what doesn't kill me makes me want you more | dathomirs.
The ground was moving.
Cal was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to move, like the deck of a ship or a boat (not that Cal had ever been on a boat, but he'd seen it in holos). His hands are clinging to Merrin's arm, who he thinks is not much steadier than he is but she seems a little less ready to face-plant into the mud than he does.
"Whoops-" he nearly trips over his own feet and laughs.
He's not sure how much they'd had to drink, he lost track after two? Two drinks of the strongest drink that he'd ever had in his life, and that included the Bracca moonshine that Prauf had gifted him for his guild anniversary when he'd been fifteen years old (he'd meant well, he hadn't known that Cal had had never had anything nearly as strong -- he'd supervised him and then left him on his sofa the next morning -- guilty as he spent the night curled over a fresher).
Whatever it was, and however many it was - it had been fun to drop the Jedi decorum and have some fun, Merrin was about his age, and the two of them were typically running from one mission to another, not much time to stop and simply enjoy themselves.
BD-1, running ahead of them, stopped and looked back at the Jedi and Nightsister, waiting for them to catch up and making sure that neither one of these dumb organics passed out on him -- he'd warned them when simple scans showed blood alcohol had risen past sobriety and into "organics behaving badly" territory. They'd ignored him, of course. Merrin challenged Cal to "drink him under the table", and he of course wasn't going to turn that opportunity down. Now here they were. He pulled up the map to the mantis again, shook his head, gears whirring, and continued on.
Seemingly after a very long walk, a Jedi and Nightsister, clinging to one another to stay upright, clambered on board in a tangle of limbs.
Cal was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to move, like the deck of a ship or a boat (not that Cal had ever been on a boat, but he'd seen it in holos). His hands are clinging to Merrin's arm, who he thinks is not much steadier than he is but she seems a little less ready to face-plant into the mud than he does.
"Whoops-" he nearly trips over his own feet and laughs.
He's not sure how much they'd had to drink, he lost track after two? Two drinks of the strongest drink that he'd ever had in his life, and that included the Bracca moonshine that Prauf had gifted him for his guild anniversary when he'd been fifteen years old (he'd meant well, he hadn't known that Cal had had never had anything nearly as strong -- he'd supervised him and then left him on his sofa the next morning -- guilty as he spent the night curled over a fresher).
Whatever it was, and however many it was - it had been fun to drop the Jedi decorum and have some fun, Merrin was about his age, and the two of them were typically running from one mission to another, not much time to stop and simply enjoy themselves.
BD-1, running ahead of them, stopped and looked back at the Jedi and Nightsister, waiting for them to catch up and making sure that neither one of these dumb organics passed out on him -- he'd warned them when simple scans showed blood alcohol had risen past sobriety and into "organics behaving badly" territory. They'd ignored him, of course. Merrin challenged Cal to "drink him under the table", and he of course wasn't going to turn that opportunity down. Now here they were. He pulled up the map to the mantis again, shook his head, gears whirring, and continued on.
Seemingly after a very long walk, a Jedi and Nightsister, clinging to one another to stay upright, clambered on board in a tangle of limbs.

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She's fairly certain the little droid is over them both for the next twelve hours or so, and she'll be glad not to be scanned or beeped at while she's trying to relax.
Merrin appears in a flash of green on the ship's roof a few moments later, water canteen in hand -- which she politely offers to Cal first upon sitting. She stretches her legs out in front of her and takes in the twinkling vastness of sky above them. She's not quite as affected as Cal by the beverages they'd consumed, but everything does shine just a little more brightly, and she feels pleasantly fizzy in a way she can't remember having done in quite some time.
"Thank you for coming out with me tonight. I know you would've been just as happy tinkering with some project and blasting nearly unlistenable music into your ears, but I enjoy your company."
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He accepts the water with a slight nod and takes a long pull; soothing his dry throat and settling in his stomach. When he's done he hands it back to her to lay back, locking his hands behind his head.
"I'll ignore the dig at my music." Cal huffs. "Thanks for inviting me, it was nice to get off the ship for a bit and -- hey, did you just accuse me of not knowing how to have fun? I do plenty of things that aren't tinkering!"
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"It isn't a bad thing. But you can be very... intense, when you have decided something needs doing. Not everything is so urgent, even in this battle we are fighting. We must take time to live, as well."
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"I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not focused on something, like if I stop, then I won't be ready for whatever happens next." Like if he lets his guard down, something terrible will happen. Cal shrugs. "I guess I need an occasional reminder."
Or to be pulled out bodily away from whatever he's doing.
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Merrin was nothing if not adaptable, and she prided herself on it. There was very little that could truly shake her confidence, even here, away from the relative safety of Dathomir -- for her, anyway. Greez might actually implode if he could hear her think of Dathomir as safe.
She gazes up at the sky and picks out a particularly bright cluster of stars to point out.
