[Kallile]

Amala blushed deeply, and instinctively reached for a glass. The one her hand found was the empty spiked lemonade glass and it took everything in her power to leave it’s base on the table. Compliments were something she found hard to deal with, no matter how much truth they may hold. She swirled the last tiny bit around in the glass, trying to look idle and embarrassed. The latter was not hard to achieve. “Oh…well…thank you Jaing.” She said more softly, obviously back in unfamiliar territory.

The next moment brought her out of the slight damper, and she laughed. “No, no!” She said in a raised voice akin to that of a child who had just learned a shocking secret. “Not a caution cone…exactly.” She laughed, finding herself stuck in a web of things she had already said. “Alright, so maybe it might look a little like a Caution Cone." She let herself slide forward on the bar stool, showing more intent interest in her conversation than she had originally.

With his next question her laughter did not stop. “I’m afraid you hit the bullseye on that one. You can always pretend it’s mine if your buddies look this way.” Ah, his buddies. He had kept her talking enough that she had nearly forgotten about the others. Her eyes drifted to them just long enough for her to miss the few flashes of lightning that preceeded the massive rumble of thunder.

The floors shock with the shock of the sound wave and Amala jumped clean off her barstool, knocking over her bag and spilling the contents of makeup and extra clothing onto the floor. She laughed nervously, looking to first the bartender who was placing her own green elixir on the counter and then to Jaing. “Guess we’re not to the heart of the storm yet…” she mused nervously, trying to hastily slide all her belongings back into the bag.

“Where were we? Flavors, I think?”  she said, trying to keep the conversation from steering towards the rather flamboyant and flirty assortment of things that were currently on the floor. “Anything sweet for me, really. You should try some watermelon flavoring sometime—add a little salt to it. It’s wonderful.”

[8]

[MillietheWarrior]

Now Jaing had the feeling he wasn't the only awkward one involved in this conversation. Amala seemed to have trouble dealing with compliments. He raised one eyebrow discreetly, but made no comment. “Just telling the truth,” he said, raising one shoulder in his impression of his father, Kal’s, ‘I’m just a simple mercenary, don’t mind me’ look. He stared at his drink for a moment, and the decided he’d had enough of it. he called the bartender back over. “Apple juice, please,” he said, quirking a rather odd smile. Truth be told, Clones really had no tolerance or like for alcohol. especially Jaing and his Null brothers.  Alcohol dulled the sense and could be dangerous before, during, or even after a mission. It was highly advised by Ordo that they all avoid it if possible. The bartender set a glass down in front of Jaing, who merely dipped his head and offered the man a ‘Go away, or I’ll make you go away,’ look.

He turned back to Amala, just in time to catch her comment about 'his buddies,' and see her belongings scatter on the floor after a particularly bad shock of lightning. Jaing didn’t seem very phased by it. He slid off his stool and bent down on one knee -- easier said than done in armor like this-- to help her gather her things. “They’re not exactly my...Buddies. They’re vode...Brothers. we’re all one big happy family, I guess you could say. But to me, most of them are like that long lost cousin you’ve never met before in your life, but you know their face.” He pointed at his own face. “Because we all have the same one.” He picked up a small assortment of makeup and handed it back to her, wondering why she was so nervous. Discreetly, he glanced at her bag, judging the contents and looking for listening devices, comlinks, wires, or blasters. Seeing none, he reached down and handed back a small scrap of cloth.

He pressed a small button on his forearm, which unobtrusively and imperceptibly scanned the bag from where he stood, checking for wire taps or electronic devices. Again, his search came up empty, so he shut off the scanner. He had no idea what all the stuff in her bag was, or why she was carrying it around. Women baffled him, to say the least. He straightened up, holding out a hand for Amala to help her back up. “What’s all that stuff your carrying around?” he asked curiously, a small, wondering frown on his face. “An extra change of clothes?” He seemed to nod approvingly. “Pretty smart. If you got caught in the rain, you’d have to wear your uncomfortably wet clothes home.” He shrugged, figuring that whatever was in the bag was just a precaution against the rain, and nothing more. His hand was still held out for Amala to take.

