The Escape (Jack and Race)
Race had been taken to the refuge and Jack can’t stop worrying about him. He hasn’t formed an escape plan yet but he still had to make sure he’s okay till a plan forms. But in a twist of events, the awaiting escape plan no longer serves a purpose because Race had broken himself free from the hellhole.
Words : 3826
Part : -
Warnings : Violence, abuse, child abuse (the refuge), blood, bruises, scars, injuries, nightmares, caps, angst (boy that’s heavy uhh-)
A/N : aaand we’re back! abt damn time i know i’m sorry. but this one here is special because it’s my gift for @deliciouspeachpirate for the @newsiesgiftexchange filmiversarry yay!! I apologize for being a few days late so I trully hope you enjoy this one. The warnings are pretty heavy ngl, but hey you requested ‘coming back from the refuge’ and this was the only idea that popped out. hehehehe n ee wayyssssss enjoy and have a happy filmiversary buddy!!
The worrying will never stop. As much as the others had told him it was a bad idea, he had to see him. Maybe if Jack had checked up on his friend, he wouldn’t blame himself all that much. Or maybe it’d make the blame game even worse. Either way, Jack had to make sure he’s okay. He had known Race the longest. And because of that, he feels like he owes him this.
The refuge is a pretty terrifying place to be. Sometimes it still haunts Jack in the most cruel way possible. Being back here still makes his skin crawl. His heart can be heard thumping faster in his ears. His hands tremble a little more than usual when the cold night breeze makes contact with his skin. He’d think that his fears over this hellhole would fade away after being here multiple times. Either it being because Snyder caught him or he’s there to see one of his newsies while trying to come up with an escape plan.
The building feels like a skyscraper because of how small the four story building makes him. There were memories where it wasn’t the building that made him feel small, but the monsters behind them. Regardless, he pushes his fears away for the time being and makes his way towards his usual path he uses to sneak in the building. He scales the wall on the side of the building utilizing the different objects around him.
He sees the little window he usually uses to look in just ahead. He just needs a few more steps to reach it and- wait.
A loud fragile sound made Jack duck low, thinking that he might’ve been seen. However, the window he’s trying to reach is slowly turning into glass shards. Jack waits it out but observes the movements from the darkness. He did not plan on seeing an escape plan going in motion.
A leg started to weakly kick down the metal bars covering the window that was previously there. The sound of the metal bars whining to break free filled the silent void of the night. Jack worried it might alert the guards and the kid might get caught.
First kick, a little movement.
Second kick, it started to lose its grip on the wall.
The third kick is what got it to fully break free.
Jack smiles seeing their success. His thoughts wandered to the possibilities of maybe utilizing that escape hole to break Race out right now. Well, his thoughts were soon diminished when he saw the kid that kicked down the bars slipped out through the hole. It was Race.
He wasn’t thinking all that much the moment he recognized the tall and lanky figure. Jack’s mind went straight to catching his attention, “Race!”
It made the other boy flinch. He snaps his head towards the source of the sound with his usual pearly white face going pale. His body frame pulses along with his heavy breathing a little too dramatic for Jack’s liking.
But upon realizing it was a trusted friend, Race scrambles over towards Jack. His tone breathless from all that heavy breathing, “Jack!”
Jack lets Race crash into him. His head curling into the crook of his neck and letting his bright blond curls nestle right in place. But it’s not as soft as Jack was familiar with. Actually, nothing about Racetrack is familiar now. His torso had always been lanky but Jack knows it had muscles packed into it. His hands are wrapping Race’s body in the hug and he can feel that his body has gotten a little smaller than the last time they met. He even notices the tears and rips all over his clothes. Some are also exposed to red liquid which Jack could only assume had to be blood.
Jack pulls away from the hug, wanting to investigate even further. He holds Race’s shoulder as far as arm’s length for a better look. There were scars, bruises, blood drips. The corner of his eyes were a little red. The blue sky he kept in his iris was in a different shade of blue. It wasn’t cheerful or friendly. It was locked away from seeing the adventures he and his friends would have after selling papes. In the span of two weeks, it has seen every form of cruelty in the world. Jack could tell it still stuck pretty close to him when he took note of the tear streaks on his cheeks.
