Jaing let go of Amala's hand to wrap his arm around her waist, keeping her close; but more importantly, he was keeping her steady. "I'm sure your a fast learner," he said with a smile, his eyes scanning the streets. "And it's not as hard as it seems...We'll start slow, cyar'ika." Jaing followed Amala's gaze to the sky, and sighed as he noticed there were more clouds coming in to block the sun. He realized, as she revealed that she did live relatively close by, they'd most likely have to hoof it to her place. There were very few taxis roaming the streets, it seemed; he would have bet money on the fact that they were waiting until all the bars' patrons filed out at closing. Lots of drunks, meant lots more cabs, meant lots more fare. That didn't seem like it was very fair for the few customers who needed a ride now, but it made sense. These locals weren't as slow witted as he first thought.
"Well," he said at last. "We can walk for a little while. It'll be good to be out in the fresh air. But if you get tired, I'll round us up a cab..." he paused thoughtfully, then smiled at her playfully. His helmet bounced against his hip as they began walking down the sidewalk. The first of the stars were twinkling in the evening sky as the sun began sinking down on the horizon; it'd probably be dark when they reached her home. "And if we can't catch one, I'll just carry you there." His smile faded when she revealed that she'd made this trip home before; and he could bet she'd been alone, and probably unable to even support herself. Jaing didn't like to think about it, and just picturing her wobbling down the street to wherever she happened to live, alone, in the pitch darkness, made him uneasy.
His arm tightened slightly around her waist, as if he was afraid to let her go. "We'd better get a move on, cyar'ika. I don't like the looks of those clouds...But while we walk, let's talk." He paused thoughtfully, and then gazed down at her with a grin. "I've come to realize that we don't know much about each other. So why don't we start getting to know one another." He raised a questioning eyebrow, his smile still evident in his eyes. "Anything in particular you'd like to know about me?" As he said this, he reached out a hand for her to give him her bag with a mumbled; "Let me carry that for you, cyar'ika."
[16]
((Gah, horrible...Sorry it feels a bit rushed.))
Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 07/31/2009 10:38 PM
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
+Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 07/31/2009 11:01 PM
The arm around her waist made Amala tense for just a moment. She had often times thought about how to deal with situations like this—a stranger bringing her home. A stranger having a hold of her, even in public. All had once been terrible, horrifying thoughts. But now she wasn’t so sure. Of course, this man was still practically a stranger. Heck, she barely knew him and she had agreed to run away with him. Yet by some miracle…she was alright with the idea.
Amala laughed a little as he offered to carry her if a cab could not be found. “ I can’t let you do that.” She giggled innocently. “You’ve already proven you’re in the ‘shining armor’ category. Carrying me home might be overkill.” Indeed, he had. Now moving a little easier with his help stabilizing her, and placed her other arm on his shoulder to get it out of their way and allowed him to take the bag he had requested.
There was, if anything, one question that plagued her mind. It was one she felt she already knew the answer to, but she had to ask anyway. She pushed it from her mind from now—they were on a new path of discovery, it was best to keep it that way for the moment. “Well,” she mused, looking up at the darkening sky. At least a few stars could be seen—maybe they’d beat the next rain after all. “A few, I guess.”
Her grin was playful, even though her eyes still slid ever so slightly from time to time. Seemed the exercise was making the chemicals move through her system more quickly, at least. “For starters, where are you from, if you’re allowed to tell me.”
Indeed, she didn’t know how much he actually could answer for her. Military tended to be hush hush, so she was expecting a lot of polite turn-downs to her answers. But she could at least try. There was so much she was confused about—the Clones, this whole army, his language. She knew there were many intersections between different worlds here—that’s what made this place so wonderful. “And do you ever get to wear anything other than armor?”
She giggled a little at the last question playfully. Well, it wasn’t every day a metal-clad man met you at a bar, now was it? She wanted to dive into things about his culture, his brothers…the consequences of him taking her with him. But she still felt…eerie about asking them out in the open. The way he had spoken earlier still echoed in her mind.
“What about you? Any questions for me?”
[16]
((Nah, you’re fine. XD))
Amala laughed a little as he offered to carry her if a cab could not be found. “ I can’t let you do that.” She giggled innocently. “You’ve already proven you’re in the ‘shining armor’ category. Carrying me home might be overkill.” Indeed, he had. Now moving a little easier with his help stabilizing her, and placed her other arm on his shoulder to get it out of their way and allowed him to take the bag he had requested.
There was, if anything, one question that plagued her mind. It was one she felt she already knew the answer to, but she had to ask anyway. She pushed it from her mind from now—they were on a new path of discovery, it was best to keep it that way for the moment. “Well,” she mused, looking up at the darkening sky. At least a few stars could be seen—maybe they’d beat the next rain after all. “A few, I guess.”
Her grin was playful, even though her eyes still slid ever so slightly from time to time. Seemed the exercise was making the chemicals move through her system more quickly, at least. “For starters, where are you from, if you’re allowed to tell me.”
Indeed, she didn’t know how much he actually could answer for her. Military tended to be hush hush, so she was expecting a lot of polite turn-downs to her answers. But she could at least try. There was so much she was confused about—the Clones, this whole army, his language. She knew there were many intersections between different worlds here—that’s what made this place so wonderful. “And do you ever get to wear anything other than armor?”
She giggled a little at the last question playfully. Well, it wasn’t every day a metal-clad man met you at a bar, now was it? She wanted to dive into things about his culture, his brothers…the consequences of him taking her with him. But she still felt…eerie about asking them out in the open. The way he had spoken earlier still echoed in her mind.
“What about you? Any questions for me?”
[16]
((Nah, you’re fine. XD))
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/01/2009 5:09 AM
Jaing felt Amala tense beside him, and wondering if it was him that’d made her do that, loosened his grip slightly on her. He didn’t want her to ever feel uncomfortable around him. “Of course you can,” Jaing stated happily, finding that he liked the sound of her laughter. It was soft, and gentle, and seemed to show a side of her that few, if any, had ever seen. Jaing wondered if all the people who had ever dismissed Amala as something to be ignored or discarded knew what a gem they’d tossed away. Amala didn’t deserve to feel like she had to dress up or drink to make others like her; she should feel content and safe as the woman she was. Jaing suddenly found himself angry at the world that had cast her aside and made her feel like she needed to be someone she wasn’t to fit in. What kind of people treated a human being that way? Jaing sighed mentally and growled; he could think of a few.
“Besides, I don’t think your very heavy,” he said with a smile. “And who knows? You might actually want me to carry you after a few blocks; it can get tiring walking around in...Are you even wearing high heels?” He glanced at her feet, a confused look on his face. But the bottom of her dress obscured his view of her shoes; he couldn’t tell. Chuckling, he felt himself relax completely as she fell into step beside him, her pace matching his perfectly. The arm across his back felt like lead, but it was a good feeling, one that made his stomach flutter, and his heart beat faster. He’d heard Etain talk about love once; was this what it felt like? “I’m allowed to tell you...Just not around too many other people. Sometimes...The walls have ears,” he said seriously, his face slightly grave.
But it seemed to brighten up slightly as he began speaking about his home. “Technically speaking, I live where the army sends me. But my real home, where my heritage comes from, is a place called Mandalore. It‘s as rough as a bantha’s backside, and twice as harsh. But it’s home, and I do love it. There’s a lot of forests and oceans and farmland there, and a few scattered towns and villages. Mostly, we live on the outskirts of a place called Keldabe. One day, I’ll take you there; it’s called, Kyrimorut. It’s where my family lives...And I will, someday as well.” He blinked, and glanced down at her. “After hearing that, do you still want to live there with me? I’m sure if it sounds too rough, we could always find somewhere else...” Here he was, already making plans for the future, when they didn’t know much about each other at all. But if Amala wanted to live somewhere else, Jaing would not protest.
Like all Mandalorians, he had made the snap decision on who he wanted to marry and spend the rest of his life with, and he wasn’t about to change it. He already loved Amala, as strange as it sounded, and he was willing to do anything to make her happy; even if it meant staying here, at the Dead Coast, or living somewhere she preferred. They could always visit his family on occasion if that was the case. When she asked about his armor, he looked down at his chest plate. “I think it makes me look rather dashing,” he said playfully, nudging her slightly. “But yes, I do wear other things occasionally. Civilian clothes, fatigues...And my own personal set of armor, my beskar’gam. It’s a bit different than my army rig. And it’s made of beskgar; the toughest metal you’ll find in the galaxy. Mandalorians usually wear their armor most of the time; like a second skin...But we do wear other clothes too. I just don't own very many. I don't own much of anything, actually...”
He chuckled suddenly. “Why?” He paused, and then grinned. “Don’t you like the armor?” He was only being playful, and his eyes glinted brightly when he spoke. The sun was still dipping low over the horizon, sinking with a slow and steady ease as it clung to the waking world. Shadows began falling all around them as more and more stars appeared in the twilight sky. “Well...Questions for you...” He paused thoughtfully. “Let’s see...What is your ideal job? I mean to say, what do you want to do someday? What’s your favorite color? What do you like to do for fun? And do you happen to have a last name?” He chuckled at that; he didn’t even know her last name, but he was already planning to whisk her away and marry her someday.