[9]

[Kallile]

The talk of them being brothers was rather lost on her as she tried to gather back all her things. She did, however, glance up to the man beside her as he pointed to his own face. It was strange…feeling she should be both in awe and alarmed at the same time. She decided then and there that she was going to keep beside Jaing the rest of the night. She could too easily loose him and end up talking to someone of his brothers that may not be as kind. That, she determined, would not help this evening. Her mind flashed instantly to the appletini on the counter and she found herself wanting it desperately. She was stuck in a room of clones—all that was hitting her just now. Clones here for surveillance or who knows what. She clutched a plastic container shaped like an eye with glistening blue powder inside and shoved it back into her bag.

Amala cringed when he handed back the cloth. It was thin, silken, and rather lacey. Biting her bottom lip she accepted it and tucked it back into her bag.  Maybe she should brave the rain and leave, find somewhere else. She hadn’t had enough to drink for this. She did, however, spy one thing that had managed to stay in her bag. Her pills—nerve pills, to be exact.

Taking his hand she helped herself back up, dusting off the base of her dress as best she could. At his first question, she blushed. “Well…it’s all stuff to make me feel…more attractive.” She remarked solely to the thought of the assorted makeup things he had seen spill out. “Work attire doesn’t exactly leave me feeling pretty. It’s…a woman thing. We, well…I, at least, like to feel dressed up to feel attractive.” Her blush deepened to a level of deep crimson, and she only nodded thankfully to him at the other comment. “I try to be smart ever now and then.” She joked, and lied, nervously. If only he saw the “smart” choice when it was on…he would not think so highly of her, she was fairly sure of that.

She picked up the shaped glass and drank down a mouthful of the green liquid. She’d think of a reason to make a temporary escape in a minute, her mind pondering the nerve pills in her bag. Right now the drink was all that was going to keep her glued together.  

[9]

[MillietheWarrior]

Jaing studied Amala's face closely. In a sea full of brothers who looked identical, one learned to distinguish individual facial expression for what they meant. If he'd wanted to, he probably could've read her every emotion. But he felt as if that might be going a step too far, and invading her personal space a little too much. The silky cloth obviously wasn't something she appreciated or wanted to bring up, but now Jaing was curious as to what it was. Obviously, Amala didn't think it was worth discussing in much detail. He tilted his head slightly, and sat back down on his stool, scooting his helmet over to the side a little. He took a drink of his juice, and thanked the Manda that he'd thought to order it; much better than any of that alcohol stuff, and it didn't dull the senses.

Jaing had a feeling he'd need to be on his toes around this woman. Not because he felt she was a threat to him; but more so, he almost felt as if she was a threat to...Herself. He couldn't quite figure out why, but the unsteadiness in her hands, the shake in her voice, the way she kept gulping down her drink and glancing at her bag...Jaing had to wonder what she had to hide, and why it was affecting her so badly. "Huh," he said at last. "I don't understand it, so it must be a woman thing," he said, smiling lightly. "I don't think you need it though, ad'ika. Your beautiful without it. Besides, it's all superficial. A woman shouldn't be appreciated for aesthetic reasons; you should be appreciated for your brains, your courage, your  bravery, and you as a person. Don't think you have to dress up to impress me or anyone else here. Your perfect the way you are."

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he said things like that everyday. He probably  did. He at least said similar things to his troops; 'You should be appreciated for your skills, your brains, your abilities. Don't think you have to show off to impress me or anyone else. Just do your best. That is all anyone can ask of you.' Jaing reached out an tentatively laid a hand on Amala's shoulder, trying to convey some sort of reassurance. He didn't know why, or what compelled him to do it, but she seemed in need of...Something. "You don't have to be anyone other than who you are to impress anyone, Amala. Everyone is special and unique in their own way; fancy clothes and makeup don't make you beautiful." He shrugged. "As cliché as it sounds, it's what's inside that counts. It's your heart that makes you beautiful. And don't forget it."

He smiled reassuringly, his eyes crinkling and glowing. "Just relax, ad'ika. Your among friends here. And even if you weren't...I'm here. So don't worry." He winked. "I'll make sure nothin' happens to you." As joking and humor-filled a she tried to make it sound, he was completely serious.

[10]

((Ah, ha! Finally! XD Sorry for Jaing's cheesiness He's not normally like this, I swear. -Pushes him aside- Jaing: Your one crazy, woman...))

[Kallile]

((I warn you…this is going to be a bit of a super post. ^^; Didn’t want to keep you waiting with nothing for Jaing to be doing while Amala does her thing, so I figured I’m squish it all into one post. ))

Amala was not thinking about such things. She wasn’t thinking about the fact that she could be picked apart by the expression on her face, she wasn’t (for once) thinking about the brother’s of Jaing’s surrounding them, she wasn’t even really thinking about the clothing that had spilled and been replaced. Her mind was now focused on the drink by her hand and the pills in her bag.