“Oh, Race” Jack frowned at his friend, “What did they do to you?”
Race couldn’t answer. His voice was caught by his tongue that was begging to cry his heart out. Jack knows he can’t contain his emotions any longer. If the dam broke, the whole refuge might know an escape was in motion right now.
He ushers the boy down from the height they were from. Race’s hand, weak and frail, is slinged over Jack’s shoulders for extra support. Jack would carry him but he’s far too heavy. So he lets Race lean his weight on him. Jack would prefer them to be going a little faster since they’re still walking out in the open, but he can’t make Race limp any faster than what he’s already doing.
“I can’t believe you broke out on your own, Race” Jack exclaimed under his breath. They’ve reached the first alleyway in their journey for cover. Now both of them are breathing heavily. But Jack is more concerned over Race’s heavy breathing because it hasn’t stopped since the moment they saw each other.
“Heh… Well... You know me…” Race voiced between heavy breaths, making it sound like it’s no big deal.
“Save your strength, Higgins. We still got a long way to go” Jack stopped him from talking any further.
They continue on their journey through the streets and towards the lodge. They utilize the minimal lighting at this hour of the night to their advantage. Avoiding bulls and other sorts of big crowds by ducking low near the shadows and dirty alleyways. Race had mostly used Jack to stand up straight but every so often he kept toppling over. So Jack’s brain formed a plan to keep close to walls so Race can also lean on them when he feels he’s losing his balance.
“What is it, Race?” Jack instantly replied. He felt his heart breaking when he mostly heard exhausted air in Race’s tone. It’s not his usual loud and nasally voice. It didn’t ring loud throughout the room like the times when he celebrated his victory in winning card games at the lodge against the others. Or in the same way he’d announce the headlines to strangers on the street.
“...Am tired” Race said.
“I know you are but-” Jack started as he tried to readjust his grip on Race, “-You gotta stay awake, aight? You gotta help me help you back to the lodge”
The other end of the alleyway they’re in right now is only a few feet away from them. But the more they walk, the slower Race’s steps are. Jack can see the bloody and trembling feet trying its hardest to keep up. Race is basically being carried by Jack at this point, despite their efforts on trying to keep this a team effort.
“Jack…” Race called out again. He takes one last step forward before collapsing towards the nearest wall.
“Woah, woah, Race!” Jack tried his best to catch him but failed miserably when he ended up tumbling over along with the boy.
Jack frantically gets himself away from the boy to avoid harming him any further. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he did any damage. But it doesn’t change the fact that Race’s legs had given up on him. His back is against the wall, a bit toppling over to the side from the fatigue. He takes deep and tiring breaths which causes his chest to pulse up and down slowly.
“Hey, c’mon, Race! Ya can’t give up now!” Jack tried to get his eyes to open, straightening the boy’s dirty cheeks as gentle as he can.
“One… minute… please…” Race said in between breaths. He nestles his head in Jack’s hands. His face is cold and weak against Jack’s skin. It’s beyond terrifying to see him like this.
Jack can’t do anything at this point other than to obey what Race wants. Jack has a feeling the refuge guards are already out there looking for Race so maybe it is better to rest for a few minutes. With their kind of walking pace, they’re bound to get caught. Though every so often Jack shakes Race’s face when his eyes have been closed for a bit too long. He doesn’t wanna risk letting it close for too long to the point that it won’t open again.
Slowly, Race gets a hold of his breathing. He relaxes into his resting position with one big sigh. The gap between his two eyelids are very small, but as long as Jack can see it then he’s fine. Jack still thinks they need to get out of here as soon as possible. The alleyway can’t provide them cover for this long and the refuge guards won’t leave no stone unturned.
“Okay, times up” Jack exclaimed, putting Race’s hand around his shoulders. It’s still weak and cold against Jack so he’s praying that it’ll be strong enough to hold onto Jack as they continue to walk, “Let's get you home, Race”
Jack helps the boy stand up again, one trembling feet after the other. Jack puts an arm around Race’s waist for extra support before taking the first step. But Race’s feet missed the ground and slipped on his own. He came crashing to the little muddy puddle on the ground.
