Day 27: Meeting Someone Important To Them For The First Time

Day 27: Meeting someone important to them for the first time

The first time Max was introduced to Sam right as Sam was planning to leave for his concert

Prompt list by @icannotreadcursive

OC-Tober Day 25: Encountering a ghost

Prompt: Encountering a ghost

I used the OC-tober list made by @icannotreadcursive

Link here

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OCs: Len and Jake

Jake sighed as he sat down on the metal bench. His fists ached as he flexed his fingers. Maybe he should stop like Len wants. He slowly unwrapped his hands while the sounds of the crowd yelled outside the locker room. Once his hands were unwrapped, Jake tossed the wraps into his bag as he stood up and grabbed his towel. He moved for the communal showers, glad he chose to use the locker room everyone avoided.

Something, something, a ghost of a dead fighter.

Jake rolled his eyes before stifling a yawn. He didn’t care. He was tired of the stinkeyes he got when he used the communal showers in the other locker room. Reaching out, he turned the squeaky knob for the showers on as he walked by. Tossing the towel over the half wall, he tugged off his shorts and underwear in one go to throw them over the same wall. Jake just wanted to rinse off before heading home to Len.

Walking over to the shower, he ducked his head under the spray. The warm water washed over his skin, and he started to rub the dried blood out of the cracks of his skin. He was so focused on his task that the sound of a locker being slammed shut had him jolting in surprise. He looked over his shoulder with a frown. When nothing else happened, he turned back to his hands and started scratching at the dried blood again.

There was another sound closer to the showers, and he looked over his shoulder. Turning away from the shower spray, he called out, “Len?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he sighed as he turned the water off. 

“Len?” Jake was not going to be happy if Len was messing with him. With a frown on his face, he walked over to grab his towel. As Jake was wrapping it around his waist, he heard the squeaky knob turn back on. Jake stared at the locker area as he listened to the showers run behind him. He sucked in a breath before slowly letting it out.

Len may be a dragon, but he wasn’t capable of turning on water from another room.

Jake slowly looked over his shoulder only to find the showers empty. Walking back over, he turned the water off and made sure it couldn’t twist on because of a loose bolt or something. He had turned back to the locker area and hurried out while grabbing his clothes.

Stuffing the dirty clothes into his bag, he pulled out clean underwear, tugging it on under his towel. As he was pulling his pants on, he heard the sound of the showers turning on again. Then, the locker room door swung open. He stared at the empty doorway with wide eyes. A bang from behind him had him knocking everything into his bag and rushing out of the locker room with a shout. “I’m leaving!”

As soon as he was out in the hallway, the door swung shut, and Jake clutched his bag against his chest. He took a few steps back from the door when the sound of the lockers rattling and slamming echoed out of the room. After this, he would believe anything about the locker room ghost.

“Jake?”

He let out a scream and threw his bag at the voice.

Len caught the bag as he stared at a paler than normal Jake in surprise. “Is everything okay?”

Jake heard a loud sound from the locker room, and he stumbled away and up against Len. He started to shove at Len. “We’re leaving!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you later!”

Len stumbled down the hall, as he let the spooked Jake herd him out of the hallway into the entrance area. “At least put a shirt on.”

“Outside.” Jake looked over his shoulder back down the hall.

Len cupped the back of Jake’s head to get him to look at him. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He shivered as the cool air ran over his damp skin. “I will be. I want to go home.”

“Okay.” Len pulled a shirt out of the bag. “Put it on. You’re shivering.”

Jake snagged it and yanked it on as he headed for the door. “Home!”

“Okay. Okay.” Len looked down the hallway towards the locker room Jake came out of. He caught sight of a shadow darting along the hall, and his eyes narrowed. A low growl slipped out of him, causing the shadow to dart back down the hall. With one last growl directed at the hallway, he turned and followed after Jake. No spirit will harass his human.

Day 26: Writing a letter

Max formally telling their friend they burnt their brownies

Prompt list by @icannotreadcursive

Day 28: Taking some time to rest

Max enjoying a good book

Prompt list by @icannotreadcursive

OC-tober Day 23: Kisser enjoying a nice drink

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

Kisser sits nervously at a small table in his General’s quarters. It isn’t the first time he’s been here, not even the first time he’s sat at this table, but he can’t quite feel that it’s normal. Yet, he hopes. For all his nerves, he wants to be here.

General Kenobi sets a tea tray at the table, pouring them each a cup before he sits. It’s a pale green, with a gently floral scent.

“This is a popular blend from Naboo,” he says, a little bit of the teacher slipping into his voice. It’s good to hear. “It’s lighter than the Iridonian Jasmine we had last time, I thought it might better suit your palate.”

“I mean,” Kisser grins, lifting the warm cup gently, “hard to see how less flavor is better, but I trust you.”

“And I trust you to give your honest opinion,” General Kenobi says, with a smile of his own.