She snapped back to reality when Jaing began talking again—away from the thoughts of what was going to occur in a mere matter of minutes. She smiled back, sadly, and swirled around the green liquor in her glass. “It’s not here that worries me.” She said under her breath. Then, more confidently, “I wish everyone thought like you, Jaing. But out there in the work world, the daylight world…looks matter a lot. Why I hate Fridays.”

She gave a tug to the hip of the dress she was currently in. “This feels…fake and confining. It’s not me—it’s just my job and what they want me to be.” Again the sad smile; but this time she looked Jaing in the eyes. “Ordinary people have to look extraordinary everyday just to fit in.”

She picked up the glass she had been swirling and gulped the last mouthful down. She replaced the glass slowly to the counter. This was the first time she had felt guilt about this. This was the first time that for some reason the little voice that always told her it was a bad habit got just a little bit louder. Apparently, Amala wasn’t listening. “Excuse me, for a minute. I’m going to slip into the ladies’ room.”

She slid off her bar stool, bag in hand, and as she passed him ran her fingertips over Jaing’s armor almost apologetically. He might protect her from things he could see...but could he realy protect her from things he could not? She looked over her shoulder at him as she walked away—and for a moment she felt like she should go sit back down and just talk. Her eyes showed this, and the look became almost pleading as her body kept moving until it disappeared behind the door to the ladies room.

~*~

The first thing Amala encountered were the mirrors—all the eyes the slanted plates sent shooting back at her were staring back at her accusingly.

‘You’re too blind to even see a good guy when you have one.’
‘Can’t even hold your own for two hours….pathetic!’
‘You left him alone to rally his troops—they’re military guys, you know how lonely they must get.’

Amala tore her eyes away from the slanted mirrors, panting now. With a quivering hand she dove into her bag and brought up the little pill container. It rattled delightfully in her shaking fingers and she smiled. If only Jaing could protect her from everything like these could. These made life easy. These made life tolerable. Her eyes seemed lost—swimming in her own thoughts as she dumped a small portion of the nerve pills into her palm and swallowed them dry.

Gripping at the sink, she turned on the water and watched it run for a minute. Slowly her eyes slipped to a less intense state and seemed almost sedated. An easy, goofy smile crept over her face and the accusing glances were no longer in the mirror when she looked up at herself again. Only smiling…easy…pleasant faces.

“He’ll like this better.” She said, trying to convince herself of that as the drugs slowly too effect and mixed with the alcohol already in her system. “He’ll be so happy that I’ve calmed down.”

Almost playfully she flicked pockets of her bag open, producing assorted bits of eye shadow and glitter. “He’ll like me better this way. They all will.”

~*~

It had only been about ten…maybe fifteen minutes before the door slid open and a very different Amala stepped out. She seemed overflowing with self-confidence as she scanned the room to insure Jaing was in the same place. Her bag slung over her shoulder, fabric from the old dress still peeked through over the top. Her hair was done up just a little messier, and her eyes caught the light and seemed to shine like miniature suns. Smiling broadly, she took a moment to be admired.

They’ll all like me better this way…

((You’ll want to refer to the “night” attire on my first post or Okko’s artwork of her, which I can provide you with. ))

[10]

[MillietheWarrior]

Jaing opened his mouth to say something about Amala not needing to change into anything else. He really thought she looked fine just the way she was. But she was already gone by the time he figured out a plausible reason for her to stay with him, and he was left with the image of her pleading eyes and sad smile.  It bothered him, he realized as he turned his cup around in his hands. His armor felt like it burned where she had touched him, and he found that it wasn’t a wholly unpleasant feeling. He hardly knew Amala, yet he felt like they'd been talking to one another for ages, and that he‘d known her all his life. He didn’t know much about her, but he found that he could take a pretty good guess. He glanced up at the bathroom door, silently willing her to come out looking exactly the same, with a happier smile and brighter eyes. But judging from her expression when she left, Jaing knew it was a fool’s hope.