“Please, don’t give up, Race” Jack begged as he kneels down to get him again.
Race was still breathing but he couldn’t respond any more than muffled noises. Jack tries the same technique to get him up again, but it’s no use seeing that Race’s limbs just slides out of his grip.
“No, no, Race, please!” Jack pleaded while gripping on his hand. The volume was a bit too loud for his liking but at this point he doesn’t care anymore. He just wants Race to get up.
A door on the other side of the alley wall opened. It made Jack flinch towards the source of the sound. His hands reflexively trying to cover a weak Racetrack but still balled into a fist in case he needs to fight. But the boy’s fingers loosen up the moment he fully realizes who opened the door up.
“Jack?” The lady in the doorway spoke. It was followed by loud music coming from the building, but it was clear enough that Jack could tell who it belonged to.
“Ruby!” He called out.
It was one of the Bowery Beauties that Jack had befriended while hanging around Medda’s theatre. From the looks of the building she had existed, it appears that Race and Jack had made it to the theatre. Jack was too focused on getting Race home to take a minute to examine his surroundings. But that’s not the priority now. The priority is finding a place to lay low because it’s obvious that Race is in no condition to walk back to the lodge.
Ruby became the second set of hands to help Jack get Race to safety, which is inside the theatre. She’s not in her usual purple, pink, and feathery costume, which means she doesn’t have a performance tonight. She has time to help out.
They make quick work entering the building. Some backstage crew stopped and stared at the trio making their way across the floor. It’s not every day they get bloody young guests like them.
They find a secluded area of the theatre. An old couch left to dust alone will do just fine for Race. Ruby lays his head on the cushions cautiously to avoid breaking his fragility. Jack puts his legs up on the couch and proceeds to make him as comfortable as he can get on the small couch.
“Jack? What’re you do— OH MY GOODNESS!” A different voice shrieked. It was probably loud enough for some people in the audience to hear it, but that’s unimportant. Jack turns his head to see Ms. Medda standing in her usual pink costume to perform.
“Hey, Ms. Medda” Race said weakly with a small smile.
Jack stands there for a few seconds, frozen from the surprise encounter before he could reply to her, “He got out of the refuge like this!”
“Ruby, get the medical supplies in my dressing room!” Medda said as he approached the frail boy on the couch while Ruby quickly made her way towards the dressing room.
“Don’t worry… I’se been through worse…” Race tried to play it off like a joke. But neither Jack or Medda thought it was funny.
Medda and Ruby couldn’t stay to help because Medda’s cue was in five minutes and Ruby had to help out the other Bowery Beauties that are on for tonight get ready. Jack doesn’t mind because he can patch his friend up by himself.
Carefully, he helps Race unbutton his shirt and roll his pants up. Jack then starts by cleaning the bruises, cuts, and whatnot with a piece of cloth soaked in some water. It wasn’t that cold, yet Race still shivers against the touch when it makes contact with his skin. Some were even painful enough to cause him to flinch. But it slowly became bearable as Jack continued.
“I can’t believe ya broke outta there on your own, Race” Jack said after a long period of silence. The vacancy was mostly filled with the noises coming from the front stage, the cheering audience, noises behind the stage, or Race’s yelp of pain when Jack accidentally dabbed the cloth on the wrong spot.
“Why’d you do it?” Jack asked, putting the wet cloth down. It was now full of red stains soaked in water.
Race stayed silent for a few minutes. Jack guesses he needs time to let the feeling from the newly washed damaged skin settle on him because it’s obvious he’s trying to concentrate to breathe. In the end he cracked a smile on his face and replied, “Got bored… thought I’d get some fresh air”
That doesn't sound convincing in Jack’s book. He knows how Race jokes and that doesn’t sound like a joke. Jack squints his eyes to examine his expression even further for one good minute. From his smile, to his eyes, and even down to his soul, he can see the lie. But there was something in between that tells him not to make a fuss about it for the time being.
For the time being, Jack listens to it and just nods at the answer. He diverts his focus towards the bandages he’s gonna use to cover up some of the damage that has been done on his friend. Race surprisingly didn’t squeak in pain the whole way through. Whether it was because Jack’s hand had adapted to the kind of delicacy needed for Race’s situation or because the pain was now bearable enough, Jack was just glad to hear no noise that indicates he’s in pain. Though he makes it his mental priority to check up on him later.