[17]
“Besides, I don’t think your very heavy,” he said with a smile. “And who knows? You might actually want me to carry you after a few blocks; it can get tiring walking around in...Are you even wearing high heels?” He glanced at her feet, a confused look on his face. But the bottom of her dress obscured his view of her shoes; he couldn’t tell. Chuckling, he felt himself relax completely as she fell into step beside him, her pace matching his perfectly. The arm across his back felt like lead, but it was a good feeling, one that made his stomach flutter, and his heart beat faster. He’d heard Etain talk about love once; was this what it felt like? “I’m allowed to tell you...Just not around too many other people. Sometimes...The walls have ears,” he said seriously, his face slightly grave.
But it seemed to brighten up slightly as he began speaking about his home. “Technically speaking, I live where the army sends me. But my real home, where my heritage comes from, is a place called Mandalore. It‘s as rough as a bantha’s backside, and twice as harsh. But it’s home, and I do love it. There’s a lot of forests and oceans and farmland there, and a few scattered towns and villages. Mostly, we live on the outskirts of a place called Keldabe. One day, I’ll take you there; it’s called, Kyrimorut. It’s where my family lives...And I will, someday as well.” He blinked, and glanced down at her. “After hearing that, do you still want to live there with me? I’m sure if it sounds too rough, we could always find somewhere else...” Here he was, already making plans for the future, when they didn’t know much about each other at all. But if Amala wanted to live somewhere else, Jaing would not protest.
Like all Mandalorians, he had made the snap decision on who he wanted to marry and spend the rest of his life with, and he wasn’t about to change it. He already loved Amala, as strange as it sounded, and he was willing to do anything to make her happy; even if it meant staying here, at the Dead Coast, or living somewhere she preferred. They could always visit his family on occasion if that was the case. When she asked about his armor, he looked down at his chest plate. “I think it makes me look rather dashing,” he said playfully, nudging her slightly. “But yes, I do wear other things occasionally. Civilian clothes, fatigues...And my own personal set of armor, my beskar’gam. It’s a bit different than my army rig. And it’s made of beskgar; the toughest metal you’ll find in the galaxy. Mandalorians usually wear their armor most of the time; like a second skin...But we do wear other clothes too. I just don't own very many. I don't own much of anything, actually...”
He chuckled suddenly. “Why?” He paused, and then grinned. “Don’t you like the armor?” He was only being playful, and his eyes glinted brightly when he spoke. The sun was still dipping low over the horizon, sinking with a slow and steady ease as it clung to the waking world. Shadows began falling all around them as more and more stars appeared in the twilight sky. “Well...Questions for you...” He paused thoughtfully. “Let’s see...What is your ideal job? I mean to say, what do you want to do someday? What’s your favorite color? What do you like to do for fun? And do you happen to have a last name?” He chuckled at that; he didn’t even know her last name, but he was already planning to whisk her away and marry her someday.
[17]
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
+Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+
-
MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/01/2009 6:49 AM
Amala smiled appreciatively at the loosened grip. It wasn’t that there was a lack of trust for Jaing or for that matter anything to do with him. It was a nervous tick around strangers, really. But, that said, she was now leading him just as much, so she leaned back easily into his arm now that both seemed to have even pull in the situation. She giggled though: he was right, he could swoop her up easily if he wanted too. Amala wasn’t a twig, but she was still a very petite woman.
Again, she laughed rather easily, lifting her frilled dress up just a few inched in mid-walk. “Worse. Platforms.” She joked. Well, half joked. They really were about as uncomfortable as it got for a long walk. She’d manage—for now, with Jaing’s support, it felt as if she wasn’t even trying that hard to walk. She released the dress material and let it lightly drag the ground again. In about fifteen more minutes, she knew she’d be soaked up to her knee but didn’t really care. She never wanted to see this garment and have it’s memories again.
Her blue eyes glistened softly as she listened to him proudly tell her about his home. It did sound rough…it sounded like it might be harder to live on that just a night at the bar. But she found herself nodding to him despite these thoughts and was beginning to wonder what was getting into her. “I’d like to visit there first before I tell you a decision.” She said honestly, still smiling. “I don’t want to tear you away from something you obviously love.” Her smiled seemed, for the moment, permanent. She had never had anyone offer to up and leave their home for her just because she didn’t like the sounds of it. How could she even think of being so heartless as to tell him she’d never even try to live there?
An unexpected blush crept onto her face at his first comment on the armor. She wasn’t about to deny the truth in that—it was part of what had kept her at the bar after running into him. Once the helmet had come off, there was an entirely different person beneath. “I see. Do you even like wearing other types of clothes, then? Or is your armor more comfortable for you?” She asked.
She giggled again, using her free hand to playfully tap on his chestplate. “I dunno...” she said quizzically, but still with playfulness dancing in her eyes.
Ah, her turn. She inhaled and looked to the starry sky thoughtfully—her favorite place to look when she was thinking. Her teachers had often playfully accused her of writing test answers on the ceiling because of it. Much to the chagrin of the students around her, who looked up also…just incase. “My ideal job would be anything but a job, I think. I like the idea of being about to explore different things—like making a mess of my kitchen trying a new recipe or writing a stack of short poems just to see if they go anywhere with publishers. Sounds lame…but I really like the idea of being a housewife someday and being able to do all those things. But for now, I think as far as an actual job goes…that I’d like to work in a nursery. I enjoy actually getting to watch my hard work turn into something beautiful.” Her eyes sparkled a little at this. It wasn’t much…but he’d see what she meant when they got to her home and saw the assorted window boxes.
She looked up at him almost sheepishly—in a world that promoted women to get out and rule the world, she was sure she sounded anything but glamorous wanting her later life to be spent in her home. “The last three are easy, since I think I already answered one with the other. My favorite color is teal, and I do happen to have a last name. It’s Desmond.”
She grinned now, bordering a smile, and her eyes sparkled again. “You’re not going to use that to look up a document of my entire life, are you?” She asked playfully. She didn’t know much about the army, but she did know that most (from the movies, anyway) seemed to have access to these super computers that allowed them to find out anything about anyone.
[17]
((oo; Whoa, sorry for the mini-novel! XD ))
Again, she laughed rather easily, lifting her frilled dress up just a few inched in mid-walk. “Worse. Platforms.” She joked. Well, half joked. They really were about as uncomfortable as it got for a long walk. She’d manage—for now, with Jaing’s support, it felt as if she wasn’t even trying that hard to walk. She released the dress material and let it lightly drag the ground again. In about fifteen more minutes, she knew she’d be soaked up to her knee but didn’t really care. She never wanted to see this garment and have it’s memories again.
Her blue eyes glistened softly as she listened to him proudly tell her about his home. It did sound rough…it sounded like it might be harder to live on that just a night at the bar. But she found herself nodding to him despite these thoughts and was beginning to wonder what was getting into her. “I’d like to visit there first before I tell you a decision.” She said honestly, still smiling. “I don’t want to tear you away from something you obviously love.” Her smiled seemed, for the moment, permanent. She had never had anyone offer to up and leave their home for her just because she didn’t like the sounds of it. How could she even think of being so heartless as to tell him she’d never even try to live there?
An unexpected blush crept onto her face at his first comment on the armor. She wasn’t about to deny the truth in that—it was part of what had kept her at the bar after running into him. Once the helmet had come off, there was an entirely different person beneath. “I see. Do you even like wearing other types of clothes, then? Or is your armor more comfortable for you?” She asked.
She giggled again, using her free hand to playfully tap on his chestplate. “I dunno...” she said quizzically, but still with playfulness dancing in her eyes.
Ah, her turn. She inhaled and looked to the starry sky thoughtfully—her favorite place to look when she was thinking. Her teachers had often playfully accused her of writing test answers on the ceiling because of it. Much to the chagrin of the students around her, who looked up also…just incase. “My ideal job would be anything but a job, I think. I like the idea of being about to explore different things—like making a mess of my kitchen trying a new recipe or writing a stack of short poems just to see if they go anywhere with publishers. Sounds lame…but I really like the idea of being a housewife someday and being able to do all those things. But for now, I think as far as an actual job goes…that I’d like to work in a nursery. I enjoy actually getting to watch my hard work turn into something beautiful.” Her eyes sparkled a little at this. It wasn’t much…but he’d see what she meant when they got to her home and saw the assorted window boxes.
She looked up at him almost sheepishly—in a world that promoted women to get out and rule the world, she was sure she sounded anything but glamorous wanting her later life to be spent in her home. “The last three are easy, since I think I already answered one with the other. My favorite color is teal, and I do happen to have a last name. It’s Desmond.”
She grinned now, bordering a smile, and her eyes sparkled again. “You’re not going to use that to look up a document of my entire life, are you?” She asked playfully. She didn’t know much about the army, but she did know that most (from the movies, anyway) seemed to have access to these super computers that allowed them to find out anything about anyone.
[17]
((oo; Whoa, sorry for the mini-novel! XD ))
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/01/2009 9:33 PM
Jaing cringed comically when she showed him her shoes. "Oi..." he said at last. "Sorry to hear that. But don't worry. Like I said, if they start to bother you, I'll just carry you home; no big deal." He seemed to find the predicament amusing, and the fact that she wore platforms instead of the normal high heels. "I'll never understand why people wear shoes like that. What if you were wearing high heels, and you stepped on a sewer grate?" He chuckled softly, squeezing her waist slightly to show he was only joking. He didn't mind anything she wore; whatever she wanted to dress up in, was fine with him. But he still didn't think she needed all the fancy, flashy clothing to look beautiful. She was fine just the way she was, and Jaing found himself wishing she never changed. How could you change perfection?
