what doesn't kill me makes me want you more | dathomirs.

[rebuilder]

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. 

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[dathomirs]

Merrin's I told you so goes unsaid, as does her speculation that the Bracca special is probably engine degreaser, as it becomes clear that Cal needs to be off the roof and quickly. She can't teleport another person through walls without an extra bit of magick that she doesn't have on her person, but she can at least get him down to the ground.

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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Grabbing onto Merrin's arm for dear life, Cal squeezes his eyes closed and clamps his mouth shut; ignoring the swooping sensation that really doesn't go all that well with his current inebriated state. Thankful for her foresight and that he didn't have to climb down on his own, he is just able to lean over the bushes, holding onto a tree for support as he finally loses the battle of wills with his stomach.

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.

[dathomirs]

Merrin might've gently teased him if he didn't seem so truly miserable. Instead, concern for him takes over and she finds herself murmuring something soothing in Dathomirian while patting his back reassuringly until it seems he's finished.

"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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It wasn't Merrin's fault, she hadn't been the one to make him drink it or try to go past his limits with something his system obviously wasn't all that equipped to handle. Besides, she hadn't blamed Cal for the fruit incident not long ago when she could've. He shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth.

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."

[dathomirs]

"I am sure you will, but I do not think you should be left alone on the refresher floor until you pass out here and are rudely awakened by the exclamations of whoever gets here first."

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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Cal had a brief shining, horrible moment where he pictured Greez being the one to discover him on the floor - yeah, he'd crawl off to hide somewhere. Even the thought of his loud, loud yelling makes his head pound. Which would be worse, that, or Cere's not mad, just disappointed stare. Merrin is at least not judging him.

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."

[dathomirs]

Merrin rubs his back soothingly until this latest round is over, then offers him the glass of water.

"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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"So I've been told." Cal replies, taking the water and doing as he's told, spitting into the basin and wiping his mouth. Eugh, vomit aftertaste. His stomach, at least for the time being seems to settle with the careful, measured breaths. Hopefully that part is over, but Cal has never done things by halves.

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.

[dathomirs]

Merrin hums an acknowledgement, setting the washcloth aside and running her fingers through his hair, instead. She might've gotten Cere if she thought Cal needed anything more than some water and rest. The other two would be useless at offering either comfort or useful assistance in this particular situation, in her opinion. But she also knows Cal doesn't like to be fussed over by the adults, especially, so she doesn't make a big deal of his sudden show of emotion.

"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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Cal, who let his eyes slip closed during Merrin's careful hands through his hair barely hears how she intends to have him repay her. Swallows down that emotion with a chuckle that ends on a groan. This time the noise that escapes him has little to do with the way he's feeling or any nausea.

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.

[dathomirs]

She helps him sit up slowly first, giving him a minute or two to be certain the motion isn't going to make him sick again before helping him the rest of the way up. His room isn't far, and if it weren't likely to disorient him further she'd teleport them both again. Instead she steadies him for the short journey back to his room and deposits him on his bunk with a stern look.

"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."