The two boys didn’t plan on staying for long. They still need to journey back to the lodge. But it got pretty late at night and even Jack didn’t argue with Medda about staying for the night. After the last show of the night ended, most of the lights had gone out yet there were still plenty of people doing some work around the theatre at this hour. The absence of the audience made the theatre lose its life. Jack finds it a little terrifying but he guesses that’s just the magic of theatre.
It got him to stay wide awake. He knows he’ll regret it later in the morning but he cannot get his mind to settle in this new sleeping environment. Jack is sitting upright on the wooden floor next to the couch Race uses. He seems to be relishing in the sleep.
Poor kid, probably didn’t sleep in the refuge. Jack thought to himself as he observed the sleeping Race for a few seconds. At least one of us is sleeping.
Jack decides to grab a random paper and pencil nearby and do some light sketches to wait till he gets sleepy. This technique worked back at the lodge so it should work right now. The drawing starts with random shapes that make no sense. He’ll figure out what it is as he keeps going.
A Rustling noise caught his attention. He flinches his head up from his drawing towards the sound. He still sees a sleeping Race on the couch. But he’s not peaceful. Race starts flinching and rolling around in his sleep. Mumbles of words laced with fear escape his mouth in between his breathing that’s slowly getting deeper and quicker.
Jack puts the paper and pencil down before going over to where Race is. He curiously observes the scared boy before him, cowering into himself from whatever sight he sees in his dreams. He gently shakes Race awake while whispering, “Racer? Racer? Racer, wake up!”
He startles awake with a loud gasp for air, slightly sitting himself up. Jack takes a step back to give the boy some space. His chest pulses up and down in a state of panic. Blue eyes dart all over the dark scenery. But he calms down once he turns to the side to see a friend sitting by his side.
“Easy there, Race” Jack said, approaching the boy once again, “Everything okay?”
Race freezes at that question for a second before answering, “Yeah... yeah, I’m good”
Jack squints his eyes at his unbelievable words and tilts his head to the side. But he says nothing about it, telling himself that it’s probably not the best time to question him about it.
“Alright…” Jack said. He proceeds to lie down on the floor as if to return to his previous slumber state again, “...let’s head back to bed”
Race says nothing to that other than a nod. He gets himself comfortable again, but still keeps an eye on his injuries. He shuts his eyes completely again with a slower breathing pace. Jack pretends to sleep to keep an eye on Race.
Just as he suspects it, he isn’t back to sleeping. Race flips from sleeping on one side to the other. Jack can even see his eyes flickering open every so often, like he’s afraid to close his eyes again.
“Race?” Jack voiced out again, “Are you sure everythin’s okay?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine” Race replied, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Jack frowns at the lies. Even in the dark, Race can definitely see the frown. He answers that expression with an annoyed look. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it now, but Jack can’t let it slide that quick when it’s obvious he’s bothered by something.
From the distance, the two boys hear captivating vocals coming from the front stage. It caught their attention away from their wordless conversation. They turn their heads towards it. They see that one of the stage entrances is still bright from a light source coming from the front stage. It just so happens that the source of the singing is also coming from that direction. Jack recognizes the voice to belong to Ms. Medda. He guesses that she’s doing a late night practice.
Which gives him an idea.
“Hey, wanna see Medda sing for a bit?” Jack suggested to Race.
The other boy didn't respond for some time but ended up nodding to the suggestion. Jack proceeds to help him up on his feet again. With the pain all over his body, Race carefully limps along with Jack.
As they emerge to the stage, they see the beautiful sight that is Ms. Medda trying out a new tune while being accompanied with some soft piano. There’s only a few lights on, but it’s enough to make the singer shine like a diamond. The two boys stare in awe as they take a seat on the edge of the theatre.
The first short seconds of watching her brought peace to Race. Jack could see a smile forming on his face in the corner of his eyes. The eyes that were previously filled with fear had faded away and were replaced with awe. He isn’t surprised. Medda never fails to cheer anyone up.