The minutes ticked by, and Jaing sat at the bar staring into his drink, watching as the amber colored liquid sloshed about the glass when he moved it. Jaing was surprised to find that he couldn’t stop thinking about Amala. She’d been gone for nearly ten minutes, and he couldn’t get her voice or her face out of his mind. It disturbed him to be so solely focused on one person, but at the same time it felt ri-...Jaing’s thoughts were interrupted as Amala stepped out of the bathroom. He kept his face calm and neutral, but inside, he was worried. She didn’t look the same; in fact, she looked completely different. And it wasn’t just her clothes that had changed. There was an odd look in her eyes, one that worried Jaing to no end. Jaing fought the urge to stand up and talk some sense into her.

What had she done while she was in the bathroom? Jaing had seen similar looks on people who had a problem with stims; they’d leave looking shattered, shaky and torn apart, but return with an almost blissful  and confident expression on their face. It was no secret that they’d use some kind of stimulant or drug, but that wasn‘t his business. Jaing found himself worrying that Amala was doing the same; but this time, he wanted to make it his business. Yet, he couldn’t figure out why. He shouldn’t be so caught up in Amala’s personal life, and what she did to herself or took or drank, whether destructive or otherwise, was none of his business. But he was worried, and he couldn’t help it. He watched silently as Amala sashayed towards him, a completely different woman save for, perhaps, inside her mind. Jaing wondered if the outwardly confident exterior was a cover for the true self she hid on the inside.

As she drew closer, Jaing stood up off of his bar stool, unable to keep the worry from flickering briefly across his face. He couldn't deny she was more beautiful still than she had been, but he didn't care about that right now. He was worried about the Amala he'd just spoken to, the one who was currently hidden away deep inside her. “Amala,” he breathed, his heart racing. “I told you, you didn’t need any of that stuff to look beautiful...Your were beautiful the way you were...” As she drew closer, he reached out as if to put take her hand, but seemed to think better of it. He’d seen how she reacted to physical contact. “Amala...” Jaing was at a loss as to what to say, so he simply pulled out her bar stool for her, motioning for her to sit down. “Amala, do you need to tell me something?” he said suddenly, sitting down on his chair as well. “Maybe about what just happened....And I'd like a real answer. Don't just make something up and think I'll buy it...I'm a lot smarter than you think.” He raised one eyebrow, his voice brooking no arguments. He’d get a straight answer, and he’d get it now.

[11]

[Kallile]

Amala stayed silent, watching Jaing as he tried to hold his ground and continue looking strong. She moved with a different air about her, but her eyes were what gave her away. They were slowly becoming more lucid, seeming to move around the room helplessly while her body tried to control the reaction between two opposing chemicals. She had been down this path so many times before…and yet this time wasn’t starting out the way it usually did.

This time she had worried eyes on her instead of approving eyes—that much she could tell even as her vision faltered every few minutes. And to an extend, he sounded made. The two chemicals in her system slowly began taking a different turn towards a trip Amala was not ready to take.

“What do you mean?” She asked innocently, moving to run her hand under his chin. “I just got more comfortable…isn’t that what you wanted?”

But she knew that wasn’t the answer she needed to tell him. That wasn’t the answer she needed to have ever told anyone. All this time this drug had made her so numb to feelings about or from others; she had never had to deal with and now she was consumed by them. This time…she wanted them to stay. Her eyes slipped out of focus again and she caught her breath in her throat from fear. She couldn’t stop it now, even if she wanted to.

When her eyes slide back in to focus on Jaing there was a pleading look swimming along with her gaze. It was hazed over, floating helplessly in her almost lifeless eyes…but it was there. And it was begging him for something.

“I don’t know…” She started, tears now welling in heavy mascara coating her eyes. “I do what I’ve always done. I do what I’ve always needed to.”

She fingers, seemingly out of nowhere, produced the pill bottle again, jingling the few remaining pills inside playfully with tears still in her eyes. It was hard to tell how many had been in the bottle to begin with and how many were now missing. The pleading look was fading in and out of her gaze as Amala and the chemicals battled internally. “They’re my real friends. They’ve always understood. They help me.” She giggled, tapping the bar for another drink instinctively. Her face was impossible to read now—was it the drugs she had just shown him, or was it Amala? The only fleeting glimpses of the women he had met came in flashes in those empty, beautiful, pleading eyes that had that flash of life to them. “But this time…they’re being mean.”