Okay, that sounded sort of lame...
Jaing had to shake his head. He was starting to sound cheesy, even in his thoughts. But, he realized, it was all very true. He tilted his head slightly to hear her better, and felt a lightness in his step as she said she'd rather wait to see it before she told him what her decision would be. "You won't tear me away from what I love," he said smiling slightly. "As cheesy as I know I'm beginning to sound, you're what I love. And if you don't want to live there, then that's fine with me. I'll follow you wherever you want to go." He shrugged one shoulder, and tilted his head happily, content to just walk and listen to her talk to him. "Oh, I like wearing other types of clothes just fine...But my armor makes me who I am. Not this rig, of course...it pinches in some uncomfortable places sometimes. Whoever designed it did not design it for comfort."
His eyes twinkled with amusement when he said this, finding it slightly funny, if not entirely true. He sighed in contentment, and tilted his head to look down at her as she revealed that she'd rather be a housewife than a career-woman. "Well, anything you want to do is fine with me, cyar'ika. To be honest, in Mandalorian culture, the women sometimes work with the men in the field. Some of them are beroyase, or bounty hunters. All of them are warriors; even if they are housewives. They know even the most basic ways to defend themselves, their family, and the homestead. But many of them stay at home, to tend to the children, and to the family. It's really their choice. But everyone has their own role to fill in the family...Even the men. Working in a nursery is an admirable occupation. I think you'd be good at it. Your very calming; the children would love you. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to...And being a housewife is also a very admirable aspiration. "
He paused thoughtfully. "'Course, I'm gonna have to give you a few self-defense lessons, now that I think about it. I want to be sure your safe if I don't happen to be there..." Blinking slowly, he realized that what he just said might've frightened her, and pulled her a little closer. "But you don't need to worry about that for now. I won't let anything happen to you." They passed under a street lamp, and Jaing glanced up to see the moon hanging dully in the sky. The sun still hadn't quite set, so they were still gifted with a few more minutes of light. He wondered where she lived exactly, and figured Amala would give him some sort of sign when they were getting close. "Teal, huh...If you ever decide you want your own set of armor, cyar'ika, we'll have to incorporate that color into it. How does that sound?"
Jaing fixed her with an amused stare as she asked if he'd look up everything about her with the information she'd given him. He honestly knew he could if he wanted to, but he'd rather she told him about herself. "Well..." He smiled lightly. "I'd rather hear about yourself from you than some computer database...But if I wanted to, yes, I could. But I won't, because I'd much rather listen to you tell me. Your voice is much more pleasing than a toneless, electronic one...And as for last names...Mine is Skirata." He fell silent, and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, wondering how she'd react to hearing his last name. Would she like it? Would she even want it as her own one day? Jaing certainly hoped so...
[18]
((Nah. I love Amala's posts! <3))
Okay, that sounded sort of lame...
Jaing had to shake his head. He was starting to sound cheesy, even in his thoughts. But, he realized, it was all very true. He tilted his head slightly to hear her better, and felt a lightness in his step as she said she'd rather wait to see it before she told him what her decision would be. "You won't tear me away from what I love," he said smiling slightly. "As cheesy as I know I'm beginning to sound, you're what I love. And if you don't want to live there, then that's fine with me. I'll follow you wherever you want to go." He shrugged one shoulder, and tilted his head happily, content to just walk and listen to her talk to him. "Oh, I like wearing other types of clothes just fine...But my armor makes me who I am. Not this rig, of course...it pinches in some uncomfortable places sometimes. Whoever designed it did not design it for comfort."
His eyes twinkled with amusement when he said this, finding it slightly funny, if not entirely true. He sighed in contentment, and tilted his head to look down at her as she revealed that she'd rather be a housewife than a career-woman. "Well, anything you want to do is fine with me, cyar'ika. To be honest, in Mandalorian culture, the women sometimes work with the men in the field. Some of them are beroyase, or bounty hunters. All of them are warriors; even if they are housewives. They know even the most basic ways to defend themselves, their family, and the homestead. But many of them stay at home, to tend to the children, and to the family. It's really their choice. But everyone has their own role to fill in the family...Even the men. Working in a nursery is an admirable occupation. I think you'd be good at it. Your very calming; the children would love you. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to...And being a housewife is also a very admirable aspiration. "
He paused thoughtfully. "'Course, I'm gonna have to give you a few self-defense lessons, now that I think about it. I want to be sure your safe if I don't happen to be there..." Blinking slowly, he realized that what he just said might've frightened her, and pulled her a little closer. "But you don't need to worry about that for now. I won't let anything happen to you." They passed under a street lamp, and Jaing glanced up to see the moon hanging dully in the sky. The sun still hadn't quite set, so they were still gifted with a few more minutes of light. He wondered where she lived exactly, and figured Amala would give him some sort of sign when they were getting close. "Teal, huh...If you ever decide you want your own set of armor, cyar'ika, we'll have to incorporate that color into it. How does that sound?"
Jaing fixed her with an amused stare as she asked if he'd look up everything about her with the information she'd given him. He honestly knew he could if he wanted to, but he'd rather she told him about herself. "Well..." He smiled lightly. "I'd rather hear about yourself from you than some computer database...But if I wanted to, yes, I could. But I won't, because I'd much rather listen to you tell me. Your voice is much more pleasing than a toneless, electronic one...And as for last names...Mine is Skirata." He fell silent, and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, wondering how she'd react to hearing his last name. Would she like it? Would she even want it as her own one day? Jaing certainly hoped so...
[18]
((Nah. I love Amala's posts! <3))
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
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MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/01/2009 11:09 PM
Amala laughed lightly, shaking her head again. “No carrying.” She repeated. “And the answer to that is simple—you either walk around or on your toes. The latter of which is much harder and usually ends badly.” She grinned cheekily. “However if you don’t see it in time…then you’ll most likely be falling on your face.”
She gave a slight pull to his shoulder, directing them both right. “We’re almost there now.” She assured him. There was a pause when he began talking about his love for her being greater than his love of his home. She frowned a little, but gave a small and thankful smile. “I’m flattered you think that way…but we’re still so new to one another. I don’t want you to give up everything you are for me. Not your home, your family, anything.”
The serious tone was soon gone as she began laughing at the comment on his current armor. She couldn’t imagine that much any of it was comfortable. Though, she supposed if you were raised in it, it would be like a second skin. She couldn’t deny that it was part of him—she had met him in it, began this…this journey with him in the armor. She doubted there would be a time in which he would look like himself without it. He would look good, she had no doubt about that, but she wouldn't look himself.
Then, her amused tone turned into a small bit of laughter. “No…no. Not…exactly nursery as in children. Though I did do my fair share of babysitting in the past and still watch my neighbors children when they need and evening out. I mean…like a plant nursery. Raising different garden plants and things like that. Though I guess it is the same basics in the early stages. Both need your tenderness and attention to thrive.”
This did not stop her from listening to him tell about his culture. It sounded…well...better than anything she could imagine. The thought of being a warrior in any sense frightened her a little bit. She’d never once thought of fighting—that much was evident in how quickly and completely she had taken to drinks and pills to do anything but need to fight. But she nodded, trying not to look nervous.
“Self-defense can’t hurt any woman, I think.” She said, trying to soak in the information. There was certainly a lot of things flying around in her still-slightly swimming thoughts right now. “I’m open to learning, if you’re open to teaching a very non-athletic learner.” She grinned at him again, a type of challenge dancing in her eyes.
She let the grin remain. “Armor…there any way I can get used to that one piece at a time?” She joked. “And that sounds great. Maybe it will help compliment your new orange color.” Aha, seemed she wasn’t going to let that go. Though her eyes danced with laughter and told that she was playing then, too.
A sigh made her shoulder heave, and she seemed in deep contemplation over something--however playfully it may have been. “Well, I can do that. But I talk a lot slower and a lot less efficiently than a computer does. You may be here a while.” Again she tugged his shoulder, this time left. There was a small home, looking split into two halves to make room for a sudden boom in business people needing easy access to both work and play. “Well, Mr. Lieutenant Jaing Skirata…” she said in a deep exhale. Seemed that she didn't mind his last name at all. “This…is where I call home. Can I have my bag back? My keys are in there.”
The two-story home itself looked quaint—light sky blue siding accent with navy shutters and roof. Not to mention the deep navy side-by-side doors. The one half looked fairly empty on the outside save for a number of childrens toys left strewn across one half of the lawn. The other, however, looked much more like a home. Each window had a box of vibrantly colors flowers that had been flourishing in the tropical weather. In some of the upper windows, somewhere the owner had decided was safer from thieves, were a few trinkets that were hard to see from the street.
Amala smiled a little sadly at the house, realizing now that she wouldn’t be living there much longer.
[18]
(Editted to tidy up some of the mess a chattering husband happened to cause. >>; No major changes, though.)
She gave a slight pull to his shoulder, directing them both right. “We’re almost there now.” She assured him. There was a pause when he began talking about his love for her being greater than his love of his home. She frowned a little, but gave a small and thankful smile. “I’m flattered you think that way…but we’re still so new to one another. I don’t want you to give up everything you are for me. Not your home, your family, anything.”