The tranquility settles onto Race like it’s always meant to be there. He puts his head on Jack’s shoulder with a loud sigh. Jack only chuckles at the sight of his plan working. They’d definitely regret losing the sleep in the morning, but right now there were no such things as regrets.
“I couldn’t take it anymore” suddenly Race said. At this point, they’ve been watching Ms. Medda for a while now. Jack isn’t sure what coaxed him into talking nor does he know what he’s talking about, however he might have an idea.
Jack only turned his head towards the boy. Race took it as a cue to elaborate even further.
“Back in the refuge. It was… different than the last time I was there” Race said, eyes locked towards his bruised fingers tracing lines on the floorboard of the wooden stage.
“How different?” Jack hesitated in voicing his question.
“There were more guards. Stricter rules. Way more kids” Race explained. He lifted his eyes to meet Jack’s. Jack can tell there’s the fearful memories flashing before him in his brain, “Little kids, Jack! Some of them were smaller than eight!”
“And the guards were more ruthless than before” Race continued, “They punched a kid for walking too slow. And that was because they haven’t slept properly for so long”
Jack puts a hand around the boy’s shoulder. It got Race to lean further towards Jack, soaking up the warmth he craves.
“I got out because I couldn’t take it anymore” Race admitted, “It was… scary and… cold a-and just…”
When the voice started breaking, Jack held the boy tighter, “Sshh, it’s okay. You’re here now”
“I know, but those other kids…” Race continues, “I saw them in my sleep a-“
His next words were stuck in the tight of his throat. Race pulls his knees up and curls into himself as the tears he was previously holding back starts to stream down his face. His breathing gets mixed up with his cry.
Jack leans in closer to hug his friend. He rubs circle on the boy’s back as he sobs his fears out quietly. The mini performance before them has been long forgotten by the two boys.
“You’re okay. You’re home” Jack whispered, “We won’t let them get to ya”
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Alone (Angstpril Day 12- Alt 1)
Title: Alone (Sequel to Screaming)
Warnings: Violence, Survivor's Guilt, Scars
Angstpril2021 Day 12 Alt Prompt 1 "Alone"
Summary: Larel battles her guilt. Plo Koon and the Wolf Pack go on a rescue mission.
Keeping track of time in her cell was nearly impossible for Larel. It could have been a couple days. It could have been a week. All she knew was that they had yet to sedate her again. In fact they were taking great pains to keep her awake, forcing her to remain staring at her fallen soldiers. She was alone.
You got even more men killed… That intrusive voice always seemed to find its way into her head. Her mind healer always told her that these intrusive thoughts were her irrational side talking, but so often its reasoning seemed sound to her. You led even more men to their deaths. How many more will die if they come to save you? But as she hung in her bonds, her eyes fixed on the battered and bruised figures of Kyf and Fang, she had the time to think. She had nothing but time to think. It was either that or focus on the several burning wounds on her body.
“No…” Larel whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to bring herself to look at their bodies any longer.
You may as well have struck them down yourself… The voice continued to taunt.
“No.” She was firm this time, speaking into the empty room.
She hadn’t killed them. She hadn’t shoved an electrostaff into them until they succumbed. I didn’t kill them anymore than I killed Wooley and Code and the others… The thought had come from somewhere Larel didn’t realize existed in her.
Your decisions led to it… led to all of them being killed… What kind of commander leads her loyal soldiers to their deaths? came the rebuttal.
I was just trying to get them out alive… Maybe… maybe my decisions weren’t the best, but I didn’t strike them down… I didn’t cut Dri to pieces with a lightsaber… I didn’t make Blaze charge at that rancor… I didn’t make Master Sar save me...
Words that Master Plo had said to her after her return from Felucia echoed in her mind. ”Sometimes you do everything you can and still lose men. It is the unfortunate reality of war…” Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking down at her men and took a slow, deep breath, struggling to ignore for the moment as the lightsaber wound across her back flared to life with new pain. Fang, Kyf, the Snow Wolves, Quickshot, Blaze, Des, Code, Goldie, Wooley, Blades, Spider, Dri, Scout, Trip, Jed… Master Sar… I didn’t kill them.
