Badd hadn't seen Kay this excited about anything since Byrne died. She took him by the hand and dragged him around the apartment, introducing him to the fridge and the trophy shelf and Badd's jar of lollipops while chattering incessantly in her long-denied mother tongue.
Badd noticed the thigh holsters, but he also noticed that Novoc was making no effort to hide them. The Mandos were a warrior culture, even Byrne went armed most of the time...but while Novoc was in Kay's room Badd made a quick trip to grab his firearm and tuck it into the shoulder holster beneath his coat. Just to fit in.
Kay's bedroom lacked the aesthetics of the living room. The seafoam-green (more like pistachio, really) walls were hung with posters of fantastical animals in pastoral landscapes or backlit by the light of a full moon. A smaller picture near her dresser showed a massive artist's depiction of a mythosaur roaring before a set of jagged mountains. At its feet stood a tiny armored Mandalorian holding up a tiny sword in defiance of the beast, combining strains of their own mythos with the Earth notion of dragonslaying. There were pink sheets on her bed.
"I need to show you my armor! It's getting too small but Uncle Badd doesn't know how to make new armor so you need to help him!"
Of course Uncle Badd should be part of the process. Even Kay understood that Badd was heir both to Byrne's riches and his obligations, though they might have disagreed on what those obligations might entail. Badd, unable to understand a word of it, lurked by the doorway and watched Kay dig through the laundry in the back of her closet.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-12-26 03:48 pm (UTC)Badd noticed the thigh holsters, but he also noticed that Novoc was making no effort to hide them. The Mandos were a warrior culture, even Byrne went armed most of the time...but while Novoc was in Kay's room Badd made a quick trip to grab his firearm and tuck it into the shoulder holster beneath his coat. Just to fit in.
Kay's bedroom lacked the aesthetics of the living room. The seafoam-green (more like pistachio, really) walls were hung with posters of fantastical animals in pastoral landscapes or backlit by the light of a full moon. A smaller picture near her dresser showed a massive artist's depiction of a mythosaur roaring before a set of jagged mountains. At its feet stood a tiny armored Mandalorian holding up a tiny sword in defiance of the beast, combining strains of their own mythos with the Earth notion of dragonslaying. There were pink sheets on her bed.
"I need to show you my armor! It's getting too small but Uncle Badd doesn't know how to make new armor so you need to help him!"
Of course Uncle Badd should be part of the process. Even Kay understood that Badd was heir both to Byrne's riches and his obligations, though they might have disagreed on what those obligations might entail. Badd, unable to understand a word of it, lurked by the doorway and watched Kay dig through the laundry in the back of her closet.