[11]

[MillietheWarrior]

Jaing resisted the urge to reach out and try and steady her. She looked like she was wobbling all over the place. Her body was clearly waging a war against itself, trying to take in the effects of too many things as one time. When she touched his face, he felt the skin beneath her fingers light up, and burn pleasantly. But it wasn't right...This wasn't right. What she was doing to herself wasn't right. He heard her suck in a breath, heard the note of fear in that single action, and his heart skipped a fearful beat. A few heads turned towards them, but Jaing fixed each pair of eyes with a stare of his own that clearly said they should mind their own business. When Jaing turned back around to Amala, he saw the pleading note in her eyes and he sucked in a breath of his own as he reached forward to clasp her hand unabashedly this time. He didn't care if she flinched or pulled away; she needed something right now, and pills and alcohol wasn't it.

She needed a pillar, she needed someone to be there for her, and reassure her. Jaing wasn't sure if he could be that person; he didn't think he'd been very good at being reassuring so far. Did Amala really need pills and alcohol, instead of him? Were his words and actions not enough to make her believe she was welcome and accepted around him? Apparently not. That thought led to a twisted, horrible feeling deep down in his gut, but Jaing desperately tried to ignore it. "Amala..." His voice was just as pleading as her eyes had been. "You don't need to do that anymore...Trust me. Be yourself, Amala. You don't need to put on a charade for anyone, especially me. Please..." He didn't know what to say to her; what did anyone say in a situation like this? Stop, your hurting yourself? This isn't good for you? Your going to kill yourself? But would Amala actually listen to him? Jaing had the feeling she would, if only that distant part of her.

He tugged slightly on her hand, and tried to lead her over to an isolated corner of the room. He didn't like the looks she was getting from the other patrons; though they weren't dangerous or knowingly rude, they were worried, curious, and much too interested in the proceedings for his tastes. He didn't want anyone asking questions; that was the last thing Amala needed right now. When she shook the bottle of pills in front of him, Jaing reached out and swiped them away from her, not caring if she protested his thievery. "Enough," he said sternly. "I'm your friend, Amala, not them. I understand...And I'm trying to help you." He stuck the pills in a pouch at his belt, his eyes staying locked onto her own, no matter how lucid or unfocused they were. "Amala, look at me." He tried to guide her to a chair.

"Just sit down and relax...I know you can't do anything about them now but...Just let them wear off. You don't need them, Amala..." He finally realized what she meant by 'they're being mean.' "Your probably having a bad reaction to the alcohol and the pills mixed together...Don't you realize that those things could hurt you? That they could even kill you? What are you thinking?" Jaing didn't even know what he was thinking. The soldier half of him, the half that said he should only look after himself, told him he shouldn't get involved. But the better half of him, his human side, told him he couldn't leave her. And that was what scared him; that now he needed her as much as she needed him, even if she wouldn't accept his help...He just didn't want to admit it.

[12]

[Kallile]

There was no protest this time to her hand being grabbed. There was little protest at being dragged away unexpectedly. There was, however, a rather haughty (if not delayed) protest to having the pills snatched from her. “H-hey!” She hiccupped out, her eyes bounding loosely after the bottle as he hid it from her. His words sounded muffled and distant, but she could still make out what he was saying.

“I want…” She began, closing her eyes and crinkling her eyebrows together. Her thoughts were getting fuzzy, the right words were scattering like roaches who had seen a light. “I want to believe that.” In truth, the Amala inside did. She could feel the little voice that had always told her to stop now screaming at her for murdering any chances she may have had. It was telling her to fight against the chemical reaction in her bloodstream, but she didn’t know how or where to begin. A tear slide down her cheek; wishing now, looking at Jaing’s face, that she would have listened and just stayed at the bar with him. A stranger only hours ago, now he didn't seem so distant to her.

When he stared at her, once seated, Amala’s eyes slid in and out of focus madly and her breathes seemed to catch in her throat more often. Only a handful of minutes had gone by but already the effects were coming on strong. She looked to Jaing again, seeing his face fully again without the blur.

Leaning towards him she rested her head on the cold armor. Despite the fact she wished the armor wasn’t there, she couldn’t deny that the coolness made her flushed face feel better. She closed her eyes, more tears running silently down her face. “I…I want to be the person you seem to think I am.” She lifted her face and placed her hand underneath. Mascara would probably not be appreciated on any army uniform—that much she knew even in her muddled state of mind. “I just don’t know how…without them. They make me relax. They make me nice. They make me what you think I should be….right?”

