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spaced0lphin · 1 year

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A Snippet from "Dialects": a WIP #Merrical Fic

Ah, yes. I have been writing a bit... Currently, I have around 3k words. My target is around 10k for my outline.

This takes place quite shortly after the events of the game. I am quite in love with these two who are, in my opinion, quite in love with each other - they just don't know how to deal with that yet...

Edited since OP: Decided to give a little more, showing what I'm going for...

Dathomir's feeble red evening vanished with the clunk and hiss of the hatch sealing behind him.

Cal sneezed, fine dust billowing through his fingers.

Merrin lay on the couch off to one side, turning what looked like a small bone over and over in her hands, just the same as hours earlier.

“Sorry, Greez,” Cal called over his shoulder before picking it up and folding it. “... Anyway. It doesn’t look like the Nightbrother script. I thought you might want to see it?”

“So,” he said, catching his breath. She didn’t look up. “I found a few paintings on a wall nearby. BD says they’re fresh. Only a couple weeks old,” he continued, pulling his poncho off over his head. He dumped it in a pile of gear by the hatch.

“Hey!” A crotchety voice rang out from over by the galley. “I’m sure you’re in a hurry, but not that big a hurry. Hang that up, kid!”

“You saw one of Malicos’ many tiresome attempts at a land ward,” she interrupted, her tone gentle, but eyes firm. “As he is dead, and had the calligraphy skills of an infant, it does nothing.”

“I have seen enough of this place,” she replied.

“But… you haven’t been outside in a while, and I thought maybe -”

"Are you sure?" He asked, his shoulders sinking. “Maybe you should still look…?”

She sighed. "It is not like your Jedi, Cal Kestis," she said, her gaze falling to the floor. "There are always one or two more of you in hiding, it seems. It is not this way for me."

"Right, but..." He trailed off, the urge to reach out and comfort her turning into a knot in his throat. "I mean... I don't know how your magick works, but, maybe it's like speaking another language?"

"You are not making sense."

"Okay, your Magick and my Force. So, maybe their words, or… grammar, maybe, are different. But the ideas behind them are the same."

Merrin's dark eyes locked with his own. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

"I am listening," she said.

"Well, I can feel it in other people. If I concentrate, I can reach out. That's how I know others are out there."

"You are simply trying to help. I know this,” she said, shaking her head. “But magick is not used in this way."

"Well... why not?"

"It is not the way it is done."

"If you are the last, then can't you decide how it's done?"

Merrin's eyes shifted back to the object in her hands. The conversation was over. He wanted to ask her about that thing she kept running her fingers over, or how her Binary was coming along. Maybe what her favourite food was. Anything to keep her talking. Anything to help her feel a little less alone.

"Hey, I'm sorry,” he said, rolling his aching shoulders. Running all the way back so fast left him a little sore. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'll be at my workbench."

Cal touched the scar running along the side of his neck as he strode the few paces into the back room. His plan to stop for a while at Dathomir and offer Merrin a few moments of normalcy had backfired, and in retrospect, he wondered what he'd been thinking. A feeling like hot coals smouldered in his breast. Setting his lightsaber's hilt on the table, he found he just couldn't wait to get at its insides. Flicking the lamp on, he set about unscrewing. With each component placed aside, Cal's mind wandered. His favourite place to wander was, as ever these days, to Merrin's side.

Being around her made him notice the little things. Like when she saw morning dew for the first time. Fat, silver droplets sliding down lush tufts of grass on a crisp Bogano dawn. A far cry, she'd said, from the thin layer coating her Dathomirian desert at sunrise. He couldn't help but smile when she asked, suspicious, if it was real. Even stories of Bracca's rains seemed to fascinate her. All this, and yet, the things she knew chilled him to the bone. She could make things just appear, or combine bits of whatever to make strange stuff happen. The dead could even walk when she was done with them. Cal shuddered, remembering the metallic taste in his mouth when Merrin first appeared, enwreathed in green fire. Like she stepped out of a hole in the air. Still, those verdant flames were, in their way, beautiful. So too were the grey lines of ink framing her face, and her immense well of personal strength – so plain in her eyes when she focused. He sighed, taking time to sauter a particularly tricky wire. What could he do to make a galaxy where she didn't need such strength all the time? What wouldn’t he do? He chewed his lip. Thinking along these lines probably wasn't a good idea.

#merrical #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #cal x merrin #dialects merrical fic #fic wip #jedi fallen order fic

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spaced0lphin · 1 year

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Thoughts on Writing

Just last month, I got into Jedi: Fallen Order, and I fell in love pretty much instantaneously. I used to read the Jedi Academy stuff way back in the day and was a long-time reader of expanded universe stuff before the buyout. But with the newer films, I got a little jaded. That's hardly a controversial opinion. I have to credit Andor for reawakening my passion for the Star Wars universe - it really was unafraid to explore new tones and some new ideas, even in a set period in the canon. It encouraged me to give Fallen Order a chance.