The serious tone was soon gone as she began laughing at the comment on his current armor. She couldn’t imagine that much any of it was comfortable. Though, she supposed if you were raised in it, it would be like a second skin. She couldn’t deny that it was part of him—she had met him in it, began this…this journey with him in the armor. She doubted there would be a time in which he would look like himself without it. He would look good, she had no doubt about that, but she wouldn't look himself.
Then, her amused tone turned into a small bit of laughter. “No…no. Not…exactly nursery as in children. Though I did do my fair share of babysitting in the past and still watch my neighbors children when they need and evening out. I mean…like a plant nursery. Raising different garden plants and things like that. Though I guess it is the same basics in the early stages. Both need your tenderness and attention to thrive.”
This did not stop her from listening to him tell about his culture. It sounded…well...better than anything she could imagine. The thought of being a warrior in any sense frightened her a little bit. She’d never once thought of fighting—that much was evident in how quickly and completely she had taken to drinks and pills to do anything but need to fight. But she nodded, trying not to look nervous.
“Self-defense can’t hurt any woman, I think.” She said, trying to soak in the information. There was certainly a lot of things flying around in her still-slightly swimming thoughts right now. “I’m open to learning, if you’re open to teaching a very non-athletic learner.” She grinned at him again, a type of challenge dancing in her eyes.
She let the grin remain. “Armor…there any way I can get used to that one piece at a time?” She joked. “And that sounds great. Maybe it will help compliment your new orange color.” Aha, seemed she wasn’t going to let that go. Though her eyes danced with laughter and told that she was playing then, too.
A sigh made her shoulder heave, and she seemed in deep contemplation over something--however playfully it may have been. “Well, I can do that. But I talk a lot slower and a lot less efficiently than a computer does. You may be here a while.” Again she tugged his shoulder, this time left. There was a small home, looking split into two halves to make room for a sudden boom in business people needing easy access to both work and play. “Well, Mr. Lieutenant Jaing Skirata…” she said in a deep exhale. Seemed that she didn't mind his last name at all. “This…is where I call home. Can I have my bag back? My keys are in there.”
The two-story home itself looked quaint—light sky blue siding accent with navy shutters and roof. Not to mention the deep navy side-by-side doors. The one half looked fairly empty on the outside save for a number of childrens toys left strewn across one half of the lawn. The other, however, looked much more like a home. Each window had a box of vibrantly colors flowers that had been flourishing in the tropical weather. In some of the upper windows, somewhere the owner had decided was safer from thieves, were a few trinkets that were hard to see from the street.
Amala smiled a little sadly at the house, realizing now that she wouldn’t be living there much longer.
[18]
(Editted to tidy up some of the mess a chattering husband happened to cause. >>; No major changes, though.)
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/02/2009 4:41 PM
Jaing chuckled. "All right then, cyar'ika," he conceded, glancing up as they passed under another streetlight. "But I will never understand a woman's need to wear shoes that could potentially break their ankles. Seems impractical to me." He winked over at her, and hooked his free hand onto his belt. He could still hear her pills rattling around in the pouch he'd placed them in. When she wasn't looking, Jaing would throw them away somewhere she couldn't find them again. He wasn't going to risk her taking anymore of them. Glancing down at her, Jaing tilted his head with an impish smile, amused at her words. "I'm a Mando, Am'ika. Once I make my decision, there's not much that'll change my mind. And we're known for being pretty stubborn...But we always make the right choices."
He smiled gently, before his gaze traveled back to the sidewalk. He counted the cracks as they stepped over them, and turned when she did, following her small, slowly steadying strides with his larger, evenly paced ones. Jaing kept one eye on her, and one on where they were going. While he listened to her talk, he was silently mapping out the location in his head. He noted side streets, alleyways, dead ends, streetlamps, benches, people, and each different house they passed. Jaing never knew when he'd have to make a quick getaway...And it was just habit to memorize and know his surroundings. "Well...that's true." He paused thoughtfully, his face looking contemplative. "I'm sure you'd be just as good with kids as I think you are with plants."
He fell silent as they walked up a smaller street; they must've been getting close. "I've had worse students, trust me. Some of them couldn't even do five push-ups when they started," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. "And you can't be all that bad when it comes to athletics, Am'ika. I'm sure after a few bracing ten mile runs, you'll feel differently about it." But the amusement dancing in his eyes told her he was only kidding; sort of. Maybe a one mile run, working their way up to ten. It was important that Amala learn self-defense as well as physical endurance; you never knew when you'd have to fight and enemy, and then high tail it out of there. "Yeah," he continued. "I guess I'll need to repaint my armor soon, too, huh?"
He fell silent, before speaking only a moment later. "And you can do one piece at a time. Armor takes a lot of getting used to, so we won't start you off with a full set all at once...Eventually though, you'll be able to move effortlessly in it. But it's heavy..." Jaing laughed suddenly, and seemed to find something very funny. "My buir always joked that the reason he was so short, was because his armor was so heavy. Funny, isn't it?" Maybe not to Amala, but it sure was to Jaing. He didn't realize that even small things like that could bother a person.
Jaing lived in a simple way; he worked for the army, did his duty, never received pay or pension, loved his family, and planned to live on his home planet one day with a wife that loved him. For him, everything was simple, without a lot of complications. He didn't realize that some of this stuff that was so normal for him, might bother Amala; things like up and leaving, or forgetting about people you knew and trinkets and places you loved. They'd probably have to cross that bridge when they got there, and Jaing might never realize she was bothered unless she told him.
He sighed slowly as they turned left, and stopped in front of a small, plain looking house. Despite how small it seemed, it had a distinct feeling of home. It looked like it was well cared for and loved. Jaing fancied he could see Amala planting those flowers in the window herself. Jaing reached for her bag and handed it back to her, smiling slightly. "It's very nice, Am'ika..." he said at last, before a frown crossed his features. He noted the sad smile, and the way her eyes seemed to lose a faint bit of that spark he'd seen there earlier. When she laughed, her eyes had been alight and so alive. But now, the sadness he saw there... "Cyar'ika...If you don't want to leave your home...I won't force you," he said at last.
"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. If you want to stay here, and live in this house, then I can...Try and remain stationed here for as long as I can. And when I leave the army, I can come back..." He fell silent, a troubled look on his face as he tried to find the words to express what he was trying to say. "But you love this house. I don't want you to leave something you love, cyar'ika..."
[19]
((Rambles on a bit...XD Cars was on, and it was so distracting. Heh..So Jaing ended up ramlings a bit.))
He smiled gently, before his gaze traveled back to the sidewalk. He counted the cracks as they stepped over them, and turned when she did, following her small, slowly steadying strides with his larger, evenly paced ones. Jaing kept one eye on her, and one on where they were going. While he listened to her talk, he was silently mapping out the location in his head. He noted side streets, alleyways, dead ends, streetlamps, benches, people, and each different house they passed. Jaing never knew when he'd have to make a quick getaway...And it was just habit to memorize and know his surroundings. "Well...that's true." He paused thoughtfully, his face looking contemplative. "I'm sure you'd be just as good with kids as I think you are with plants."
He fell silent as they walked up a smaller street; they must've been getting close. "I've had worse students, trust me. Some of them couldn't even do five push-ups when they started," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. "And you can't be all that bad when it comes to athletics, Am'ika. I'm sure after a few bracing ten mile runs, you'll feel differently about it." But the amusement dancing in his eyes told her he was only kidding; sort of. Maybe a one mile run, working their way up to ten. It was important that Amala learn self-defense as well as physical endurance; you never knew when you'd have to fight and enemy, and then high tail it out of there. "Yeah," he continued. "I guess I'll need to repaint my armor soon, too, huh?"
He fell silent, before speaking only a moment later. "And you can do one piece at a time. Armor takes a lot of getting used to, so we won't start you off with a full set all at once...Eventually though, you'll be able to move effortlessly in it. But it's heavy..." Jaing laughed suddenly, and seemed to find something very funny. "My buir always joked that the reason he was so short, was because his armor was so heavy. Funny, isn't it?" Maybe not to Amala, but it sure was to Jaing. He didn't realize that even small things like that could bother a person.
Jaing lived in a simple way; he worked for the army, did his duty, never received pay or pension, loved his family, and planned to live on his home planet one day with a wife that loved him. For him, everything was simple, without a lot of complications. He didn't realize that some of this stuff that was so normal for him, might bother Amala; things like up and leaving, or forgetting about people you knew and trinkets and places you loved. They'd probably have to cross that bridge when they got there, and Jaing might never realize she was bothered unless she told him.
He sighed slowly as they turned left, and stopped in front of a small, plain looking house. Despite how small it seemed, it had a distinct feeling of home. It looked like it was well cared for and loved. Jaing fancied he could see Amala planting those flowers in the window herself. Jaing reached for her bag and handed it back to her, smiling slightly. "It's very nice, Am'ika..." he said at last, before a frown crossed his features. He noted the sad smile, and the way her eyes seemed to lose a faint bit of that spark he'd seen there earlier. When she laughed, her eyes had been alight and so alive. But now, the sadness he saw there... "Cyar'ika...If you don't want to leave your home...I won't force you," he said at last.
