lips were pursed tightly when she asked how he was healing.

"...fine." He managed to force out, before glancing back down at his now finished meal. She might not have intended to sound rude; as a rule of thumb, the Jedi tended to be exceedingly polite and respectful. But even after spending a few years of his life in their company, it still felt alien to the man. He was used to signs of concern being the opener to a joke, to which his answer would result in a punchline at his expense. Were it coming from a friend, he'd be able to laugh the obvious joke off-- yet in every other scenario, such "jokes" were just thinly veiled insults.

Regardless of whether or not Clove was just trying to show concern for his well being, his desire to continue the conversation was effectively snubbed. "I should probably go. Lunch seems to be winding down." He declared, abruptly standing up

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@LilyNion