“Do not the weight of the dead carry,” Master Yoda had told her when she was recovering from her injuries on Felucia. “A heavy burden, it is. Soar freely in the Force you cannot, if weighed down you are… A path to the Dark Side, guilt is… the shadow of anger it is.”
A few silent tears slipped down her cheek as she remembered the wise words and their meaning sunk in fully while she remained alone in her cell. She let them all go. Her troopers, her late master, her fear, her guilt. She released them to the Force. Her eyes opened wide. It was as if a dam had broken in her. She felt the Force clearly for the first time since she was a youngling. A pure thread of light that ran through the very core of her being connecting her to every other living thing.
The Kel Dor Jedi Master stood in the command center of The Resilient looking on at the makeshift holomap of Grievous’s lair. There wasn’t much to go on save for what Kit had managed to report back almost a year before and what Republic Intelligence could figure out. His second in command, Commander Wolffe stood at his side. To most others, Plo Koon’s face was a blank slate, but to the commander of the 104th, the furrowed brow and stiff posture betrayed the General’s concern. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“General,” Wolffe said seriously. “We’re in range to deploy the gunships.”
“Very good, Commander,” came the rumbled reply.
Plo Koon always considered himself calm, but what he had seen of the padawan’s treatment was enough to make his blood boil. He feared it would be far worse when they reached her, but he could not allow such fears to cloud his judgement. The young one’s life depended on them doing this quickly and efficiently.
The General and Commander made their way to the hangar, boarding the gunships with some of their most elite troopers at their sides. It was a quick, but silent trip to the surface. Everyone knew why they were there. One of their General’s own was in danger. As soon as boots hit the ground, the Wolf Pack was springing to action, getting into formation as Plo stepped forward, forcing open the locking mechanism of the door with the Force.
They made quick work of the initial group of droids they came upon and the Jedi Master reached out with the Force. The brightly burning Force signature was not hard to sense in the maze of durasteel and droids. He motioned for his men to follow him and led the way down through the corridors.
“Remember, getting Padawan Corusca out alive is our primary objective, capturing Grievous is secondary if possible,” he reminded his men, rounding a corner and coming face to face with two MagnaGuards and the cyborg General himself.
Plo sent all three flying with a strong push of the Force and raised his lightsaber ready as Grievous drew a pair of blades. Both were familiar, but the green one he held was immediately recognizable as his newest “prize.” The distasteful thought made the Kel Dor sick for a split second before the two blades clashed with his own. Blaster bolts flew past him as he went on the offensive, intending to subdue Grievous as they fought their way past the now fallen Magna Guards. Bolts from oncoming droids were flying past them, but neither combatant seemed to notice.
“I was hoping for Kenobi,” taunted the cyborg, locking his twin blades with the Kel Dor, “but you will have to do, for now.”
Plo remained silent, fighting with protective ferocity which only grew with each of his troopers who fell to the droid and each second he was kept from reaching the padawan. They had no way of surely knowing her condition, only that her Force presence remained and was filled with pain.
Commander Wolffe led his squad past the General beginning to clear the rooms while the remaining troopers stayed to help General Plo. Wolffe was not leaving without the little Jedi though. Their minimal interactions and what he had been told by his brothers under General Kenobi told him that she was a kind and gentle spirit beneath her proper and rigid facade. They reached a sealed door and Blaster stepped up, setting a few small explosive charges and blowing the door while Wolffe and the others shot down more droids coming for them.
Inside was a sight. Five commando droids stood guard in the cell. Two brothers lay dead on the floor and at the center of the room, their charge remained bound in an energy field. Bruises darkened her cheek, lightsaber wounds both fresh and beginning to heal peppered her body with scorched gashes. She was hanging limply, unconscious.
“General, we found her,” he reported into his communicator.
Wolffe refocused, warning his brothers to aim carefully as he took the shot at the first droid. Another was heading for the control panel for the energy field and Blaster took the shot with his heavy rifle, sending the droid crashing against the stone wall. The other three droids quickly opened fire on them, not caring if they hit the young woman. The Wolf Pack moved fast though, shooting down the droids as their General rejoined them, a second lightsaber with a green blade now in his left hand.