"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. If you want to stay here, and live in this house, then I can...Try and remain stationed here for as long as I can. And when I leave the army, I can come back..." He fell silent, a troubled look on his face as he tried to find the words to express what he was trying to say. "But you love this house. I don't want you to leave something you love, cyar'ika..."
[19]
((Rambles on a bit...XD Cars was on, and it was so distracting. Heh..So Jaing ended up ramlings a bit.))
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
+Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+
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MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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- Keystones: 10
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- Location: My legend began in the twelfth-century...FOOLS!
- Status: Working on my stupid novel and I hate it
Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/02/2009 5:30 PM
“Well,” Amala began, trying to be thoughtful about things. “I wear these because they make me taller, to be truthful. Why most women wear heels. We want to look tall and lean.” The rattling had not gotten by without her notice, but she made no outward movements to try and get them back. No, not now. She was calm around Jaing—she didn’t feel the stinging stares of strangers and prying eyes anymore. Those, he could have. Her real fear now was what he might secretly hunt for inside. She calmed herself though—the first step to change was letting old things go. Jaing could take and destroy…whatever he wished.
“Alright then.” She then teased back, “But I’m just an Amala—I need some facts and experiences before I make my decisions. We’re still going back to your home when we can, and I’ll see from there.”
She didn’t take much notice to him studying his surroundings. After all, if he had to leave again tonight Amala had a suspicion that he’d refuse her company any length of the way home. He would want her safe and tucked away in her house. She wasn’t ready to know what he had done for the army, what he might need to do for them, and she did her best not to question too much in the way of his motives. That could be discussed later when timing was better.
The mention of a ten mile run widened her eyes and made her stare up at him in disbelief. The twinkle soothed her, but she had a feeling that one day they would run ten miles together. No matter how much she might kick and scream about the idea. His sudden laughter caught her off guard but for once she did not tense. Instead, she laughed as well. “I hope he’s only joking…or there may not be much of me left after a few days in a full suit.” She calmed her laughter into amused giggles.
As her bag returned to her, she was quick to find the hidden key pocket and produce them from the bag. She gave a glance to her neighbors window, finding two little pairs of eyes peering over the windowsill in wild amazement that their babysitter was walking home with what they had called “cops”. Amala gave Jaing a slight tug as she unlocked the door. “We’ve been spotted, best get inside.” She said jokingly, waving the children off. She knew there was no danger in it--the parents knew Amala had never come home with anyone and would chalk it up to too much TV and sugar that day.
Once in, Amala dealt with the topic at hand. “Jaing…” She began, still sadly as she flicked on the light.
They were standing in a small foyer that lead to a tidy kitchen and a spotless dining and living room. There were assorted tropical plants decorating every blank spot, eloquent and aged looking painting that gave a calming effect. Elaborate snow globes and porcelain dolls finished the decorations from in their large glass cases to keep them protected from dust. Everything look so orderly for a woman with such a haunted mind.
“I…” She paused, letting the bag drop to the floor. “Even if things would work that way…I’d still be here. I’d be in the same environment, with the same people, that make me feel I need to do this night after night. And should you ever have to leave…”
She pivoted into him, placing her free arm around his waist in a sort of hug. “If I were ever alone in this place again…I don’t know that I could stay strong. I’ll miss this, yes. I’m not going to lie to you about that. But…there’s got to be more to life than what I’ve made it so far. I…I want to find that life. I want to stay with you. And if one day I can have all this sort of stuff back, then so be it. In the end it’s just stuff that won’t save me from myself.”
[19]
(Loudest post I've ever typed right there. XD Could never tell my parents never use their computer...)
“Alright then.” She then teased back, “But I’m just an Amala—I need some facts and experiences before I make my decisions. We’re still going back to your home when we can, and I’ll see from there.”
She didn’t take much notice to him studying his surroundings. After all, if he had to leave again tonight Amala had a suspicion that he’d refuse her company any length of the way home. He would want her safe and tucked away in her house. She wasn’t ready to know what he had done for the army, what he might need to do for them, and she did her best not to question too much in the way of his motives. That could be discussed later when timing was better.
The mention of a ten mile run widened her eyes and made her stare up at him in disbelief. The twinkle soothed her, but she had a feeling that one day they would run ten miles together. No matter how much she might kick and scream about the idea. His sudden laughter caught her off guard but for once she did not tense. Instead, she laughed as well. “I hope he’s only joking…or there may not be much of me left after a few days in a full suit.” She calmed her laughter into amused giggles.
As her bag returned to her, she was quick to find the hidden key pocket and produce them from the bag. She gave a glance to her neighbors window, finding two little pairs of eyes peering over the windowsill in wild amazement that their babysitter was walking home with what they had called “cops”. Amala gave Jaing a slight tug as she unlocked the door. “We’ve been spotted, best get inside.” She said jokingly, waving the children off. She knew there was no danger in it--the parents knew Amala had never come home with anyone and would chalk it up to too much TV and sugar that day.
Once in, Amala dealt with the topic at hand. “Jaing…” She began, still sadly as she flicked on the light.
They were standing in a small foyer that lead to a tidy kitchen and a spotless dining and living room. There were assorted tropical plants decorating every blank spot, eloquent and aged looking painting that gave a calming effect. Elaborate snow globes and porcelain dolls finished the decorations from in their large glass cases to keep them protected from dust. Everything look so orderly for a woman with such a haunted mind.
“I…” She paused, letting the bag drop to the floor. “Even if things would work that way…I’d still be here. I’d be in the same environment, with the same people, that make me feel I need to do this night after night. And should you ever have to leave…”
She pivoted into him, placing her free arm around his waist in a sort of hug. “If I were ever alone in this place again…I don’t know that I could stay strong. I’ll miss this, yes. I’m not going to lie to you about that. But…there’s got to be more to life than what I’ve made it so far. I…I want to find that life. I want to stay with you. And if one day I can have all this sort of stuff back, then so be it. In the end it’s just stuff that won’t save me from myself.”
[19]
(Loudest post I've ever typed right there. XD Could never tell my parents never use their computer...)
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/02/2009 9:44 PM
Jaing had to stifle a smile as the kids peered at them over the side of their window. They were cute little ad'ike. Jaing wondered if he'd ever have children of his own one day, and sincerely found himself hoping so. Of course, that was a ways off into the future. However, Jaing felt a strong stab of regret when he remembered how fast he was aging. The Clones genes had been tampered with, and to grow a Clone army in the amount of time their suppliers had wanted it, the Kaminoans had switched on the 'accelerated aging gene,' as Mereel called it. Jaing lived two years for every one year a regular human lived. Currently, he was only twelve, which meant, if he did his math right, he would be about twenty-four standard years old.
Already, a tad bit of gray was appearing at his temples, a trait all Clones seemed to share at this age (He attributed it to a high stress, high risk lifestyle); something that greatly disturbed his father Kal. But all his brothers seemed to be getting that as well. The Nulls were older than most Clones, so they seemed to always have less time than the others. Sighing softly, the armor clad lieutenant tried to push the depressing thoughts from his mind, comforted only by his father's adamant promise to find a cure for their aging. Jaing had no doubt that he would, with Mereel's expert data slicing and ripping, the help of a certain Dr. Uthan, and Jaing and his brother's super intelligence. He wondered if he should ever tell Amala about it, but figured it was a topic best left un-broached for now; she'd find out eventually, and he knew she wouldn't be happy about it.
As Jaing was led into the house, he had a very distinct feeling of cleanliness. Everything seemed to be in order. All the trinkets and knick-knacks had their own place, and he was surprised to see how immaculate Amala kept her house. He gazed about the small parlor, his eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the dim light she’d turned on. Jaing’s eyes landed on each piece of furniture, each plant, each trinket, watching them closely as if they'd come to life, and memorizing every little detail. These were the things that made Amala who she was. Jaing wanted to remember them, so he could replace them for her one day. When she spoke, he was staring at a small snow globe encased in glass, entranced by the tiny shapes inside. He was pulled back to her when she encircled an arm around his waist, something that slightly surprised him, but that comforted him nonetheless.
“Okay, Am’ika,” he said at last, and circled his arms loosely about her waist, letting her know that if she felt the need to pull away, he would not stop her. He didn’t want her to feel trapped, in any sense of the word. “I won’t leave you alone here...Ever. Ori'haat. You have my word.” He paused quietly, his eyes looking past her and into the wall. “And I’ll replace all of your things for you one day...I promise. It may not be the same, but one day, you’ll have a new house, with new things, and you’ll be much happier there. And so will I.” Jaing tilted his head, and brought his gaze back down to her face, smiling thoughtfully. “Some first date...” he said at last. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you to a restaurant or anything...I'm not good at things like this...Er, well...I could always cook dinner for you, if you like?” he offered hopefully. “I’ve actually become quite a cook in my time,” he chuckled softly, and nodded resolutely.
“I could make you a nice dinner. While you need to change. I bet those clothes are freezing! And I don't want you getting sick. That would definitely be unpleasant.” He spun her about lightly, and tapped her shoulder. “I can get started on dinner, if you like...” Then he seemed to think of something else, and paused. “Or...We could go somewhere to eat? Either way, you need to eat something.”