Her eyes slid up to him: watery, unfocused, and in horrid disrepair as far as makeup was concerned. “Everyone likes me better this way…”

[12]

[MillietheWarrior]

Jaing was frantically worried that she was slipping in and out of consciousness. Her unfocused, bleary eyes were a dead giveaway that she had hardly heard what he’d said. He kept a firm grasp on her hand, not wanting her to spook and get up and run or pass out on the floor. She was vulnerable in this state, like a frightened animal that had been cornered. Jaing wasn’t going to let something happen to her; he’d feel responsible. “Then believe it,” Jaing said softly, tugging her hand to make her look at him. “Believe it. And don’t believe what anyone else says. I’m not lying to you Amala...” He trailed off, watching as she tried to collect herself and catch her breath.

He tried to think of what his father, Kal, might do if he were in the situation. But as much as he tried to imagine it, he doubted his buir would have ever let himself be sucked into something like this. Kal might’ve minded his own business, but Jaing wasn’t about to. He wasn’t about to leave Amala, now or --and this thought scared him-- ever. He squashed those feelings down as hard as he could, promising himself that he’d deal with them later.

When she leaned against him, Jaing felt some semblance of peace. His mind was completely jumbled as a thousand different thoughts jumped around in it, but he knew Amala must be feeling ten times worse, and her problems came first. He reached his arm around her, laying it carefully across her back. It was an awkward situation for him; he wasn’t used to comforting people. But for Amala, he’d do the best he could.  He looked down and was surprised and alarmed to see she was crying.

Tentatively, he reached out to wipe the tears away with one gloved hand, frowning slightly when she pulled away from him as if she were afraid she’d smudge his armor. He circled his arm tighter about her to reassure her, and marveled at the fact that, only a few hours ago, she was just another woman in a bar. Now it was much more personal...For the both of them.

“Amala, you are the person I think you are. And you have been this whole time. It’s the pills and the drinks that change you...It makes you someone different...I like the real Amala better.” He paused, and took a deep breath, staring down at her. His helmet lay forgotten on the bar behind them, and it seemed as though the onlookers had learned to mind their own business. They respected their lieutenant’s privacy, and had turned their attention elsewhere.

“I don’t think you should be anyone but who you are. Don’t worry about anyone else's opinion; not mine, not theirs, not your co-workers. Who cares what they think about, Amala. You don’t need any of this stuff to make you pretty, or funny or nice. You were doing just fine without them...Your special the way you are. And you just need someone to help you see it.” He smoothed her hair down slightly, and smiled softly down at her. “Just...Don’t cry anymore. Me and you, we’ll sit this spell out together. And then I can help you. I don't care how long it takes...I'll help you get over this...How about that?”

[13]

[Kallile]

((I’ll never get over seeing someone else named Kal and realizing you aren’t talking about me. XD ))

Lying…everyone else was lying. That one little fact stayed on her mind like a sour taste on ones tongue. Of course everyone lied, she tried to reason, that was why she did what she had just done. Lie about the person she didn’t like being—the person no one else seemed to appreciate. She looked up almost obediently as her hands were tugged on, nodding to him. “Then…I believe you.”

She almost melted into his arm—something unthinkable a few hours ago. In fact she seemed starved for any sort of caring touch, the arm supporting her back might as well have been a stuffed animal to a frightened child. She leaned into him, closing her eyes for a moment before snapping them back open. No. She could not relax that much, she could not let the battle inside of her turn ugly. No sleeping—not now.

The glove swept across her cheek and she felt ashamed to see all the marks that marred it afterwards. She still could not place why, of all people, this man was so openly willing to throw himself out there to help her. Most people reacted by offering her more drinks until she was truly the life of the party. This was not at all what she had expected…Jaing was nothing like she had anticipated.

“I’m glad you see it...because it’s very good at hiding from me.” She said, trying to smile. It came out rather sad, though, because she knew it was the truth. There was a promising moment, as he finished talking, that it became a genuine smile again. Her eyes slid their focus around, and she furrowed her eyebrows and lost the smile. She reached her own shaking hand up to wipe a tear away before Jaing could see it race down her wet cheek. “But…you’re just stationed here you said.” She retaliated, rubbing her forehead softly as if trying to remember what exactly they had talked about earlier. “You can’t always be here…what happens then?”

A new kind of pain swept over her that made her want to curl into a ball and just let the tears flow. Here was some ray of hope, of a chance to live life free of that which bound her…and all in an instant she remembered there was a string attached. One day, Jaing would leave. What if the day came too soon?