The sight that greeted Plo in the holding cell was heartbreaking. Little Larel was trying so hard to hide it, but even unconscious her pain radiated to him through the Force. Wordlessly, he extinguished the second blade, placing it on his belt for the moment, and thrust his own blade into the emitter of the energy field before returning it to its place on his belt. The energy field flickered out and he caught the young one before she could hit the floor, cradling her close as she began to wake and immediately started to struggle away from him.
“Shh little one,” he purred, steadying his grip on her. “You’re safe now…”
“Master…” she mumbled softly, burying her face in his tunics as she recognized who had her.
“I have to stand now, little one,” he told her, taking things slowly to not jostle her too much.
He spotted the scorched wound on the right side of her head and behind his mask he closed his eyes for a moment. So much pain for one so young to endure. The Wolf Pack was already moving, making sure the way out was cleared, shooting down any droids that got in the way.
When they arrived at the gunship and Larel was laid out on the floor for their medic to look over, Plo activated his communicator.
“Master Kenobi, we have your padawan, however General Grievous managed to slip through our fingers,” he reported, a hint of sadness lacing his tone.
“Thank you, Master Plo. We are in orbit alongside The Resilient,” came the relieved reply. “Bring her straight here if you can.”
“We’re on the way,” he replied, returning to Larel’s side as the gunship lifted off the planet’s surface. “You’re safe now, little one,” he assured her, running his claws gently through her ginger hair. “You’re not alone anymore...”
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THIS IS 4, uhh also known as Sophia Rodriguez
you might have to click/tap on the image for better quality idk COUGH
here is some stuff about the character? (the way i write things will probably annoy people😖) (ALSO IM SORRY IDK HOW TO DO THE CUT OFF CONTINUE READING THING)
them/them pronouns uwu
5'0 ft / 152.4 cm tall, 19 yrs old?(no one really knows-)
plays piano a lot in the mansion music room
monotone voice and expressions (i don't want to diagnose them with anything so i'll just describe stuff with no name for it)
does actually feel emotions and a wide variety of them too, just doesn't express it
lower toned voice, very centered in chest, lil rasp, stutters on s, t, i, p, & n sounds
uses sign language to "talk?" but does say the rare word here and there
sensitive to loud noises, so sometimes wears noise canceling headphones (matte black)
sensitive to sudden light changes
overwhelming sensory stuff makes them have slight muscle spasms which can end up in seizures if pushed too far
doesn't like touching people unless it's someone they trust
hugs Toby(trustworthy) in the morning and let's him talk all morning at breakfast until Toby leaves for work so he doesn't annoy the crap out of Masky & Hoodie
usually just nods through the whole conversation but does my hc of Toby care? no💖 (poor sweet child-)
stays in their room unless they have to leave the room for housework
doesn't interact with people unless necessary(toby uwu)
insecure about scars & missing cheek flesh😔 but ya boi Toby is helping🥰 (can you tell i love the character-)
^^^ covers arms, legs, & neck because of it
had similar coping mechanisms to Toby when they were 9-14 yrs old, but has now stopped
thinks ripped pants are incredibly stupid
are in the very chill AU of the creepypasta universe i made for maximum comfort owo i might make a post about it
is a domestic proxy, so very chill
the main thing is my favorite creepy bois live in the slender mansion and get along like a chaotic semi-good household
-the domestic proxies stay inside the mansion and take care of paperwork, any technology help the outdoor proxies need(hacking into things, shutting off power for houses, uhh that stuff so BEN doesn't have to), extra chores around the house(window cleaning cause it takes a long time, sorting files, moving stuff, ect), research, gardening if they want idc get a lil planty y'know, and things that the tall guy needs done around the house
-the outdoor proxies take care of work outside of the forest and in the real world, killing certain people, spying on peeps for info, getting physical information that cannot be accessed by cameras or that is not in some sort of tech database(idk technology so shush thank you), ect
IM SORRY IF THIS IS CONFUSING TO ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY READS THE CHARACTER STUFF😰
also just a reminder cause i know i worry a lot and i don't want you to, you don't have to draw the oc i just wanted to give you the option and i mean it when i say i won't be sad or think of you any less if you don't draw them ok thank you <3
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