[20]
((Hehe..Cooking. I can see him wearing an apron. But I don't think he'd go that far. XD))
Already, a tad bit of gray was appearing at his temples, a trait all Clones seemed to share at this age (He attributed it to a high stress, high risk lifestyle); something that greatly disturbed his father Kal. But all his brothers seemed to be getting that as well. The Nulls were older than most Clones, so they seemed to always have less time than the others. Sighing softly, the armor clad lieutenant tried to push the depressing thoughts from his mind, comforted only by his father's adamant promise to find a cure for their aging. Jaing had no doubt that he would, with Mereel's expert data slicing and ripping, the help of a certain Dr. Uthan, and Jaing and his brother's super intelligence. He wondered if he should ever tell Amala about it, but figured it was a topic best left un-broached for now; she'd find out eventually, and he knew she wouldn't be happy about it.
As Jaing was led into the house, he had a very distinct feeling of cleanliness. Everything seemed to be in order. All the trinkets and knick-knacks had their own place, and he was surprised to see how immaculate Amala kept her house. He gazed about the small parlor, his eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the dim light she’d turned on. Jaing’s eyes landed on each piece of furniture, each plant, each trinket, watching them closely as if they'd come to life, and memorizing every little detail. These were the things that made Amala who she was. Jaing wanted to remember them, so he could replace them for her one day. When she spoke, he was staring at a small snow globe encased in glass, entranced by the tiny shapes inside. He was pulled back to her when she encircled an arm around his waist, something that slightly surprised him, but that comforted him nonetheless.
“Okay, Am’ika,” he said at last, and circled his arms loosely about her waist, letting her know that if she felt the need to pull away, he would not stop her. He didn’t want her to feel trapped, in any sense of the word. “I won’t leave you alone here...Ever. Ori'haat. You have my word.” He paused quietly, his eyes looking past her and into the wall. “And I’ll replace all of your things for you one day...I promise. It may not be the same, but one day, you’ll have a new house, with new things, and you’ll be much happier there. And so will I.” Jaing tilted his head, and brought his gaze back down to her face, smiling thoughtfully. “Some first date...” he said at last. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you to a restaurant or anything...I'm not good at things like this...Er, well...I could always cook dinner for you, if you like?” he offered hopefully. “I’ve actually become quite a cook in my time,” he chuckled softly, and nodded resolutely.
“I could make you a nice dinner. While you need to change. I bet those clothes are freezing! And I don't want you getting sick. That would definitely be unpleasant.” He spun her about lightly, and tapped her shoulder. “I can get started on dinner, if you like...” Then he seemed to think of something else, and paused. “Or...We could go somewhere to eat? Either way, you need to eat something.”
[20]
((Hehe..Cooking. I can see him wearing an apron. But I don't think he'd go that far. XD))
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
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MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/02/2009 10:13 PM
Amala was unaware of the turmoil that had hit Jaing when he saw the neighbors children. She was equally unaware of the fact that he was much younger than he appeared. Those things had yet to cross her mind and unless brought up, they probably never would for a few years down the road. In the end it would come down to needing some length of time where she would actually notice age taking Jaing more quickly than herself. The slight grey in his hair hadn’t bothered her either—if anything else, coupled with his armor it made him look more distinguished.
She just held onto the man before her, feeling now the grip of the chill that rested against her legs. The bottom of her dress up to her mid-thighs was soaking wet and decidedly freezing. She nodded, smiling up at him and she back away only slightly so she didn’t have to crane her neck straight up.
“This is…possibly the best first date I’ve been on. I’m glad I didn’t find another average guy tonight.” Her face had brightened considerably at the mention that he cooked. “Really? Well I’d love to sample some of your handy work. My kitchen is at your disposal.”
With a slight shiver she pulled away from him slowly and taking a few steps back both to open the doorway for him to get through and to give herself room to untie the muddled ribbons around her ankles that somehow secured her shoes. Once they were off and her feet were on the cold floor, she was quick to gather her dress in one hand to keep it from dragging on the carpet and hurry herself towards the stairs.
“Oh, right. Um, pans are under the oven, utensils are in the drawer to the left of the sink and mixing bowls are beside the dishwasher.” She chimed. She felt…very alive in this moment. She’d honestly never had anyone but the neighbors over in her home—certainly never a man. Or one who cooked. She was almost beside herself with this renewed vigor. “I’ll be right back down.”
Up the stairs and a sharp right landed Amala in her room. There was a surprising change here from the pristine downstairs. It wasn’t messy, oh no, but it looked lived in. The bed was hastily made and her pajamas from the morning had not quite made it into the laundry basket yet. She remedied that problem as she passed, slipping into her large closet before closing the door.
Several minutes later…
Amala came back down the stairs. She looked rather refreshed—having stripped the makeup off her face and changed into a pair of soft looking jeans and a simple white t-shirt with an elaborate teal and black design that centered on her right shoulder and spread a good distance out. A pair of rather fuzzy looking socks were on her feet now as well—black ones.
She placed herself on one of the two stools at the small island in her kitchen, smiling pleasantly. Best of all, though she had been in the bathroom to deal with her makeup, she hadn’t touched any of the medication found there. It was liberating, actually. “So, what will it be tonight, Chef?” She asked in a rather playful tone. Her home was most certainly where Amala came into her own element.
[20]
(Aw, so sad to think this is probably my last post here for a little while. D8 )
She just held onto the man before her, feeling now the grip of the chill that rested against her legs. The bottom of her dress up to her mid-thighs was soaking wet and decidedly freezing. She nodded, smiling up at him and she back away only slightly so she didn’t have to crane her neck straight up.
“This is…possibly the best first date I’ve been on. I’m glad I didn’t find another average guy tonight.” Her face had brightened considerably at the mention that he cooked. “Really? Well I’d love to sample some of your handy work. My kitchen is at your disposal.”
With a slight shiver she pulled away from him slowly and taking a few steps back both to open the doorway for him to get through and to give herself room to untie the muddled ribbons around her ankles that somehow secured her shoes. Once they were off and her feet were on the cold floor, she was quick to gather her dress in one hand to keep it from dragging on the carpet and hurry herself towards the stairs.
“Oh, right. Um, pans are under the oven, utensils are in the drawer to the left of the sink and mixing bowls are beside the dishwasher.” She chimed. She felt…very alive in this moment. She’d honestly never had anyone but the neighbors over in her home—certainly never a man. Or one who cooked. She was almost beside herself with this renewed vigor. “I’ll be right back down.”
Up the stairs and a sharp right landed Amala in her room. There was a surprising change here from the pristine downstairs. It wasn’t messy, oh no, but it looked lived in. The bed was hastily made and her pajamas from the morning had not quite made it into the laundry basket yet. She remedied that problem as she passed, slipping into her large closet before closing the door.
Several minutes later…
Amala came back down the stairs. She looked rather refreshed—having stripped the makeup off her face and changed into a pair of soft looking jeans and a simple white t-shirt with an elaborate teal and black design that centered on her right shoulder and spread a good distance out. A pair of rather fuzzy looking socks were on her feet now as well—black ones.
She placed herself on one of the two stools at the small island in her kitchen, smiling pleasantly. Best of all, though she had been in the bathroom to deal with her makeup, she hadn’t touched any of the medication found there. It was liberating, actually. “So, what will it be tonight, Chef?” She asked in a rather playful tone. Her home was most certainly where Amala came into her own element.
[20]
(Aw, so sad to think this is probably my last post here for a little while. D8 )
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/08/2009 11:07 PM
Jaing just smiled after Amala, standing silently in the middle of her parlor with his head tilted to the side. He found the entire day's events completely odd. He'd pretty much dropped everything for the first woman who seemed to need him. And it wasn't just because she was beautiful; Jaing saw her for who she was, not who she tried to be. He was silently amazed that this had all happened so fast. But then, Sergeant Vau always said he and his brothers had a bad habit of 'dropping their plates for the first pretty face that smiles their way.' Apparently, the old chakaar was right. Jaing folded his arms slightly as he thought about what Amala had said. He knew he wasn't good with the whole 'social scene' as Mereel called it, and he'd probably made a ton of blunders that weren't acceptable in 'normal society.' But honestly, he didn't care.
He was here, at Amala's house, with her, and he could already see a plausible future forming in his head. Was that wrong? Was it bad to ask her to relocate just for him? To leave everything behind and forget her old life? Jaing would have to consult Kal'buir. His father would know what to say about a situation like this. Tilting his head slightly, Jaing turned on his heel and immediately began grabbing pans from the cupboard Amala had indicated. Having the ability to switch from one topic to another, even if it was only in his head at the time, was very handy. It let him think about the things at hand, rather than the things that would come. Even though he had a knot of guilt in his gut at making Amala leave her home, he felt it was for the best, if they truly wanted to be together. He couldn’t keep her safe if she was here alone, and he didn’t know when the next time he’d see her would be. If she was with him all the time they could spend lots of time together, and see one another everyday. A simple solution.
Jaing blinked, and instantly went down another train of thought. What to make for dinner. He scratched his chin, and sighed. “Shab, I need a shave,” he muttered as he stared at the refrigerator. Opening it, he began to pull a few things out. There was enough food to make a salad and some fried chicken. An easy enough meal. And simple enough to pull off. He glanced at the door Amala had disappeared to, and decided dinner could wait a moment. He needed to get his armor off and let it dry. His bodysuit would be enough to keep him warm for the time being, and it covered him nearly from head to toe. With careful practiced precision, he began removing the plates of his armor, stacking them carefully on the kitchen cabinet. As Amala returned to the room, Jaing had just finished laying out his kama over the back of a chair to dry, and was currently pouring oil into the pan for the chicken. He stood staring at her in his black bodysuit, a wry smile on his face.