"Look there, are they as bright to you as they are for me? I do not know this constellation; we are far from Dathomir, but it is pretty."
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He glances up at the sky, it is very bright, the stars seem to twinkle and dance. "I don't recognize it either, but it is." Cal glances back at Merrin, entranced as she is with the stars, her hair shining in the moonlight. His mouth feels dry in a way that's probably not the alcohol coursing through his veins. "Pretty."
Clearing his throat, he turns back to the stars. Thankfully it's too dark to see how bright red his face was...
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Traces of amusement play at the corners of her lips as she regards him thoughtfully for a moment.
"I like you this way, Cal Kestis. What would it take to get you out here with me on more quiet nights? I do not think Cere would approve of me getting you drunk very often."
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...
"Ha, she'd love that. I don't think either one of us would hear the end of it." A beat. He just likes spending time with Merrin, really. If she wanted to drag him to bars, well, he'd go along with that. Cere could deal with it. If she wanted to stargaze, like now, that worked too. "What do you normally do, when it's quiet like this?"
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"Back on Dathomir the quiet became too empty to bear at times, even with the spirits of my sisters near. I suppose I haven't had much time to simply appreciate a calm evening in the presence of someone I enjoy being near."
Perhaps it's the slightly giddy sensation that the liquor has instilled in her that makes her slightly more daring than usual. For whatever reason, she leans down to impulsively press a kiss to Cal's cheek before pulling back with a mischievous grin.
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Merrin leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek and Cal blinks, gaping a little. "W-what was that for?"
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"It wasn't for anything. I just wanted to."
His surprise is truly adorable, she thinks, but once the initial thrill of having acted starts to wear off a touch she looks at him with a slight hesitance, uncertain if she's offended or broken some Jedi rule.
"Was it all right?"
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That sometimes at night he wonders if her mouth is as soft as it looks, or the sounds she'd make if he kissed her? If she'd blush under her deep tattoos the way he does now?
He lapses into silence. They're only thoughts, though. Things he can't put into any action when the Jedi code still hangs over him. He can't just pretend it doesn't exist just because the Order is gone. Gone, with the way of it's return destroyed. Cal stares up at the moon again, rubbing his neck. He's making it awkward as a wave of something like disappointment rushes over him.
"I -- we're friends, right?"
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His question brings a puzzled expression to her face.
"Of course we are friends, you ridiculous Jedi. Have I done something to make you doubt that?"
She cannot see how, but Cal is very strange sometimes, and prone to leaps in logic that she would not necessarily make on her own.
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It just seems like something that might make things kind of awkward. And losing her friendship, well... he can't.
"Yeah, no sorry. You haven't done anything, I'm just really drunk right now and not sure what I'm talking about. But I'm really glad that we're friends." Smooth. He smiles, and tilts his head back towards the sky. Thankfully it's dark, no way to see how red he's gotten. "Say, doesn't that constellation look a little bit like Greez?"
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Greez and Cere are her friends now, as well, she supposes -- more like family, in truth, as is Cal. But Cal is the one she chooses to spend extra time with whenever she can, like this, and the one she'd like to kiss again if he didn't seem so awfully confused by the entire concept.
She loops her arms through one of his and rests her head against his shoulder as she follows his gaze to the constellation in question and squints at it skeptically.
"Only if you cross your eyes a bit. You are very drunk, aren't you, Jedi?"
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"Mmmmhmm. I think I'm very drunk... you might've won this one out, dear nightsister. Maybe next time I'll introduce you to the Bracca special."
There's really no Bracca special, but if it wasn't a Dathomirian brew, maybe Cal would've stood slightly more of a chance; clearly not ready to call tonight a total defeat - they were just not on equal footing.
With a groan, Cal stretched his arms over his head. His head was swimming, and he shook the stars out of his eyes as he sat straight up; bright dots starting to form in his vision.
"Wanna head back, I think -- oh." Sweat beaded at his brow as nausea turned in his stomach. "m' gonna be sick."
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She moves fast, draping one of his arms over her shoulder and hauling him up to his feet in as fluid a motion as she can given her own still-tipsy state.
"Close your eyes and hold on. I'll get you down."
It's all the warning he'll get before they're on the ground in a blur of green, but Merrin at least does the courtesy of teleporting them next to some bushes, since she's not sure how fast she can drag him into the refresher.
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It hadn't been really all that bad going down, but coming back up burns the back of his throat and causes his eyes to water as he retches. It's awful. Cal manages only a moment of peace, trying to stand, but his body clearly disagrees with the action as the nausea returns with a vengeance.
"Don't--s-say--a word--" He grounds out with a glance at Merrin between bouts and pitches forward again to continue the unpleasant business of throwing up.
Cal Kestis has faced down a Sith Lord and lived to tell the tale, how embarassing that his cause of death will be Dathomirian brew, hopefully they leave that part out of the history books when recounting his legacy in the tale of the Jedi.
