Shadows of Bankor

Dove wiggled her bare toes as she lounged on the couch, casually strumming her guitar. After a day like today, it was about time to relax and chill a little, and beside, she and Mia would have the kid over soon for some food and talking things out.

"I hope he doesn't bring any of that twi'lek-takeout we had last time. That stuff burns twice..." she commented and played a few notes on the guitar.

Perhaps it was all due to Mia's efforts that their apartment was remarkably tidy for a slums unit. The young blonde set the table with makeshift table mats and continued to wipe down the counters. Again.

"The kid gets funny ideas. Must be due to his upbringing," Mia commented. Even though they were in the comfort of their own home, she wasn't going to be too vocal about his past...

"Yeah, probably. Not really healthy upbringing if you ask me," said the one who didn't really have any authority to make such comments. "He got a good head on his shoulders though, so I guess things could be worse? I'm pretty sure I saw worse some years ago, to be honest."

As always, they tended to kind of dance around the specifics of things when there was a chance someone might be listening, but they both knew what the other one meant. They knew eachothers' pasts. At least some of it.

A knock came from the door. It was undoubtedly Petrus' knock. A very polite knock; the knock of a Nice Young Man.

"Who's hungry?" Petrus' muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

"Oh! Me! Me!" Dove ditched the guitar and hopped to her bare feet. "Door's open, kid! Come right in."

Right, she should probably get something to drink from the fridge now that the food is here.

"To be honest, I'm only kind of hungry," Mia mentioned to Dove. It was a serious problem. Even though she wanted to gain some mass, it was difficult for her to actually eat enough to do so.

There was a brief pause, and a little grunting, but then the door opened. Petrus stepped inside, holding two bags in one hand. He paused a moment, smiling, before he nudged the door closed again.

He was dressed as he usually was, in simple brown shirt and pants, but a silken red scarf complimented the simple clothing quite nicely.

"Here we go! Spiced noodles, courtesy of Big Sleemo's Diner." He raised the bags, giving them a shake. Familiar with the layout of the apartment, he placed the bags on the table.

"Hey Dove, didn't you tell the kid to try to add a little more color to his outfit?" Mia asked over her shoulder. Soon after, she finished with her cleaning and offered to envelop the 'kid' in the gesture known as a hug. Her oversized coat, for the time being, was on the rack where it belonged indoors.

"Hey, Mia." Petrus said, smiling as he returned her hug. His hugs were solid, and warmly given, but with just the slightest bit of hesitation, something held back. "Long time no see. You guys were out, huh?"

As they seperated, he struck a pose, feet dramatically apart, hands on his hips. And, most importantly, chin up, to show off the new scarf. "Yeah! What d'you think? Pretty nice, huh?"

Holding three bottles of some refreshing soda in her hands, Dove closed the fridge-door with her foot. "Indeed I did. Though the kid managed to pick that one out all by himself."

She feigned a proud sniffle. "He grows up so fast."

"I think he got that one from me. The look, that is," Mia said in regards to the scarf. She walked over to the food and then sniffed it like some sort of animal. "What type of food is this again?"

She then eyed the soda.

"Hey, you're setting a bad example for the kid!"

"It's true. We do." Petrus chuckled, shaking his head.

"Noodles. Spiced noodles." He looked back and forth between his two semi-guardians. "So when do I stop being 'the kid', huh? Grey hair? When I actually need my stick for walking?"

"Well it was either that or beer," Dove laughed it off. She was more than willing to be the bad influence on Petrus, since Mia was just so darn-tootin' good.

She eyed Petrus thoughtfully as she put the bottles down, claiming one for herself as she popped the seal open on it. "... When you can manage on your own, Petrus. When you're used to... all of this. Normal life. And stuff."

"Water is perfect though," Mia remarked before dropping the subject.

"What she said, basically. Am I going to have to clean up your place for you?"

Petrus gave Mia a sheepish smile. "Uh... maybe."

He sighed. "Until I can manage on my own, huh? So yeah, grey hair it is." His smile grew gentle. "I'm... kinda glad that I don't have to manage on my own, though."

Reaching out, he took one of the bottles, opening it with a sharp twist.

"Don't worry so much, or you'll get gray hair in just a couple of months," Dove chided in a friendly tone. "And those noodles smell delicious."

Grabbing herself a box of food, she settled in for some nice and unhealthy eatings. Life was too short to stay worried about calories... and luckily for her, the maker had given her a very impressive metabolism.

"So... what's new, Petrus? Seemed like there was more going on than just Warrior's Heart-marathon."

Petrus just grinned as he took a helping himself. Individually packaged, the fried noodles were heavy with spicy and sauce, as well as some meat and vegetables.

"Yeah." He said as he flopped into a seat. "A lot more." He paused a moment, frowning down at the meal. When he spoke again, his voice was soft."I... there were some Imps picking on a girl yesterday. And a crackdown today. I... kinda got involved in both?" He looked up, smiling sheepishly.

"You did what?" Mia said with noodles coming out of her mouth. She sheepishly finished the rest of her food and wiped her mouth. "Be more quiet about that, at least."

As if on cue, Dove tapped her nearby datapad that turned on the music-system she had set up earlier, which proceeded to play some loud guitar-music to cover their conversation.

Then she fixed Petrus with a surprised look, raised eyebrows and everything. "You're ok? They didn't hurt you or... find anything, right?"

Hurredly, Petrus shook his head, raising his hands. "No, nothing. I'm fine. And they didn't find anything."

He relaxed, settling back into his seat. "But I met some people. Do you know Xanna, the Pantoran who runs the soup kitchen around here? She's the one who stood up first. I couldn't believe it." He shook his head, smiling. "And then a guy named Mahon, and a Trandoshan named Sloan. Brother Sloan."

He let out his breath. "It... it was really something."

"There's actually a soup kitchen. Go figure," Mia remarked, mainly to herself. She then shook her head. "So, you got caught up in a bunch of people at a rally? Do they seem to have a plan or did y'all put yourselves on a list for no good reason?"

Petrus grimaced. "No... this morning was a crackdown. A crackdown because of how we stood up to them yesterday."

He spread his hands again, grimacing. "He was stomping on a kid. He had her down on the ground, grinding her face into the pavement. All because she was near some graffiti."

He sighed. "I almost let it go. If Xanna hadn't said something..." Petrus shook his head, smiling. "I'm glad she did."

Xanna wasn't someone Dove knew personally, but she had passed by the soup kitchen plenty of times... usually in somewhat of a hurry as she always got a ping of guilt seeing the poor wretches line up for something as unfulfilling as soup. The Empire truly was a terrible thing, making people resort to soup.

"Ah, Mahon... I see," Dove nodded with understanding of what was going on. Mahon was someone she did know. "Guess you're running with trouble now that Mahon's your friend."

She chuckled, making it clear she didn't disapprove as such. "I will tell you to be careful, but... good job, kid. You did the right thing."

Petrus gave Dove a nod, smiling as he did. "Hey, thanks Dove. That means a lot to me."

He tapped his utensils on his tray. "And you know Mahon. Okay. Good. He's on the up and up, then? I figured he was, but..." Petrus shrugged, waving some noodles in the air, "-can't be too careful, huh?"

"How'd everyone meet this Mahon except me?" Mia asked. She then dropped the subject and gave the 'kid' a few head ruffles. "She's got that right, though. Good going, being the good guy."