A Weightless Conversation (Aay’han Ahi, Xenku Ral, Broccoli Rob, SWG)
(Written by a good friend, Orange Bagel aka Oranbega and I. Reposted with permissions.)
The mucus-petina’d body of Xenku Ral rose from the edge of the river bank–body brazen and toned around his loin cloth, besmirched only by the soil smeared about his torso from the afternoon’s task. He carried in a suction-cupped hand a river phraple, snapped at the neck, as he stepped strong and purposefully up the bank gazing out toward Crusher’s Junction. Tossing a sack of supplies over his shoulder he slowly made his way back toward the junkyard, casting glances to and fro an the fall foliage that surrounded him.
Arriving at the doorstep of his home he keyed the door command and watched as the warm sun-beaten durasteel slid away for the the climate controlled interior to welcome him with a breath of cool air. Stepping inside and around the corner he entered the main room, setting the duck down on the counter and running a suction-cupped hand through his frills. He looked over at her.
She was a picture of radiance, untouched by the trials of the Galaxy and looked to her beloved with a smile that could only encompass the radiance of the sun. “You’ve brought me a fine catch.” She said, her voice a tone of melodic song as she swayed to the Rodian, running her long fingers through his frills before taking his well earned catch. “I shall have to properly thank you.”
“Oy, whut is ‘dat to be to entailink? ‘Joo are to be to speakink figurink again–‘deh Xenku is to be to ‘ate ‘dat. Say whut ‘joo mean.” He crosses his arms, rubbing at his bicep with his hand crooning his neck up at her smirking slyly, “Or just be to do whut ‘joo mean.” His sensors prune down toward his head.
Her gracefully tapared fingers purposefully wrapped around the tips of his sensors and she slowly brought each to her lips. Her tongue flicked over them before she smiled down at him and settled onto her knees to meet his height. Her desire was obvious in the gleam of her eyes; a message that was delivered easily by the encouraging kisses along his snout. She didn’t seem to mind the mucus.
Broccoli Rob sets back in his chair and leans his hands behind his head as he looks at the terminal with an expression of satisfaction on his face. He looks around and reaches down to unfasten the button on his pants before he stops quickly and spins around at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Oh, heya doc. Check ‘dis out. Tryin’ my ‘and at little bit’a holonet fan fiction, ya know? Tell me whatcha think.” He gestures toward the terminal screen.
Aay’han raised an eyebrow from under her buc’ye and set her hands on Broccoli Rob’s shoulders as she leaned over him to read what was on the screen. Her grip tightened on his shoulders when she noticed the state of his pants. Her face remained stoic, even under the cold iron of the beskar that protected her expression, as she reached the end of the story, her hand slipped from his shoulder to unholster her pistol at her thigh. “Very good, Broccoli Rob. You’ve proven just how useless you are.” She droned before raising her pistol and pushing it against the back of his head before pulling the trigger.
She deleted the story before walking away.