“Tonight,” Jaing said as she came back in, looking over his shoulder with a smile. “You let me worry about cooking.” He seemed completely at ease as he threw flour over the chicken breasts and let them sizzle in the pan until they were cooked. When they were done, he set them on a plate beside the stove, and went about fixing the salad. He opened the dishwasher and pulled out a pair of bowls and two plates, setting them on the counter. He tossed a bit of salad into the bowls, and placed two pieces of chicken on each plate, before setting one down in front of Amala. “What kind of dressing might you like?” he asked, blinking slowly at her from across the table. He seemed to be able to do just about anything in a very short amount of time. Fixing dinner had taken him nearly twenty minutes, and he didn’t seem phased by having to cook a meal for them at all; it was as if he did this everyday.
As he grabbed a fork, he paused, and glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking...” he began slowly, turning back to stare into the silverware drawer. “About your relocation...It’s not going to be fun, Amala. If you stay with me at the barracks, you’ll probably be in the room all the time. You’ll need to stay out of sight...If any of the mongrels catch you...There will be severe consequences.” Should he tell her they’d probably execute him? ‘Reconditioned’ they liked to call it. No Clone should be such a free thinker, with a life of his own. This was dangerous, and risky, to not only Jaing, but her as well. “Maybe you could stay with Kal’buir. He’s my father,” he said at last. “He’d take good care of you...”
[21]
((Short...XD I've lost me mojo...Can't quite type right. It feels like it rambled a lot.))
He was here, at Amala's house, with her, and he could already see a plausible future forming in his head. Was that wrong? Was it bad to ask her to relocate just for him? To leave everything behind and forget her old life? Jaing would have to consult Kal'buir. His father would know what to say about a situation like this. Tilting his head slightly, Jaing turned on his heel and immediately began grabbing pans from the cupboard Amala had indicated. Having the ability to switch from one topic to another, even if it was only in his head at the time, was very handy. It let him think about the things at hand, rather than the things that would come. Even though he had a knot of guilt in his gut at making Amala leave her home, he felt it was for the best, if they truly wanted to be together. He couldn’t keep her safe if she was here alone, and he didn’t know when the next time he’d see her would be. If she was with him all the time they could spend lots of time together, and see one another everyday. A simple solution.
Jaing blinked, and instantly went down another train of thought. What to make for dinner. He scratched his chin, and sighed. “Shab, I need a shave,” he muttered as he stared at the refrigerator. Opening it, he began to pull a few things out. There was enough food to make a salad and some fried chicken. An easy enough meal. And simple enough to pull off. He glanced at the door Amala had disappeared to, and decided dinner could wait a moment. He needed to get his armor off and let it dry. His bodysuit would be enough to keep him warm for the time being, and it covered him nearly from head to toe. With careful practiced precision, he began removing the plates of his armor, stacking them carefully on the kitchen cabinet. As Amala returned to the room, Jaing had just finished laying out his kama over the back of a chair to dry, and was currently pouring oil into the pan for the chicken. He stood staring at her in his black bodysuit, a wry smile on his face.
“Tonight,” Jaing said as she came back in, looking over his shoulder with a smile. “You let me worry about cooking.” He seemed completely at ease as he threw flour over the chicken breasts and let them sizzle in the pan until they were cooked. When they were done, he set them on a plate beside the stove, and went about fixing the salad. He opened the dishwasher and pulled out a pair of bowls and two plates, setting them on the counter. He tossed a bit of salad into the bowls, and placed two pieces of chicken on each plate, before setting one down in front of Amala. “What kind of dressing might you like?” he asked, blinking slowly at her from across the table. He seemed to be able to do just about anything in a very short amount of time. Fixing dinner had taken him nearly twenty minutes, and he didn’t seem phased by having to cook a meal for them at all; it was as if he did this everyday.
As he grabbed a fork, he paused, and glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking...” he began slowly, turning back to stare into the silverware drawer. “About your relocation...It’s not going to be fun, Amala. If you stay with me at the barracks, you’ll probably be in the room all the time. You’ll need to stay out of sight...If any of the mongrels catch you...There will be severe consequences.” Should he tell her they’d probably execute him? ‘Reconditioned’ they liked to call it. No Clone should be such a free thinker, with a life of his own. This was dangerous, and risky, to not only Jaing, but her as well. “Maybe you could stay with Kal’buir. He’s my father,” he said at last. “He’d take good care of you...”
[21]
((Short...XD I've lost me mojo...Can't quite type right. It feels like it rambled a lot.))
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
+Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+
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MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/09/2009 11:10 AM
Amala couldn’t help but to smile at Jaing—the first time seeing him out of armor. Her mind was trying to focus on just how many pieces of it were now scattered around the kitchen, not having realized it came in so many part. However, Amala was finding even that thought was hard to concentrate on—Jaing’s physique made things very distracting. He was, she reminded herself, the first man (the first date, if she dared think of it that way) that had ever come into her home. That fact in mind, there had certainly never been anyone here to strip down in any sense of the phrase. She felt her face flush and moved to hold her head in her hands to try to hide it, pretending to watch him finish dinner preparations.
It was equally hard to sit still in ones own kitchen and let someone else do the work. Many times Amala flinched as if to stand up and offer assistance, and each time Jaing had already beaten her there. He certainly was a quick learner from the rushed layout she had given him. She supposed his lifestyle required it.
“Oh, um…Ranch is fine with me.” She was about to tell him where to find it, but something in the back of her mind told her he already knew exactly where it was. In the blink of an eye, food was sitting before her and it smelled wonderful. Amala smiled at him thankfully.
Amala’s smile faltered, however, at what sounded like uncertainty in Jaing’s voice. This whole evening he had been so sure of ever decision that he had made…but now something seemed different. Was it that he felt far enough away from listening ears to talk about things? The rest of his speech answered her question and she sat back in her chair.
So, she thought to herself, that’s it.
Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth she bit down on it thoughtfully. She could either stow away in an army and risk both of their lives….or she could stay here, hope for the best, and undoubtedly risk her own again eventually. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to make either choice and have it work. For Jaing to think about it and talk in such dark tones….was he regretting that he’d asked her at all? The thought of moving even farther away to live with anyone else—even Jaing’s father—scared her to no end.
“Maybe we can work to that point…if you’re sure you still want me to come with you.” Her eyes were cast down, staring at the food he had prepared. She feared his answer to be a withdrawl of his decision…that she would remain here and have to pretend this was all a fantasy—a dream she’d have to wake up from.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to stay with you, if you want me to. Life now isn't fun...at least with you I'd have something to look forward to at the end of the day.” There was a frightening, bleak tone to the statement. Amala closed her eyes for a moment, hoping when she opened them all this wouldn't be gone.
[21]
(( Oh no, not mojo loss! But don't worry, you didn't ramble. A few posts and I'm sure your Jaing mojo will return ;3 ))
It was equally hard to sit still in ones own kitchen and let someone else do the work. Many times Amala flinched as if to stand up and offer assistance, and each time Jaing had already beaten her there. He certainly was a quick learner from the rushed layout she had given him. She supposed his lifestyle required it.
“Oh, um…Ranch is fine with me.” She was about to tell him where to find it, but something in the back of her mind told her he already knew exactly where it was. In the blink of an eye, food was sitting before her and it smelled wonderful. Amala smiled at him thankfully.
Amala’s smile faltered, however, at what sounded like uncertainty in Jaing’s voice. This whole evening he had been so sure of ever decision that he had made…but now something seemed different. Was it that he felt far enough away from listening ears to talk about things? The rest of his speech answered her question and she sat back in her chair.
So, she thought to herself, that’s it.
Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth she bit down on it thoughtfully. She could either stow away in an army and risk both of their lives….or she could stay here, hope for the best, and undoubtedly risk her own again eventually. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to make either choice and have it work. For Jaing to think about it and talk in such dark tones….was he regretting that he’d asked her at all? The thought of moving even farther away to live with anyone else—even Jaing’s father—scared her to no end.
“Maybe we can work to that point…if you’re sure you still want me to come with you.” Her eyes were cast down, staring at the food he had prepared. She feared his answer to be a withdrawl of his decision…that she would remain here and have to pretend this was all a fantasy—a dream she’d have to wake up from.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to stay with you, if you want me to. Life now isn't fun...at least with you I'd have something to look forward to at the end of the day.” There was a frightening, bleak tone to the statement. Amala closed her eyes for a moment, hoping when she opened them all this wouldn't be gone.
[21]
(( Oh no, not mojo loss! But don't worry, you didn't ramble. A few posts and I'm sure your Jaing mojo will return ;3 ))
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/09/2009 5:05 PM
Jaing laid his hands flat on the counter, leaning forward slightly as he stared at the two forks he’d set there only a second ago. He could hear the bleak panic in Amala’s voice; she thought he was going to take back everything he said. Jaing closed his eyes as silence descended on the pair. He wasn’t taking back his decisions; he didn’t think he could ever do something like that. He was just worried. Mostly, it was for Amala. He knew he could take care of himself, and he could handle anything the Grand Army could throw his way. But Amala wasn’t a solider; she wasn’t a fighter, and she couldn’t even protect herself if she wanted to. If someone went after her, with the intent to kill, she’d be dead. And that was something Jaing couldn’t stand; he didn’t think he’d be able to carry on after that.