The tea is hot but not scalding, so Kisser takes a careful sip. It’s…well, it’s hot water a flower had thought about once but not actually spoken to. In the most pleasant way possible, but still.

The General is chuckling before Kisser even says anything.

“It’s better than the last one,” Kisser says diplomatically. That only seems to make it funnier, as General Kenobi descends into outright giggles. Desperately, he adds, “it’s the caf, all my tastebuds are gone, you know! I’m sure this is a really nice tea!”

“No, no,” the General waves him off, “It’s quite all right. You are far from the only person to dislike the hot leaf water.”

“I don’t dislike it!” Kisser says, taking a large flavorless sip to prove his point.

For some reason, this makes the General laugh even harder.

“Thank you for your staunch support of my vices, Kisser,” he says, unable to quite manage the somber tone he’s playing at. 

Over the rest of their conversation, Kisser loyally helps finish the pot.

~+~

Day 24

OC-tober Day 21: Kisser exploring an unfamiliar subculture

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

Under a cut due to length~ I got inspired~

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

The Aquatic District on Coruscant was not a particularly pleasant place. Despite regulations about water quality and the truly cutting edge filtration systems installed throughout its crown of all-water towers, much of the pollution sunk to the lower levels where filtration was expensive and the inhabitants poor. Coming from a predominantly oceanic world, Kisser didn’t know how Coruscant could possibly have restricted its livable waters to a single district. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like the answers.

“Keep up,” Finley scolded him  on their internal comms, pulling Kisser’s attention away from the fact that he could barely see the people around him, let alone the buildings they were swimming between. 

The bastard was keeping a SCUBA trooper’s pace, though, so Kisser snipped, “I haven’t been in a suit since Kamino, jackass.”

“Weak,” Finley teased, but he did slow down. “We’re nearly there.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Finley laughed, “They have these snail-sucker critters that they keep around the market, so the water quality’s a lot better. Might even be cleaner than the air at the one near the Temple!”

What Finley didn’t bother to mention was the waterlock that separated the market from the street–Kisser would bet that helped as much as the filter-feeders.

When the water around them had been fully cycled, the doors opened to reveal a brightly lit space both like and unlike any market Kisser had seen. It was lit from every direction with colorful bioluminescence–Kisser couldn’t tell if it was painted on or cultivated or both–and stalls were arranged according to the hollows in a massive column of coral stretching vertically in both directions. The deeper levels decreased in brightness, while the ones above seemed to have something simulating sunlight in the furthest heights–barely detectable from their current depth. Plants and filter-feeders littered every surface not dedicated to commerce, ranging wildly in size and shape. The cacophony of colors substituted for the noise Kisser usually associated with markets, as most vendors and patrons were using various dialects of Republic Basic Sign. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Finley said wistfully. “If the war ends for me, I want to get a place nearby so I can come here every day.”

Kisser simply nodded, still poleaxed by the unfamiliar beauty.

Finley quickly decided that was enough “gawking like tourists” and led Kisser through the market. They were technically there on assignment–an errand for Finley’s General, Fisto–but really it was a thinly veiled excuse to get them both out of their own heads. No use wasting shore leave thinking about their losses; they said Remembrances for that. It was an excellent distraction, and Kisser didn’t mind coming off like an idiot tourist. He was one, really.

One of the more doodads-and-trinkets style shops caught Kisser’s attention, so he swam over to it. When the shopkeeper paid him no particular mind–Finley had warned him to just leave any shop that seemed even a little hostile–he perused the half-flan bin. It was mostly a collection of flawed items: carved beads and clasps that weren’t quite up to standard, woven bracelets clearly done by a still-learning apprentice or a faulty machine, and a variety of other decorative bits and bobs.

He picked up one of the beads–a malformed little fish with luminescent stripes.

The shopkeeper came over and waved to catch his eye. “It won’t glow,” they told him. They were a slim Nautolan, reedy and animated.

“Sorry, again?” he asked, a half-step behind as he adjusted to using RBS in his suit.

They pointed up, then said, “In air, the paint can’t glow. It only glows when there’s enough water.”

“Got it, thank you,” he said, not putting the bead down just yet. “Are they all like that?”

The shopkeeper considered that for a moment, then answered by pulling out some iridescent pieces. “These are shinier when wet, but they’re still pretty dry. If I were making them for air, there’s a varnish I’d use to get the same effect.”

They chatted about materials for a while, until Finley appeared next to Kisser.

“I see you met Portia,” he signed happily. On comms, he said, “I thought you got lost. Glad you’re okay.”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Kisser spoke, even as he signed, “They were telling me about shell inlays.”

“No worries, trouble’s not subtle around here,” Finley assured him. Outwardly, he said, “Oh, they’ll go on all day if you let them.”

“You let me,” Portia said playfully.

“I have a crush on you,” Finley replied, completely blasé.

Kisser blushed, but Portia grinned toothily and said, “Careful what you wish, little fish.”

Before they left, Kisser bought the bead for Finley.

~+~

Day 22