all aboard the ss blamless

[pyroelectric]

Who: Crew of the SS Blameless and visitors.
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Blameless
When: March, or until we feel like a new one.

[It's a mingle! Get out of the car!

Unique ship notes for new crew and visitors: giant, unmissable scorch marks currently line the walls of several corridors leading from the cargo hold to the bridge!

Also, thanks to Kate, we now have a SWEARS AND ATTITUDES JAR displayed prominently in the kitchen. Whenever someone's being naughty instead of nice, they're compelled to deposit a few credits (or at least an iou) into the awaiting jar.

Also also, we are all still bunking together. HAVE FUN.]

Comments

[t65]

[A talented, highly skilled Jedi master could know this was coming. A proper Jedi could wave it away with the warning Ciri gives. Luke is neither of those things. He feels a vague tingling-- warning-- from the Force, turns his head a quarter of an inch to look for the source, and-]

[The rock hits him squarely in the eye.] Ow! [He whines. Clutching his eye, he picks up the offending rock.] What was that for?

[percolates]

[That did not go as planned. Ciri stares, green eyes wide, a hand coming up to touch her mouth. Oops.]

You were supposed to stop it! Make it levitate, like the pen! [This is his error. Definitely. Still, Ciri hurries over to make sure his eye is still where it's supposed to be.] Are you all right? Here, let me see it--

[t65]

[Luke, whiny baby that he is, can't help but laugh at the idea of Ciri testing him.] This is what I get for bragging over the network.

[He lets go of the rock, and it floats into Ciri's outstretched hand.] You have to concentrate to use the Force. [At least, he does. Shh. He moves his other hand away from his eye; it's twitching and pink, going to be bright purple in an hour, but otherwise fine.]

[percolates]

[She pockets the rock, far more concerned about his eye and making a mental note to not do that again.]

Ah, it's still there. My aim is a little too impeccable, unfortunately.

[Ciri manages to look like a scolded dog, eyes apologetic and shoulders hunched.]

I'm sorry.

[t65]

[Oh no sad girls, Luke doesn't know what to do with sad girls.] It's fine! Really. You mostly bruised my pride. I really will have to beat you in that race, now.

[percolates]

Assuming you've the depth perception.

[Bad joke, Ciri. Bad joke.]

[t65]

Wh- [And then he gets it, and he laughs.] It'll take more than that to knock my eye out. Next time, you'll have to use a sharper rock.

[worse joke]

[percolates]

That's terrible! Don't even joke about that. You're lucky I'm not foolish enough to throw knives at people.

[That would have ended so, so, so badly.]

[t65]

It's my eye, I won't offend myself. [And so the second attempt to cheer up Sad Girl ends in awkward failure. Maybe if...] But... let's go to the medical bay, alright?

[He takes a few steps, but, of course, he can't stop himself from asking:] Do you usually throw knives?

[percolates]

... sometimes? When I'm bored. But I've no knives on me.

[Usually she's sad about that, but in this case she can't be upset.]

[t65]

You ride horses and throw knives and rocks. Is there anything else I should know? For my own personal safety, I mean. [We're joking about this, this is happening.]

[percolates]

Is that a serious question? [She's certainly sounding a little more serious herself.]

[t65]

No? [Despite the throbbing eye, Luke goes for his best bright, warmly reassuring smile.] I promise you, Ciri, I'm not angry. This is my fault as much as yours.

[percolates]

[It helps. She likes Luke. It'd be a shame to ruin their friendship so soon, and... like this.]

It really isn't, but I'm glad you're not mad. I will make this up to you.

[t65]

You don't have to, really. [He puts his hand on her shoulder.] It was an honest mistake. One I should have picked up on. I felt something through the Force, but I wasn't fast enough.

w o w

[percolates]

[That does get a small smile out of her.]

Maybe we'll have to help you to be quicker. Just... with softer objects.

[t65]

[He quirks his brow.] Are you offering to help me train?

[percolates]

If you'd like. [She could use it.] Do you have training partners?

[t65]

[Luke knows Ahsoka and Ben would train with him if he asked. But they're Jedi of the Old Order, and he's a little... reticent to see how poorly his skill matches up to theirs, and see the disappointment on their faces. He smiles at Ciri with a not insubstantial amount of excitement.]

That depends... how are you with a sword?

[percolates]

[Excitement? Excitement is all over her face.]

I'm excellent with a sword. Trained by the best.

[t65]

[So Luke's expression moves to match Ciri's... minus the still partially closed eye.] We'll have to spar! You can show me what you know. [And Luke can hold on for dear life.]

[percolates]

Most definitely! [There's a little bounce as she speaks. Then, she frowns.] Well, once you're healed. It wouldn't be fair for us to spar with you at a greater disadvantage than you'll already have.

[Her lips quirk. She's confident.]

[t65]

Oh, really? [But he's clearly enjoying her confidence.] I think our first test will be finding swords. I've never fought with a...

[He turns to Ciri. If her planet doesn't have spaceflight...] Do you use metal swords?

[percolates]

Yes? [What sort of question is that!] But I've only seen wooden training swords, here. All the better I suppose. Wouldn't want you losing any fingers.

[t65]

[Luke laughs softly.] I've already lost five. [He waves his right hand in front of her. It's functionally identical to a flesh-and-blood hand, but he assumes she saw his initial broadcast, where it very much wasn't.] I'm used to training with lightsabers; metal might be... interesting. [It seems heavy.]