[13]

[MillietheWarrior]

Jaing felt his heart flutter with relief when she looked up at him and agreed. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and held her closer to him. He still couldn’t quite believe this was all happening. He glanced down at Amala, wondering, for a brief moment, what it would be like to live with her forever. He wondered if she’d accept him if she knew about some of the things he’d done; people he had killed, innocent and otherwise, things he had stolen or blown up. Or the fact that he was a Mandalorian. Mandalorians were feared and respected throughout the galaxy. Did that btoher Amala?  Jaing knew, one day, he’d leave the army to set up shop on Mandalore, his father‘s home planet. He’d start a family there, live out a good, long life of happiness...He hoped. Would Amala be that person he’d create a life with? Could he really help her? Jaing certainly hoped so.

But that was...Who knew how many years away. “Who we really are is hidden from all of us at first,” he said at last, his voice soft. “It’s up to you to find your true self buried deep inside of you, and accept and make peace with who you are.” Was that how he’d done it? The first time he’d killed someone on one of his missions, did he have to face the killer inside of him? Jaing shuddered to think about it, and realized it'd never bothered him before now. Amala was already changing and affecting him in small, yet important, ways. Jaing sighed softly, and pulled her close, patting her back in a soothing manner. He didn't care if she got makeup on his armor or his gloves; nothing that small seemed to matter to him.  “Yeah,” he said at last. “I am only stationed here...Just for a while. I don’t always know how long I’ll be in one place but...” He paused. “As long as I’m here, I’ll stay with you, Amala. And...If you want...” He paused thoughtfully, looking a bit anxious about his question and her answer.

“If you want, you could...Stay with me and my family. I...Would like that. I won’t be in the army forever you know.” His voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper; this was dangerous talk, something he couldn’t let anyone else know. He didn’t even know if he trusted Amala enough with the precious information; but it seemed as though he did. That was a big step; Jaing and his brothers hardly trusted anyone outside their own circle. But Amala was mandokarla, and she was now a part of Jaing's inner circle, even if he wasn't part of his family's yet.“When I leave you could...You could come with me.” He smiled, almost wryly. “If you don’t mind moving around from place to place, wearing armor, and a giant, tough and mushy family that’ll accept just about anyone.”

[14]

((See? Snap decisions. XD If he didn’t think Amala would’ve freaked out, he prolly would’ve just asked her to marry him. ^^ I don’t think she could take a shock like that right now, though. -Chuckles- I’mma PM joo about somthin’.
Mandorkarla; basically means she's got the right stuff. Like she'd make a good Mando, and he admires her for it. ))

[Kallile]

When Jaing exhaled Amala didn’t seem to notice that he had been holding his breathe either. She watched him while keeping her eyes more focused towards her chest plate, and wondered what he must be thinking. She nodded, thinking about the philosophy he spoke to her.

She had never given herself a chance to figure out her real self—ever since she was old enough to pass for legal age. She’d seen the general reaction to people who did what she had done, she had wanted that seemingly honest attention without putting herself out there to get hurt by rejection. Look where it had brought her—a miserable job and next to no friends who would miss her. If there was one, she’d be deeply surprised.

Her eyes rose back up to him hopefully when he said he’d stay with her. She believed it. But when asked to come with him, she looked back over to his brothers’—a people she did not understand. Would they really accept her? Could she do the things they did? The way Jaing spoke when he asked sounded like a death sentence, even to her fuzzy hearing. Was that a life of betterment…if he was there.

She smiled softly, looking back into those orange eyes of his. They were honest and despite being rather intimidating the first time they had met, now Amala found some kind of peace in them. “It will take me a day or two to cancel everything so no one in this town thinks I’ve come up missing. The armor...we'll talk about that later.” She said with a small grin. Life there, with him to help her, had to be better than here.

As her eyes started to slide closed again Amala noticed for the first time that the world outside that she could see from the window was hazy and foggy. There was no drumming sound on the roof anymore. Apparently, the storms had stopped and there could be no better time. The tone Jaing had last spoken in had send chills down her spine that she could still feel. Maybe they needed to get out of here to talk about any of that anymore. Somewhere no one else was around.

“Can we go outside for a while? I need some fresh air and if we sit here much longer…”

She trailed off, knowing they both knew the worst possible outcome if she slipped into sleep now.

