(no subject)
Dec. 20th, 2015 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegunicent Sydney is working on his homework (Roosevelt's first term in reflection) when the Young avengers descend on the Tower. He idly note's their progress through the community kitchen and 'den' while highlighting a passage about the 'pit of proposed taxation' the famous president had set forth. He's AFK on the joint modded server he shares with Boro, Ash and a few of their selected friends. He's helping one of them stress test the server by keeping the most particle heavy chunk loaded.
Teddy and Billy are not so much hanging on each other as propping each other up, exhausted and stressed. They take up one of the love seats and promptly curl into each other the way of the emotionally bruised.
He is not what they want in a Padawan. He is not easily calmed, he does not accept their rhetorical answers; little pleasures are not reward enough nor extra chores punishment enough to stop him thinking. Questioning. Fighting.
He runs away from his lessons often. He hides from the creche minders and basks in sunlight filtered through smog and cloud bank. He ruins his tunics with dirt and green plant stains whenever he can find something growing strong enough.
They sheer off his hair, trim away his claws and lose pair after pair of shoes that he tosses out the tower windows.
He refuses to acknowledge the name they give him. He is more than a string of round vowels and hard consonants. His name is a reflection of himself, and he finds it in the harsh, soothing growls of Shri-Wook.
He is not what they want, but they are not what he *needs* either, and until the day a man smelling of death and sour sickness and Force comes through the creche. The Force sings around him, even as the air gets fouler and fouler. When neither the man nor the care takers seem in any mood to do something *about* the stench, he does the honors himself of giving the man a bath from the vase of Alderan lilies.
This is how he comes to know Knight Auron, who shows him the truth of what it means to be a Padawan and a Jedi. He is fearless and wild compared to his creche siblings. Reckless, impulsive, *animalistic*. He is more than they desire in their city-planet but he is still a Jedi.
He is Hope.
Her parents were sensible people, in a sensible town in a country known mostly for its goats, rope and weavers. Her sisters wove rugs from wool and made cheese from goat milk while her brothers herded the goats and hunted rabbits and foxes.
Teddy and Billy are not so much hanging on each other as propping each other up, exhausted and stressed. They take up one of the love seats and promptly curl into each other the way of the emotionally bruised.
He is not what they want in a Padawan. He is not easily calmed, he does not accept their rhetorical answers; little pleasures are not reward enough nor extra chores punishment enough to stop him thinking. Questioning. Fighting.
He runs away from his lessons often. He hides from the creche minders and basks in sunlight filtered through smog and cloud bank. He ruins his tunics with dirt and green plant stains whenever he can find something growing strong enough.
They sheer off his hair, trim away his claws and lose pair after pair of shoes that he tosses out the tower windows.
He refuses to acknowledge the name they give him. He is more than a string of round vowels and hard consonants. His name is a reflection of himself, and he finds it in the harsh, soothing growls of Shri-Wook.
He is not what they want, but they are not what he *needs* either, and until the day a man smelling of death and sour sickness and Force comes through the creche. The Force sings around him, even as the air gets fouler and fouler. When neither the man nor the care takers seem in any mood to do something *about* the stench, he does the honors himself of giving the man a bath from the vase of Alderan lilies.
This is how he comes to know Knight Auron, who shows him the truth of what it means to be a Padawan and a Jedi. He is fearless and wild compared to his creche siblings. Reckless, impulsive, *animalistic*. He is more than they desire in their city-planet but he is still a Jedi.
He is Hope.
Her parents were sensible people, in a sensible town in a country known mostly for its goats, rope and weavers. Her sisters wove rugs from wool and made cheese from goat milk while her brothers herded the goats and hunted rabbits and foxes.
