[h2]Charnud and Larce[/h2]
[I]A Collaboration Between El Gato Naranja and Momo[/I]

James and Neri hadn’t gotten too far before Charnud and Larce were able to catch them. Upon reaching the large house, however, the group decided it would be best not to do all their shopping at one store. While James and Neri took the house, Charnud and Larce headed for another property they spotted not too far off. Unfortunately, they weren’t greeted with a full unguarded clothes line once they arrived, but what could only be described as a crime scene. 

The house, if it could still even be called that, was in ruin. Windows shattered, doors missing from the hinges, parts of the roof had even collapsed in. Most disturbingly of all, the walls were painted with the distinct scorch marks from blasters. Larce felt a chill run down his spine as he took everything in. Part of him screamed to get out of there, yet something about the eerie stillness of it all told him it was safe. Whatever had taken place was not a friendly gathering, but it was long over. Besides, there was no telling if they would find another opportunity like this. He had to at least check what was here.

Exercising extreme caution, his pace slowed with each step. The wood creaked under his shoes as he crept up to the front porch, echoing through the air as the only sound to be heard. After a brief pause waiting to see if his entrance had been noticed, Larce peered over the broken glass of the window. 

The inside looked just as bad as the outside, but there didn’t seem to be any signs of life. Even the broken pieces of furniture scattered about had noticeable layers of dust and dirt on them. Whoever sacked this place hadn’t stayed, and whoever lived here never returned after. Confident they were alone, Larce signaled to Charnud to follow, and entered the home. 

Their search didn’t last long. Anything of value had already been taken, and what was left wasn’t exactly in a usable state. By the end they managed to scrounge together a small pile of mismatched clothing in various sizes and conditions. It would be enough for them and a few others, but still wouldn’t cover the whole group or their more unusual companions.

“Well. First pick is ours.” Larce shrugged and began sifting through the pile. “So. ‘Political dissident monk’ was it? Gotta say, that’s a rather unusual combination.”


"I was a dissident before the other thing," Charnud replied. He bent over slightly under the doorway as he entered, such was his stretched out height. As he got indoors, the sky no longer felt like it was falling towards him, for he couldn't see it anymore. He inspected the pile of clothes along with Larce, quickly proceeding to take a pair of trousers and a shirt, both of them brown-ish in colour. Not the exact same shades of brown, but just well enough that they didn't look hideous together. Spotting a wide brim hat in the mix, he took it as well, putting it on his head. 

"I was actually considered a fugitive for the things I said in network spaces," Charnud continued. "I entered a monastery first for the anonymity. They didn't ask who I was, just what I wanted to do. And I stayed there.”

“So you spoke your mind, realized the kiellar states don’t appreciate that, then hid behind the cover of religion to escape your past?” Larce shot a glance at the kiellar, reading his reaction to see how his summary of events landed before returning to the matter at hand. “I can respect that. Personally wouldn’t have chosen a monastery or really any religious institution myself, but I’ve done my fair share of running and hiding. Mostly because I’ve also pissed off the people in charge more times than I can count.”

After a bit more searching, Larce was finally able to find items close enough to his size. A white button up, worn work jeans, and a black vest. Surprisingly none of the hats or boots they found fit him, but given the population of this planet, it wouldn’t be hard to find some down the line. Not one to care about modesty, Larce immediately began changing into his new ensemble while continuing to chat.

“I assume that also means this will be your first time swindling? Think you’ll be able to handle it? Lying and cheating good folk isn’t something most people can do without losing sleep. Plus I’m sure your monk friends wouldn’t approve.”

"...swindling..." Charnud slowly repeated, as though he had heard the word for the very first time.

For a moment, he was back on the Nírnaeth Arnoediad's breaching pod, holding a pair of blaster pistols and suited up for combat in the airless vacuum of space. Behind him, other pirates readied themselves to bring chaos upon yet another hapless merchant vessel. He held his weapons and his head high, and let out a cry of victory before battle even begun.

Charnud snapped back into the present as he realized he hasn't really answered Larce's question. He blinked, and inspected the brim of the newly acquired hat, as if inspecting it for defects. Charnud nodded, slowly. "...I try my best.”

“Good. Because this isn’t just our best shot; it’s also our only shot. We screw this up… Well at least whatever end we meet would still be better than wherever that ship was taking us.” Larce couldn’t help but add humor despite the important point he was attempting to get across. It was always like that with him. No matter how dire the situation he could never fully treat it seriously. 

Nearly fully dressed, Larce began buttoning up his shirt when he paused to inspect it a bit closer. “Great. I think this is a woman’s shirt… Eh. I can still pull it off.”

"Really? I couldn't tell." Charnud looked over at Larce, a hot pf humor in his voice. True to his word, the collar was a little too low for it to be a man's shirt. Or maybe it was just one of those v-neck shirts? 

Ironically, jumpsuits like the ones he and his fellow prisoners wore were a much more familiar sight for him. Except that those jumpsuits were for mining workers, not prisoners.

Having finished changing as well, he noticed that between the two of them, he had more matching clothes. Charnud let out an amused sort. "It appears that I have divine favour on my side.”

“Oh yes. How could I forget the prophecy? The chosen one of the maker will be ordained by brown pants.” Larce chuckled as he slipped on his vest. 

Hands on his hips, Larce took one last look around just in case he missed something. “Alright. I think we’re ready to rendezvous with the other two. We can circle back here to collect the rest after we hit town… Actually. One second.”

Larce darted through the door and into the bedroom. After a brief moment of struggle, he emerged with an old bed sheet he had wrestled from the mattress. “Let’s wrap everything up real quick. It'll be easier to grab on our way back. Plus we don't have anything for our ragon friend. Maybe they could use this as a toga.”

"Very well," Charnud nodded. He took the old bed sheet and placed the pile of clothes in it; not in a haphazard dumping manner, but with a measure of care that only someone used with doing laundry would have. He was quite efficient with the bedsheet, pulling the four corners together into a knot that was both easy to untie and also wouldn't fall apart a few minutes after it's been left alone.

With that done, he padded his hands together, as though congratulating himself and Larce for a job well done. "It is done, then. Let's proceed.”