He let out a long sigh, before pushing himself away from the counter and taking Amala her fork. He didn’t say a word as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the dressing, setting it between them in silence. As he sat down opposite of Amala, he finally lifted his gaze to hers, and tilted his head as if he was deep in thought. His eyes seemed somewhat distant; he was running through all the possible outcomes and scenarios of what could happen if Amala came with him. “I do still want you to come with me. That’ll never change.” Silently, he seemed to completely switch topics, and began to dig into his food. Clones were always hungry. It was probably the advanced aging and the fact that they had a quick metabolism. They needed to fuel all that growth one way or another.
Jaing chewed thoughtfully, a small smile on his face. As he swallowed, he seemed to realize he’d forgotten drinks, and stood up to hunt for glasses. After he finally found them in one of the cupboards, he filled both with cold water, and set them back in front of them. The silence was nearly deafening, but it didn’t seem to bother Jaing. “I know,” he said at last, though he didn’t specify what he was talking about. “I do want you to. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. If you still want to come with me...Then I can take you to the barracks. But...Well, I hope you like dry, tasteless food.” He quirked a smile. “Because that’s pretty much all we get.” He took another bite of the chicken, seemingly perfectly at ease around her.
“By the way,” he said, changing the subject completely. “That shirt really suits you, cyar'ika. Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” He turned his attention back to his food, a small smile on his face.
[22]
((This post I like...Mostly 'cause it shows how quickly Nulls can switch subjects. XD))
He let out a long sigh, before pushing himself away from the counter and taking Amala her fork. He didn’t say a word as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the dressing, setting it between them in silence. As he sat down opposite of Amala, he finally lifted his gaze to hers, and tilted his head as if he was deep in thought. His eyes seemed somewhat distant; he was running through all the possible outcomes and scenarios of what could happen if Amala came with him. “I do still want you to come with me. That’ll never change.” Silently, he seemed to completely switch topics, and began to dig into his food. Clones were always hungry. It was probably the advanced aging and the fact that they had a quick metabolism. They needed to fuel all that growth one way or another.
Jaing chewed thoughtfully, a small smile on his face. As he swallowed, he seemed to realize he’d forgotten drinks, and stood up to hunt for glasses. After he finally found them in one of the cupboards, he filled both with cold water, and set them back in front of them. The silence was nearly deafening, but it didn’t seem to bother Jaing. “I know,” he said at last, though he didn’t specify what he was talking about. “I do want you to. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. If you still want to come with me...Then I can take you to the barracks. But...Well, I hope you like dry, tasteless food.” He quirked a smile. “Because that’s pretty much all we get.” He took another bite of the chicken, seemingly perfectly at ease around her.
“By the way,” he said, changing the subject completely. “That shirt really suits you, cyar'ika. Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” He turned his attention back to his food, a small smile on his face.
[22]
((This post I like...Mostly 'cause it shows how quickly Nulls can switch subjects. XD))
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
+Imp. Documents+ +Menagerie+ +Wishlist+ +Journal+
-
MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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- Keystones: 10
- Donate
- Joined: 01/28/2008 12:09 AM
- Location: My legend began in the twelfth-century...FOOLS!
- Status: Working on my stupid novel and I hate it
Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by Kallile » 08/09/2009 5:56 PM
Amala was painfully aware that she would be a liability to him should the base ever be compromised. The best defenses she had were hiding and somehow managing to not completely panic under pressure. She worked at a firm, after all. There was nothing more panic ensuing than loosing (and having to somehow retrieve) all the years work you had done in a system change. That was panic. And when she couldn’t hide behind the effects of drink and pills—she often hid for real to escape for a few moments.
She gave him a small smile, trying not to let the quiet bother her. Had they reached that fabled ‘awkward stage’ already? She hoped it was only the topic that held both their tongues at bay for a minute. Taking the water he offered her and a bite of her own chicken, she nodded to him. She might as well learn to start being tough and composed now.
“I’ll come with you and learn whatever I need to. For both our sakes.”
The chicken nearly melted on her tongue, and with his last statement she decided to savor it while she could. Or learn very quickly how to make the meals more interesting. She was smiling more brightly now, outwardly amused by the idea. She had spent 24 years of her life in misery being someone she wasn’t sure of or even proud of. She’d take this chance for all it was worth—with someone who was worth it—no matter what she had to endure.
Her face suddenly flushed a dark rosy pink and she rose her hand politely to her mouth to finish chewing. Her face suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer and she nervously took a drink of the cool water to try and quell the feeling. “Not for wearing these old things, no.”
She finally managed after several second. She seemed to bounce back quickly though, reaching out to playfully lay her fingers across Jaing’s free hand. “You don’t look so bad yourself when you're out of that dashing armor…Lieutenant.” She replied coyly, smiling broadly to him.
[22]
She gave him a small smile, trying not to let the quiet bother her. Had they reached that fabled ‘awkward stage’ already? She hoped it was only the topic that held both their tongues at bay for a minute. Taking the water he offered her and a bite of her own chicken, she nodded to him. She might as well learn to start being tough and composed now.
“I’ll come with you and learn whatever I need to. For both our sakes.”
The chicken nearly melted on her tongue, and with his last statement she decided to savor it while she could. Or learn very quickly how to make the meals more interesting. She was smiling more brightly now, outwardly amused by the idea. She had spent 24 years of her life in misery being someone she wasn’t sure of or even proud of. She’d take this chance for all it was worth—with someone who was worth it—no matter what she had to endure.
Her face suddenly flushed a dark rosy pink and she rose her hand politely to her mouth to finish chewing. Her face suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer and she nervously took a drink of the cool water to try and quell the feeling. “Not for wearing these old things, no.”
She finally managed after several second. She seemed to bounce back quickly though, reaching out to playfully lay her fingers across Jaing’s free hand. “You don’t look so bad yourself when you're out of that dashing armor…Lieutenant.” She replied coyly, smiling broadly to him.
[22]
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."-
Kallile - Ultimate Specialist
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Re: Why Me? (Kal and Me, P)
by MillietheWarrior » 08/09/2009 8:53 PM
Jaing concentrated on his meal, his heart feeling lighter than it ever had. He was well on his way to having a real life, like his brothers Mereel and Ordo. Was this what it was like for them? When they spent time with the women they cared about, were they always this happy? He wondered if Besany ever had second thoughts about Ordo, or vice versa. he doubted it; those two were a strong couple. He glanced across at Amala; she and Jaing would be the same way. Jaing was certain that she would be able to learn to defend herself and take care of herself as long as he taught her properly. Maybe a time would come when he wouldn’t have to worry about her getting hurt. Once they moved to Manda’yaim, Amala would be much happier. She’d be able to stay put, and to have a real home, and a real family.
Jaing sighed in the back of his mind, and turned his attention back to the chicken. He glanced back up at her, setting down his fork as he finished his meal. Outside, the rain had started up again, and the pitter-patter of the raindrops on the glass pane caught his attention for a brief second. He stared out the window across the way, before his gaze rested on Amala. “Well they should...Although I don’t think I’m comfortable with anyone else telling you that, now.” He chuckled softly, knowing that he’d probably have a hard time tolerating any male besides his brothers being anywhere near Amala. He drew his head back, and grinned at her. “Well, this would be the first time anyone has told me that. I’m not out of armor often.”
He blinked at how odd that sounded, and then laughed, his face turning slightly pink with embarrassment; he wasn’t used to compliments of that nature. “Amala...” He paused, leaning forward until they‘re faces were only a few inches apart. It almost seemed like he was going to kiss her, when he suddenly spouted out a question. “When do you want to go to the barracks? We can move your few belongings there whenever you like.” He didn’t seem to realize how close they actually were; Jaing wasn’t the type that cared about proximity. And besides, his social graces were less than outstanding. He just seemed to consistently return to the same train of thought, no matter how much his mind wandered.
[23]
Jaing sighed in the back of his mind, and turned his attention back to the chicken. He glanced back up at her, setting down his fork as he finished his meal. Outside, the rain had started up again, and the pitter-patter of the raindrops on the glass pane caught his attention for a brief second. He stared out the window across the way, before his gaze rested on Amala. “Well they should...Although I don’t think I’m comfortable with anyone else telling you that, now.” He chuckled softly, knowing that he’d probably have a hard time tolerating any male besides his brothers being anywhere near Amala. He drew his head back, and grinned at her. “Well, this would be the first time anyone has told me that. I’m not out of armor often.”
He blinked at how odd that sounded, and then laughed, his face turning slightly pink with embarrassment; he wasn’t used to compliments of that nature. “Amala...” He paused, leaning forward until they‘re faces were only a few inches apart. It almost seemed like he was going to kiss her, when he suddenly spouted out a question. “When do you want to go to the barracks? We can move your few belongings there whenever you like.” He didn’t seem to realize how close they actually were; Jaing wasn’t the type that cared about proximity. And besides, his social graces were less than outstanding. He just seemed to consistently return to the same train of thought, no matter how much his mind wandered.
[23]
I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!
A great adventure!
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MillietheWarrior - Globetrotter
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