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"I am sorry, my Jedi. I did not consider whether the ingredients from my homeworld might be bad for humans."
Truthfully, it's probably just the alcohol, but Cal had been kind to her the time she'd accidentally eaten a fruit that had similarly disagreed and deserves the benefit of the doubt for having been a good sport this time.
Once he's had a moment to catch his breath, Merrin glances back at the ship's ramp, grateful that BD is charging and therefore won't be coming out to scold the two of them.
"Let's get you back inside. You need to rest."
She'll let him lean on her the rest of the way to his bunk or the fresher, whichever his preference is by the time they get that far.
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He wanted to lean into her touch, close his eyes and let her voice wash over him until he fell asleep. Dismissing the longing as his misery seeking a balm he lets her guide the way up the ramp. Thankfully nobody was around to witness otherwise he'd be getting a lecture (Cere and or BD) or mockery (Greez) as they made their way up and inside.
Nearing the hallway that lead to the back Cal nodded to the fresher. Better safe than sorry, he'd never hear the end of it if he puked in the engine room.
"You don't have to stay up if you're tired. I'll be fine."
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It's why she won't even suggest sending BD-1 in her place; she cannot imagine Cal's present condition feeling very improved by shrill beeps and binary scoldings. Still, she does exit the room momentarily, only to return with the softest, fluffiest blanket she could find -- from her own room, naturally -- and a glass of water that she sets down next to Cal before draping the blanket over his shoulders.
"The floor is cold," she offers in explanation before dropping to sit beside him.
"I will stay until you are ready to attempt sleep."
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Not that she had room to, she was drunk too, but just holding it better.
Ugh. He plops himself up, and lists to the side towards one of the cabinets. The ceiling is... spinning. That's not normal. He swallows and closes his eyes against the wave of vertigo; only opening them upon Merrin's return with a blanket that looks quite cozy and warm and - surprise, is as cozy and warm as it looks. If there's any echoes on it, they're pleasant emotions.
He's too drunk to peruse anything further and wants to leave Merrin to her privacy.
"Thanks. This is nice." Far nicer than the blanket he has in his own room, on his bed. Cal knew it, they liked Merrin more (or, the logical part of him supplies, maybe she was less likely to ruin it with blood and dirt and grime than he was). His stomach rolled and he leaned forward again, sweat beading on his forehead as he retched.
"Next time I try to drink... anything like that, I want you to hit me. H-hard."
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"Rinse your mouth out and take slow breaths. You are an absolute menace, Jedi, do you know that?"
It's said with affection as she hops up from her seat to run a washcloth under cool water. Merrin hadn't been much of a caretaker before meeting Cal -- at least, not since her childhood. Being friends with a Jedi -- or perhaps just this particular Jedi -- seemed to test every last skill she had in this area.
She sits back down and starts wiping the sweat from Cal's flushed face with surprising gentleness. She cannot, however, resist teasing him just a little bit.
"If this experience is not enough to deter you on its own, I do not know that violence will improve matters. But I will certainly oblige if you insist."
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He closes his eyes, leaning against the cool tile. It's not the most comfortable but he could fall asleep here, that's how tired he is. Would it be ideal? No. But he wouldn't have to get up again. He's thankfully spared by Merrin's return with the wet cloth, almost instinctively leaning into her touch with a sigh.
"Oh no, I think it's def-definitely deterring me." He swallows past a surge of emotion, blinking rapidly up at her. "Thank you, Merrin." There's other things she could be doing, instead she's staying here with him as he reaps what he does after overextending his tolerance for alcohol. She could've got Cere or Greez or BD, or hell, just left him on the floor until morning.
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"Do not thank me yet. You're taking my chores as soon as you can handle being upright for that long."
Judging by his current state, she imagines it won't be tomorrow. Then again, Jedi do seem to have remarkable healing capacity. She pulls Cal's blanket up over him and stifles a yawn of her own.
"I would let you rest your head in my lap, but if you are going to fall asleep on me I'd prefer it were somewhere less dismal."
The engine room isn't the most comfortable space to sleep, but at least they wouldn't wake up cramped and freezing at whatever hour the first person to wish to use the room awakened.
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It's only half-hearted, though. A fair trade off for having to sit here while he throws up and works through his hangover. Given how he feels now it's probably going to take another day, maybe more until it's all out of his system, but at least they're in between jobs right now and have nowhere pressing to be. No Empire presence in this sector, no Jedi relics to track down, no Rebels flagging them down for assistance.
He blinks an eye open at her. Surprisingly comfortable for the fresher floor, or maybe that's just Merrin's presence. But sleeping here when Greez was an early riser meant that he'd probably find them out.
"Alright, help me up off the floor, my room's close." Close enough.
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"Stay sitting for a minute. You need to actually drink some of that water; I'll be right back."
This time she does teleport, and is back in a few moments with the glass of water and her borrowed blanket, the former of which she hands to Cal.
"You'll feel worse in the morning if you don't."