Everything I wanted to feel for Rey as a "new" Star Wars protagonist, I feel for Cal Kestis. I wanted so much to love Rey, but the execution meant I couldn't get into her as much as I wanted. I was primed and full of desire to love her, but it just never happened. Enter Cal Kestis, a character whom I was initially sceptical of ("Oh good, another 'new' Star Wars character, how they gonna balls this one up?") I should say, I don't normally approach media with an "Okay, fuckstick. Impress me!" kind of attitude because I don't generally feel that's conducive to emotionally meeting the material on the level it's being offered to you. You could say I was a little un-primed from what happened with Rey. Well, Respawn's constistently amazing single player narrative writing sauntered into the room, along with a tortured, sweet boy and a little droid. Though only in the later parts of the game, Merrin is truly a fascinating character, and their enmity shifting into a strangely easy rapport over the course of the game felt like watching a constellation form. Something beautiful and long-lasting you can tell stories about. I posted a snippet of Dialects before, but I may as well elaborate a little bit. With this story, I really want to chase that feeling of building on old ideas rather than being a slave to them. I want to lean into the idea that you can be universally and personally loving. There doesn't have to be a difference. I work on themes of letting go and redefining the self through situations as they are, rather than what the rulebook says they should be. If only we could all be so brave, trust ourselves and our good intentions... and allow ourselves to grow. ... And I need Betas. Did I mention that? I need people familiar with the characters to have a bit of a go-through. I've got it on a Google Docs and stuff. I love constructive criticism, it's set so people can comment. It's not done yet, but there's about 5k so far.

Blathering about character stuff and my experience with writing so far under the cut.

For me, falling in love with a piece of media is a lot like falling in love with a person, and I think that's because of the way I look at things. Characters, to me, can certainly be broken down into their constituent parts and how they operate as 'devices' within a story. I can think of them like that when I need to. But I much prefer to think of them as whole and entire people, living entire lives somewhere else.

When I'm writing a character, I try to squish my brain into the shape it needs to be to fit into their skull. That sounds a little gross, and I guess it kind of is. It can be emotionally messy trying to get myself into a headspace where certain decisions make sense versus others. I have to take who they are into myself, along with their past, strengths, flaws and all the rest of it. Sometimes, that's a bit stressful. Anyone who is familiar with my work knows I write a lot of Joker from Mass Effect - a person with whom I share a lot of anxieties. Joker is many wonderful things -- he's also anxious, defensive and insecure. I love writing him. He's a reflection of certain parts of myself that have needed to see light. The acceptance the fandom has shown me with my interpretation of him has been both moving and personally vindicating. I'm finding I love writing Cal just as much. "Being" Cal for a while is honestly one of the more restorative things I've done for myself in a while. I've seen him labelled as boring or plain or whatever, but the more time I've spent "with" him, the less I can understand the criticisms. I find there's a quiet depth to Cal that's easily missed. One of my favourite characters from Mass Effect often gets this same treatment - "Kaidan is so boring!" - I think some of the stuff I love about Kaidan is seen in Cal, but amplified. It's my favourite thing to compare how Joker and Cal would react to similar emotional situations because it just makes me love them both more. Where Joker would be insecure about living up to something in the past or even jealous, Cal is appreciative of someone else's happiness, and just wants them to feel that way again someday, somehow. Where Cal is nervous, withdrawn or conflicted, Joker is blasé and full of active deflection. Joker speaks up, Cal shuts up. Where Joker is ready to stop hiding and level with the other person, Cal has no clue where to begin with that. Hiding is all he's ever known. Cal is easy, friendly, patient, curious, disguising his deeper feelings through silence. Joker has difficulty socialising. He's snarky, avoidant and acidic, disguising his deep feelings through denial. Joker has a little bit more of a 'traditional' concept of machismo. It is important to him and he wants to be seen that way. Cal thinks plants are 'pretty cute,' and doesn't mind saying so. Both of them struggle similarly with wanting things for themselves - especially really, really wanting things that are against the rules. Both of them are pretty ride-or-die. I'm committed to getting this story out soon. I want it out there and floating around in the weeks before the new game drops. Reason being is I want this peaceful, loving and hopeful feeling I have of Cal to be preserved in amber. I want to share and enjoy this interpretation of him as being possible, just for a little while, before his official next chapter is out there kickin' Imperial ass and probably not dating Merrin, because... My ships? My ships do not come in.

#dialects merrical fic #merrical #beta readers needed #fic thoughts

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