[14]

[MillietheWarrior]

The hope in Amala's eyes gave Jaing hope of his own. He'd never done anything like this before, or cared about anyone outside of his family; yet...here he was. Perhaps he could help Amala work out her problems. He certainly hoped so. All he knew now was that he'd never abandon her to her own devices; that would be a death sentence. "That would be best," Jaing said at last. "I don't want anyone asking any unwanted questions, or trying to track you down. Where I live...It's a place best kept secret..." He didn't dare say anymore; there were too many open ears in this place. Kyrimorut, a small outpost his father had set up on Mandalore, had to remain unknown and secret. Jaing couldn’t tell Amala about it now, nor could he tell her where it was.

He chuckled. “We’ll get you the best set of beskgar’gam money can buy,” he said at last. “And you can paint it any color you want...But yes, that’ll come later.” He followed her gaze to stare out the window, and realized that in the time they’d spent together, the rain had completely stopped. Now the angry, dark clouds swirling above the small town seemed purged of their burden, and floated lazily about in the sky, still blocking the sun. He turned back to Amala when she spoke, and nodded lightly, pulling her up along with him. “Of course, cyar’ika,” he said at last, a small smile on his face. He kept his hand firmly wrapped around hers, not daring to let go for fear she might wander off. As he stepped back towards the bar, he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a credit chip, tossing it to the bartender, who nodded and smiled.

Grabbing his helmet, which had remained undisturbed on the bar, Jaing clipped it to his belt with his free hand, and tugged lightly on Amala with his other. “All right then,” he said quietly, ignoring the smiles he got from a few of his fellow Clones. “Let’s go.” He grabbed he handle on the door, opening it wide enough for her to go through before him. He caught a glimpse of the world outside after the rain; puddles everywhere, dripping overhangs, sopping sand and grass and trees. He glanced at Amala’s attire; that wasn’t going to do her any good. “Amala...Do you happen to live nearby? I don’t think those clothes are best suited for a walk...It’s fairly cold, and still very wet. You don’t want to get sick, now, cyar’ika.” He paused thoughtfully. "We could always stop somewhere and buy you something warmer, if you wanted," he suggested helpfully, still holding her hand reassuringly in his own.

[15]

((Ah...Horrible post. Sorry if he seems a bit rushed. XD
beskgar’gam: full set of armor.
cyar’ika: sweetheart, term of endearment. Can be used towards anyone the user truly cares about.))

[Kallile]

She smiled at Jaing, happy to see him more relaxed. There was a weekend without anyone there and the higher ups impossible to reach. That made for a few days for her to get everything taken care of. She deeply hoped Jaing would stay stationed here that long. Her mind was far from prying thoughts—she was still trying to think clearly through the fog of the drugs coursing through her system. She would worry about things like that later, right now she needed to get well.

She laughed a little, placing her hand on his chest plate thoughtfully. “You’ll have your hands full teaching me your language.” She followed him up to collect their things—flimsily picking up her bag in one hand. She thought of asking the bartender for some bread or something, but decided against it. Too much time had passed, most of the stuff would be in her bloodstream by now and passed the point of being sopped up by bread. Clinging to Jaing’s arm and trying not to look at his brothers as they left. She had seen those sorts of smiles before and they would forever make her uneasy. She hoped with time, she could learn to accept it from them.

Blinking wearily towards the sun, Amala let her bag handles slip to her elbow as she raised a hand to shield her eyes. It was something like early evening by now, judging by all the small businesses that were already closing. She nodded softly. “I do…it’ll still be a bit of a walk though. Probably fifteen blocks away in the least, unless me manage to catch a cab.”

She looked down at what she was wearing, now rubbing her temple as a small headache began brewing. Deities above, why, why was she wearing this in front of this man? It was all in that moment she realized how destructive she was to herself. “I think I’ll be able to make it there. This…” she paused, biting her bottom lip a little. She didn’t want him to see anymore of her messed up world. “This…isn’t the first time I’ve made a trip home like this, I’m afraid.”

She pulled her hair back out of her eyes, remembering how awful she must look. All this was such a new sensation. She never cared once she was in her ‘zone’. She never cried around company, she never slipped up like she just had. Most importantly, she had never let a guy like Jaing take her by the hand and have it, well, mean something. She wasn't sure exactly what the sensation was, but it felt warm and reassuring. The water was quickly soaking into the once white, now brown tinged, ribbons that laced around her ankles but she didn't seem to mind. This was the beginning of something new, she hoped, and for the moment her outfit didn't matter to her.

[15]

(( EDIT: Added some stuff to make it flow a little better. P= ))